by L. L. Muir
Iain stood so close she could feel the heat wafting from his body. Only with the greatest determination was she able to keep herself from leaning into him.
“Yer shivering,” he said. “Perhaps yer advice for a jacket would have been well taken, aye?”
“I’m fine,” she muttered, flipping the switch to turn the electricity back on before turning to retrace their steps to the entrance. “We’ll have you tag along on a couple of real tours. Then you’ll lead a couple and I’ll tag along to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Does that sound like—”
As she spoke, she suddenly realized Iain was no longer at her side.
“Iain? Iain!”
“I’m just here,” he called, his voice echoing from a dark tunnel off the main path.
When she hurried in his direction, she could see the lantern he still carried, a small light bobbing in the distance.
“Stop right there!” she yelled at him. “Not another step!”
“This is no’ the way?”
“No, sir, it is not,” she answered, grabbing his arm as she reached his side. “This area is dangerous. There’s a pit just a little farther down this way that’s been the end of more than one miner. Come on. No one should be down here.”
She slid her hand down his arm to tangle her fingers with his, pulling him away from the detour.
“No lights,” Iain murmured. “I should have guessed I was headed the wrong way.”
“Not your fault,” Sallie consoled. “Accident averted. I’ll need to get Justin down here to fix that before someone else wanders off the rails.”
At the bend in the tunnel where Iain had taken his wrong turn, Sallie stopped, staring back down into the dark. “I could have sworn the caution tape was across this opening when we came by this way.”
But, obviously, she had been wrong. Just went to show how her mind could make her think something was where it belonged because she expected it to be there. It wasn’t just that the warning tape had come loose and fallen to the ground. There was none of the yellow tape anywhere around. A mystery that needed solving, to be sure. But the mystery wasn’t near as high on the list of priorities as getting a new barrier erected.
*
“Who is Salome?” Iain asked.
“What did you say?” Sallie asked, stopping mid-stride and turning back to face him. “Where did you hear that name?”
Though Sallie clearly doubted herself about the warning in the mine, she had been correct. There had been a barrier of yellow ribbons strung across the opening to the secondary tunnel when they’d passed that opening. Iain remembered having seen it because, at the time, he’d wondered about it, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt her story about the original miners to ask. The fact that the barrier wasn’t there now was only confirmation of what Iain had suspected while they were inside. Someone else had been in the mine with them. Someone who had followed them while Sallie had gone through his training. Someone who had spied upon them. And, more to the point, someone who had hidden in the side tunnel when they were on their way out.
That same someone had made just enough noise to attract their attention. Someone who had whispered the name Salome. Without a doubt, the someone in question had done his best to get them to follow him down the dangerous side tunnel.
Iain shook his head, staring back in the direction of the tunnel they’d been down, wishing he’d had more opportunity to investigate who might still be hiding there.
“In the tunnel,” he answered at last. “I thought I heard someone calling out for Salome.”
Sallie’s eyes went wide for a moment and she crossed her arms protectively in front of her, hands rubbing against her skin like someone trying to ward off a chill.
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” she said. “No one was in there but you and me. Not unless you believe in ghosts.”
The chuckle she ended on sounded half-hearted to him.
“I’ve no call to doubt their existence,” he said. Especially not since he was one. “Is Salome a ghost?”
“No,” Sallie answered, starting forward again, her steps a little quicker than they had been before. “I’m Salome. It’s my real name, though I’m not at all fond of it. I much prefer Sallie.”
Just like that, as surely as if he’d been given the name of the person he was supposed to protect, Iain knew that Sallie was the one he’d been sent here to save. Why the man she was promised to wasn’t the one responsible for saving her, he couldn’t imagine. All he knew was that it had to be her. He’d never before in the whole of his life met anyone who he had instantly felt such a great need to protect.
He glanced over at her as they walked toward the camp. She wore her long, brown hair gathered up with a band at the back of her head. It cascaded down to the middle of her back, swinging hypnotically from side to side with each step she took.
He was mesmerized by her every movement, her every word. Her voice held a melodic note when she spoke that reminded him of his old granny’s stories about the wild Faeries who lived in the woods near his childhood home.
Yes, without a doubt, Sallie was the reason he was here. She was the innocent he’d been sent to save. Knowing that left him only one task. The task of discovering what—or who—he was meant to save her from.
And though he’d never been a man drawn to gambling, Iain was willing to bet his life that the who he needed to save her from was the same person who’d followed them inside Toliver Mine. The same person who’d called her name from the depths of that shaft.
Chapter 4
Some people were simply born to be cooks. Creating wonderful food was a gift, a talent, just like painting or singing or sculpting.
In Sallie’s opinion, Manda Turner was one of those gifted people. Since Manda had joined their crew, the smells wafting through the camp were equaled only by the meals themselves.
Tonight was no exception.
