by L. L. Muir
Iain dipped his head respectfully as he was introduced, his mind scrambling to keep up with his new situation. They thought he was supposed to be here. They thought he was the worker they had been expecting. Since Soni had sent him here, maybe he was.
“I’m called Iain,” he said, finding it easier than he had expected to slip into his old self again. “Iain MacIntosh.”
“Oh, my Lord,” one of the women said, rolling her eyes. “Did you hear that luscious accent? We’re going to have all the women from nine to ninety swooning on the mountain this summer, sure enough. Probably end up doubling our repeat business.”
“No kidding, Manda,” the other woman said with a chuckle. “And they’ll all want to be on his tour, just so they can listen to him talk. Better get him trained fast, Justin. He’s going to be one busy little bee.”
“The ladies are probably right,” Justin agreed with a grin. “Though we’ll need to get you out of that kilt thing you’re wearing and into standard issue. And, right on cue, here’s just the woman to take care of those little details.”
Iain turned his gaze toward the woman stepping up on the platform and, for just an instant, he felt as if his newly-beating heart had ceased to function all over again.
Her eyes were a brown so rich, they reminded him of freshly tilled soil in the early spring. And the rest of her was nothing to scoff at, either. He couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze from her when Justin spoke again.
“This is our senior guide, Sallie Addison. Nancy, Ms. Toliver that is, probably told you that Sallie is the one she put in charge up here. She’ll be the one training you, too, since she’s been here longer than almost any of us. Isn’t that right, Sallie?”
Sallie moved closer, her eyes locked on Iain’s. Several long seconds passed before she spoke, almost as if the two of them existed in those seconds outside time.
“Yes,” she said at last. “That will be me. Come on, Iain, let’s give you a tour and get you into the right clothes.”
“Or, better yet, out of them,” Manda said as they passed by her and a giggling Ashley.
At the bottom of the stairs Sallie stopped and turned to face him, her cheeks and neck colored with a healthy blush.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said, her eyes darting back up to the platform they’d just left. “I’ll have a chat with Manda later. We do a lot of joking around up here, but I don’t want you starting off your summer with us feeling harassed.”
“Yer under the impression the lady’s words upset me?” he asked, hoping she’d look up at him again rather than continuing to study the tip of her shoe. “I’m no’ possessed of such a delicate nature, Mistress Addison. Of that, you can rest assured.”
He touched a hand to her shoulder and her blush deepened by several shades.
“Well…okay. Good. Okay, then,” she mumbled. “And it’s just Sallie. There are no formalities here at the mine.”
He could almost swear she trembled beneath his touch. As for his physical response to her, well, he could only suppose it must be the result of his having been, literally, out of touch with women for the past two hundred seventy years.
“Okay,” she said again, this time moving away a couple of steps before turning her back on him. “You’ve met everyone but Dale. There are only eight of us for the summer, but it will feel like more than that once the tourists start arriving. The barracks are over this direction. I’ll show you where you can put your things and then we’ll get your shirts and shorts.”
Shorts. That must be what they called those wee trousers they all wore. Exactly the same material for both the men and the women, though the design was different. The men’s were baggy and hit below their knees while the women’s were much shorter and more fitted. So fitted, in fact, there could definitely be no mistaking which of their number were females. Like the one walking ahead of him now.
No mistaking at all.
“This is the mine entrance,” Sallie said, drawing his attention from her backside. “This open area is where we gather all the tourists when they come down from the train. Our camp is just ahead, farther down into the clearing.”
After a few more minutes of walking down the steep hillside, they reached several buildings in a small valley, continuing on until they reached the door of the longest building.
“This is the men’s quarters,” she said, knocking and then pausing a moment before she opened the door for him to enter. “Mind your step going in. The rains have washed away a little gully here. Showers and toilets are through that door at the end of the room.”
The room itself was fairly spartan, holding only six identical beds with a tall cabinet separating each bed from the other. Sallie led him to the closest bed and opened the door of the cabinet next to it to reveal a large empty space with drawers below.
“This is your bed and you can keep your things in here.” Her voice faltered for a moment as she glanced down at his hands and back up. “Though, I can’t help but notice you don’t appear to have brought anything with you.”
“Lost in transit,” he said, smiling what he hoped was an apologetic smile. “I’ve only what you see before you and nothing else.”
He hadn’t really had much of a need for luggage and spare clothing where he’d been.
She nodded thoughtfully, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip for a moment. “In that case, I guess we’d better issue you a few sets of clothing. I have a spare toothbrush and some toiletries I can let you have until one of us makes a trip into town.”
“That would be most welcome,” he answered, stepping outside again as she pushed open the door for him.
He turned as she followed, just in time to catch her as her foot slid into the washed-out depression in front of the door, pitching her forward. Her head fit against his chest as her fingers grasped his arms. Without thought, he pulled her close, and her body molded against his. Bending his head forward, his chin rested against her hair and the scent of fresh flowers filled his nostrils.
“Sorry,” she mumbled into his chest.