While the dinner itself had been delicious, it was the dessert Sallie had been waiting for since the first hints of cinnamon and apples had tickled her senses.
The crew had drifted into the dining hall in ones and twos as they finished their chores until, at last, almost everyone was present. Justin appeared to have taken the new guy, Iain, under his wing, including him at the table where he always ate with Dusty and Tony. It had been this way since the first day Iain had arrived.
A sense of well-being settled over Sallie as she dipped her spoon into the steaming mound of apple goodness. They had a good group of guides this year. Justin had started the same year she had and the others, except for Iain and Dale, had come the year after. The personalities meshed well, as evidenced by the volume of the conversation, interrupted frequently by comfortable laughter.
It was shaping up to be a good year at the Toliver, though tomorrow would be the true test. Tomorrow was the first day the tours would open for the season and, from the last tally she’d seen, every tour was booked full.
Sallie’s first bite had finally cooled enough for her to pop it into her mouth. She closed her eyes, allowing her senses to revel in the flavors playing over her tongue.
This was life as it should be, an excellent ending to a great day. The beginning of a great season. Nothing could steal from her the lovely calm that settled on her shoulders.
“Here’s my woman,” Dale said, dropping his tray down beside hers. “The day has dragged while I waited to see you again.”
Maybe there was something that could steal her calm, after all.
Sallie opened her eyes as Dale fit himself into the seat next to her. When he scooted his chair closer and nudged his foot next to hers, the dessert in front of her lost its appeal.
Just as well. Those were surely calories she didn’t need. Besides, she still had chores of her own to do.
As she pushed her chair back to stand, Dale’s hand shot out to grab her wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going? I just got here.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to move over to
one of the other tables if you want company while you eat,” she said, forcing a smile to her lips. “I have animals waiting for me to get them their dinner.”
Thank goodness. The company of the petting zoo inhabitants was highly preferable to that of her current companion.
A quick twist of her hand and she was free of Dale’s touch. Free to escape into the approaching twilight of a Colorado mountain evening.
The sheep and goats bleated their welcome as she approached, sending a twinge of guilt through her chest. She should have done this before she’d gone in to feed herself. Even the pigs looked happy to see her. Only the old llama, as usual, remained indifferent to her arrival.
She’d have to bring them all a special treat tomorrow to make amends. Maybe Manda would have some leftover apples.
Barely five minutes into hauling feed from the shed, a noise from somewhere in the direction of the trees set her nerves twitching. When a gentle hand touched her shoulder, she jumped and dropped the bucket she held.
“For crying out loud,” she said once she realized it was Iain who stood beside her. “You scared me half to death. Don’t you know any better than to creep up on people like that?”
The grin on his face did little to calm her pounding heart.
“My apologies, Sallie,” he said, before bending down to retrieve her bucket. “I’d no intention to frighten you. I’ve seen you out here each night and on this night I thought to offer my assistance with the feeding.”
Her first instinct was to reject his offer. Time spent with the animals was one of her favorite tasks and she had no real desire to hasten it along. On the other hand, watering them meant using the old pump and having a strong arm to help with that particular part of the process would be a welcome change.
“I suppose you can help, if you really want to,” she said, realizing as she spoke she sounded less than inviting. “But you need to make sure you aren’t going to get all freaked out when they come at you. Some of them are older and they need a calm hand.”
“You’ve no call to worry yerself over that,” Iain said, his grin giving way to a serious expression. “I grew up around beasts such as these. They’ll no’ rattle my composure. If anything, they’ll calm me as much as I calm them. It’s been a number of years since I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with their like.”
“Really? I was raised around animals, too. On my family’s ranch out in the eastern part of the state. To be honest, being able to work with these guys was the one thing that originally drew me to this job. Though, now, of course, I love everything about what I do here at Toliver Mine.”
Why couldn’t she just shut up and enjoy the moment? If they gave awards for diarrhea of the mouth, she should be at the head of the line for winning that one. For some reason, being around Iain made her nervous and when she got nervous, she couldn’t quit talking. It had happened every single day as she’d gone through his training. She could only wonder at what he thought of her.
No, strike that. She’d been such a doofus around him, she really didn’t want to know what he thought of her.
With an effort, she clamped her lips together, putting her full concentration into the old pump handle.
“Here,” Iain said, his voice a warm blanket of rolling brogue as he gently pushed her to one side. “Let me do that. You switch the buckets.”
He assumed her spot at the pump, appearing to easily do with one arm that which had taken her whole body strength to accomplish.
“I’ve a curiosity,” he said as they carried their filled buckets back to the pens. “I hope you’ll no’ take offense if I ask something personal. It’s been on my mind since the day I first arrived.”
“Ask away,” she said, hurrying to keep up with the speed at which he pumped taking the better part of her concentration. “I promise not to be offended.”
“Why is it that Dale is no’ out here helping you with yer evening chores?”
The muscles in his arms flexed and contracted with each pump of the handle, distracting her almost to the point of preventing her from answering.
“I don’t…” She swallowed and pulled her gaze from his arm before trying again. “That’s an odd question. Why would you expect Dale to be out here helping me?”
A puzzled expression wrinkled Iain’s brow. “I should think it obvious. He told me yer to be wed, the two of you. That being the case, I canna ken why he’d leave you to do this work on yer own.”
“What?” Sallie jerked upright so quickly that water in the bucket she held sloshed out onto her bare legs. “He actually said those words to you? That’s so not true. I have absolutely no relationship whatsoever with Dale. I’ve only known him for a few weeks. People don’t fall in love in just a couple of weeks and they sure as heck don’t plan to get married in that length of time.”
Sallie had harbored the hope that Dale had given up all the nonsense about their being meant to be together. Apparently he hadn’t.
“It could happen,” Iain said quietly, continuing to work the pump handle up and down. “My own grandmother swore that an ancestor of hers had worked in a castle where everyone had been touched by a Faerie’s blessing, decreeing that they and all their families should find their own true loves. When those people were brought together, falling in love was no’ a matter of time. It happened in the first moments they laid eyes upon one another.” He stopped pumping and straightened up, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. “Or so my grandmother claimed.”
Was this guy for real?
“Yeah, well, in spite of what your grandmother told you, I’m not a big believer in Faeries,” Sallie said. “So, in my Faerieless world, people don’t fall in love and decide to get married instantly. And even if they did, I can assure you, Dale is not my true love. If I feel anything for him at all, it’s major irritation that he’s acting this way. To be honest, he’s beginning to make me really uncomfortable.”
And more than a little angry.
Iain nodded, the smile disappearing as his eyes clouded before he looked away. He picked up the two filled buckets at his feet and waited while Sallie started forward. In silence, they began to fill the troughs in each of the animal pens. They’d emptied all the buckets before he spoke again.
“I’ve considered yer situation, and, as I see it, yer best plan would be to have yer men folk speak with Dale.”
“My men folk?” Sallie chuckled, wiping her damp hands on the legs of her shorts. “I’m not sure who you mean when you suggest that, but I can assure you, I’m the one who’ll be having a chat with Dale.”
Iain stopped, his expression more serious than she’d seen before. “His behavior is unseemly. It’s the men of yer family who should speak to him on yer behalf. Have you no father, no brothers to look after yer interests in the world?”
What a quaint, old-fashioned response. Quaint, old-fashioned and more than a little sexist. Sallie studied her companion a moment before answering, deciding at last that he meant no disrespect by his comments. Maybe such views were openly held wherever he’d been raised. Whatever his reasoning, she would do her best to take his comments in the spirit in which they’d been offered.
“I don’t have any brothers, Iain. And my dad lives too far away for me to expect him to fight my battles for me.” She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ve learned to do that for myself. There’s no need to worry about it. I can take care of myself.”
Besides, her father had made it pretty clear that she was on her own after her last bad relationship.
Iain held her gaze for a moment, then shifted his focus to the persistent sheep butting against his leg. With a thoughtful smile, he reached down to scratch the animal’s head. The sheep’s contented bleating drowned out his response, but she could have sworn he mumbled something about this being the reason he was here.
*
“What did you say?”
Iain looked up from the attention-hog at his feet to find Sallie staring at him, her eyes roun
d with disbelief. Careless of him to have spoken his thoughts aloud.
“Only that I’ve missed this since I’ve been here,” he lied, dipping his head to indicate the animal he stroked. “There’s never any question of where you stand with beasts of the field. They either like you or no’ leaving little enough room to wonder or worry.”
He knew his answer had satisfied her when she sighed and let out her breath in a chuckle, a soft smile relaxing the lines on her lovely face.
“True enough,” she agreed. “I’ve often thought that I prefer their company to that of people.”
There was a sentiment he could accept. He’d felt that way often enough himself.
“When I was younger, this was how I dreamed of spending my life. A small plot of land, animals to tend, a woman of my own, a family to greet me each night. There was life to strive toward.”
Why he shared something so intimate, he had no idea. He could only be thankful that he’d stopped himself before he’d said more. Before he’d said what was really on his mind. Before he’d said that what he’d dreamed of was a woman like the one who shared this moment with him now.
“Simple enough dreams,” Sallie said with a smile. “And yet, you left your home and traveled thousands of miles to come here. Why? What brought you here?”
“A quest of sorts,” he answered, unwilling to tell her more. “A settling of one part of my existence so that I might get on with the next.”
She nodded as if trying to understand his cryptic response. As gentle and kind as this woman seemed, he doubted she’d be impressed with a man who needed his full measure of revenge in order to pass into the beyond. When he tried to see himself through her eyes, he wasn’t sure that he was all that impressed, either.
He helped as she gathered buckets and they carried everything back to the small shed at the corner of the pens.