He wasn’t. Not in the least. For a fact, he couldn’t imagine one single thing he would rather do than stand here in the warmth of the sun with Sallie Addison in his arms. Well, nothing he’d rather do out here in the open.
“Are you unharmed, my lady?”
“What?” she asked, her face turning up toward him.
Those eyes! And lips so plump and pink it was as if they dared him to take a taste.
“I’m…no, I’m…fine,” she stammered. “Nothing’s damaged except my pride.”
“If you’ll but direct me to where you store yer tools, I’ll see to it that hole is set to rights,” he offered, still holding her in his arms.
She nodded, also making no effort to move away.
“What’s going on here?” A man, one who hadn’t been on the platform earlier, stood only a few feet away, his hands on his hips. “Who are you?”
Sallie stiffened in Iain’s arms, her head snapping around toward the newcomer.
“This is Iain MacIntosh, Dale. He’s the new guy we’ve been expecting,” she said, at last pushing away to stand on her own. “I tripped coming out of the barracks and his quick reaction saved me from a nasty fall.”
“That’s awfully convenient,” Dale said, his face a dark cloud of emotion.
“No, what would have been convenient would have been if you would have filled in this hole yesterday when I heard Justin ask you to do exactly that.”
“Justin’s not my boss,” Dale grumbled, crossing his arms in front of him. “He could have done it just as easily as asking me to do it.”
“Whatever,” Sallie sighed, turning back toward Iain. “This is Dale Nichols. He’s the only one of us you didn’t meet up at the train. Now that you’ve met everyone, we can continue on. Let’s get those clothes for you. Once you get changed, we can finish the tour.”
She walked ahead of him as before, pulling keys out of her pocket as they approached a small building s
et closer to the hillside. Much to Iain’s displeasure, Dale fell into step beside him.
“This is our storage for all sorts of things,” Sallie said as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“So you’re the new guy,” Dale said, his arms crossed in front of him. “What took you so long to get here?”
Iain shrugged. “It was a long journey to get to this place.”
“You from Scotland?” Dale asked. “Doesn’t make sense to me. I can’t imagine why Ms. Toliver would need to hire a foreigner. There are plenty of guys she could have hired from around here.”
“No, there aren’t,” Sallie said as she rejoined them, her arms filled with plaid flannel and khaki. “We had the job posted for months without one single applicant. Here you go, Iain. If I have the size wrong, we can switch them out. You get changed into these and meet me at the gathering spot in front of the mine that I pointed out to you. I’ll show you where you’ll be working for the summer. As for you, Dale, I recommend you go get a shovel and do what Justin asked.”
Inside the barracks, Iain changed into a pair of the shorts and one of the shirts. Once he was done, he folded the clothing he had taken off. The last time he could remember putting these things on was the day he’d died in them. The memory shuddered through his body and he couldn’t help but run his hand over his old shirt one more time, surprised not to find bullet holes in the cloth.
Apparently, there was nothing too difficult for the witch who’d sent him to this place.
“There’s something I think you need to know.” Dale stood inside the doorway, a shovel in his hands.
“And that is?” Iain asked, beginning to think he just might dislike this man.
“Don’t you go getting any ideas about Sallie. She belongs to me, so you can just keep your hands, and your eyes, off her. Yeah, I saw how you were looking at her.”
“Yer her husband?” Iain asked, no longer unsure about his dislike of the man.
“No. Not yet,” Dale answered, his eyes darting around the room.
“Then banns have been read for yer betrothal?” Iain clarified. “You’ve set a date?”
“No,” Dale said again. “But it’s only a matter of time. Sallie is mine, so you just keep your distance, Scotchman, you hear? Don’t you forget my warning. It’s the last one you get.”
Iain didn’t plan to forget anything about this conversation. Nothing that twisted at a man’s guts the way Dale’s words twisted at his was easily forgotten. It was as if someone had laid claim to something that belonged to him, and then dared him to do anything about it. Iain couldn’t begin to explain why he felt the way he did. He only knew that he did. Perhaps it was no more than some strange result of his being alive again after having felt nothing at all for so very long.
He shook his head as he closed the door to the cabinet, trying to rid himself of these strange emotions. He wasn’t here to challenge Dale for the woman. A woman like her would have to belong to someone. He was here to save a life so that he could get on with the next step in his own journey, confronting the man who was responsible for his death.
None of these trivial social interactions mattered. Not his feelings, not Dale, and not Sallie. Especially not Sallie.
Though, even as Iain thought the words, he already knew it was going to take some effort to convince himself he really meant them.
Chapter 3
“What would Nancy do?”
Sallie said the words aloud in an attempt to reinforce her determination to be the manager Nancy Toliver expected her to be. Dale’s odd behavior was hard enough to accept, all by itself. If he was going to spend the summer shirking the extra work assigned to him, there was no doubt about what she needed to do. At some point, she was going to have to stiffen her backbone and lay down the law, just like Nancy would have done if she were here.
A smile tickled around the corners of her mouth in spite of her worries as she considered how many more clichés she could come up with before she actually made herself do what needed doing. Nancy had trusted Sallie enough to put her in charge. The old lady had trusted her enough to leave her home, her animals, and the running of the mine tours in her hands. There was no way Sallie was going to let her employer, her friend, down. If that meant getting tough, then she’d walk the walk.
“There’s another one,” she whispered, clutching her clipboard to her chest, fighting the urge to laugh out loud.
Maybe that meant she was one phrase closer to being the quality manager Nancy deserved.
Turning her gaze back toward the camp, Sallie spotted Iain striding her direction. She could only hope this one would be a strong enough team member to make up for Dale’s shortfalls. There had to be some reason Nancy had chosen him, other than his exceedingly good looks.
He waved as he approached and for just a second or two, she suspected that his looks might have had more to do with Nancy’s choice than she was giving the old woman credit for. As Nancy herself was fond of saying, she might be too old to play, but she still enjoyed looking.
“I see they fit,” Sallie said as Iain joined her, embarrassed the moment the words popped out of her mouth.
Boy, did they ever fit. As good as he’d looked in the kilt, he looked equally good now.
“Aye,” he agreed with a grin that sent a shiver up her spine. “You’ve a good eye for judging a man.”
It was all she could do not to laugh out loud at his comment. If only he knew just what a lousy judge of men she’d always been. But lousy history or not, she could already tell she’d need to be careful with this one. Her best defense was to keep the relationship purely business.
“Okay, then,” she said, as much to focus herself as for his benefit. “As I told you before, this is the gathering spot for all our visitors. You can see we’re not far from the river. One of our challenges every year is to keep our guests away from the banks. Considering the heavy rains we’re having and the melt upstream, that’s even more important this year than it usually is. Someone falls in there, chances are close to one-hundred percent they’re not coming out alive.”
Iain nodded, his eyes fixed on the raging waters tearing down the mountain. “Could you no’ build a fence of some sort to call attention to the drop?”
“As a matter of fact, we had one until last week. The floods coming down ate the bank right out from under the metal poles. If we walk over this way a little, you can see them sticking out of the muddy water.” She led him closer to the river, stopping before they got anywhere near the edge. “Even when we had the fence, we still had to do the warnings. Kids always seemed to think the fence was for climbing on rather than for stopping them. Down that way, toward our camp, is the turnoff that leads to the petting zoo. I’ll show you that later. And back up that way, toward the train stop, is the turnoff that goes to the picnic and gold panning areas.”
“Gold panning?” Iain echoed, his brow wrinkling as he glanced over his shoulder toward the gaping mouth of the Toliver Mine.
“The tourists love it,” Sallie said, leading him away from the water and back toward the mine entrance. “There’s only trace amounts of gold washing down the river, but people enjoy trying their hand at it. It’s a big Friday evening draw for families, along with the cookouts. All in all, we do a lot more here to entertain our guests than just tour through the mine.”
Though, hands down, the mine was still the biggest attraction. She stopped at the entrance and lifted the lid on a big plastic box, pulling out two hard hats and handing one to Iain.
“Everyone who goes past this opening wears one of these. Safety regulation number one,” she said with a grin. “I should have asked if you’d like a jacket. It’s always much cooler in the mine.”
“Cold is no bother to me,” he said, an odd expression flickering in his eyes.
“In that case, follow me, but watch your step. The tracks for the rail carts make for some tricky footwork in a couple of places. And just to make it harder, there are puddles everywhere, so if you s
tep off the boards we have in place, you’re going to end up with wet feet.”
For the next half hour, she led him through the mine, just as if he were one of her tour groups. Going through her regular spiel, she relaxed, slipping into her comfort zone here on familiar turf. Nothing in the mine could put her off her game.
Nothing until the lights went out, that is.
It was a regular part of the tour. Something that made the kids squeal and more than a few of the adults suck in their breath. It was a moment designed to allow everyone to experience the mine as it had been in the beginning, bereft of any man-made light. A flip of the switch and the cavern went dark. A pause to let her audience understand the true meaning of being in a cave and then she’d strike a match to light one of the original lanterns the miners had used.
Only this time, for some reason she couldn’t begin to explain, once the lights went out, things felt very different. No little kids screaming. No nervous giggles or feet shuffling. Just a profound silence, punctuated by the soft sounds of two people breathing. And, louder than anything else, her own heartbeat, pounding in her chest, faster and louder with each passing second.
She could only pray that it was the blood in her ears she heard, a sound that would, hopefully, allude her companion.
When she struck the match, she wasn’t at all surprised to find her hand shaking, considering the last few seconds. For the first time ever, the match went out as she tried to light the lantern, almost as if some mysterious breeze had fluttered by and puffed upon the flame.
“Allow me,” Iain said, his hands covering hers to take the matches from her grasp.
She could swear that she felt his presence around her, like a warm cloak floating down to land on her shoulders. An instant later the match flared to life, a bright flash harsh against her eyes after the intense black. Another second and the lantern flared to life.