When Amber got the same treatment, Cal stood his ground warily. Thankfully, Pete merely shook his hand and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder.
With a satisfied chuckle, Pete gestured at the leather thong around Amber’s neck. “I see Kate’s already pushing our products.”
Amber clasped the silver circle. “Did you really make this?”
“Sure.” Pete shrugged. “Make ’em all the time. Peace signs are making a comeback. That’s one of the fancier ones, with the little doves on it.”
“I love it,” Amber admitted.
He nodded. “That’s cool. Hey, why don’t you watch us work, maybe try your hand at making something?”
Amber looked stunned. “Can I?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“But I . . . I’m not an artist.”
A smile split the untamed hairs of his beard. “How do you know? Can’t know if you’re any good at a thing if you don’t try it.” While Amber struggled to absorb her sudden apprenticeship, Pete said, “If you don’t like pendants, maybe you’ll like some of Kate’s stuff. She’s into rings.”
Amber blinked at Kate. “You are?”
Kate nodded happily. “Pete taught me. I love to find the perfect setting for a gemstone. It’s such a satisfying art.”
“You’ve seen her work,” Maggie told her. “Remember the onyx ring at my shop?”
Amber’s mouth dropped open. “You made that?”
“Did you like that one? So did I!” Kate gushed. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun together! Let me show you the raw gemstones I’m working with now.”
While Kate led a speechless Amber across the room, Maggie tugged Cal back outside. “We’ve lost them both. Pete and Mom will keep her busy looking at their stones and tools and molds and God knows what else until Marcy calls them for supper.” She stood at the foot of the stone steps and took a deep breath of the pine-scented air, letting it out with a relaxed sigh. She probably didn’t even realize she made that little sigh of contentment, but he’d seen it every time they stepped out of a building. Coming back here relieved the stress that had built up over the past week down in Barringer’s Pass.
“Fine, let’s lose them. Show me something else.” He’d say it even if he weren’t fascinated with the place, just to keep her here.
“You’ve seen it all, unless you want to track down some goats.”
“Sounds good.”
“You want to meet the goats?”
“I want to see the property. Hike around.”
She gave him a speculative look, followed by a sly smile. “I know just the place. But we’ll need a flashlight.”
The mountain sky was blindingly bright, so he didn’t know why they needed a flashlight, but he didn’t ask questions. “I have one in my truck.”
It was a long hike that left the cluster of buildings behind them as they wound up a steep slope. Fewer trees clung to the rocky ground up here. Even the goats weren’t around, with less to forage on. He followed Maggie, content to keep his eyes on her nicely curved ass as she climbed ahead of him. It wasn’t until she paused at a flat area that he noticed the panoramic vista behind them.
“Damn, that’s beautiful.” The mountain sloped down to a thick forest on their left, where the commune nestled behind the trees, and sparsely wooded grassland directly below them. Beyond that, he glimpsed the highway that cut through Barringer’s Pass. The majestic beauty ended at their far right, where an ugly tumble of stones and gravel cut a wide swath down the mountainside. It stood out like a scar, not recent but not as weathered as the granite ledges and deep forests.
“What’s that from, a landslide?”
“It’s tailings. Debris from mining, when they separated the ore from the surrounding stone.” She pointed, moving her finger upward. “Follow it back up the mountain. See where it starts?”
He looked up, but instead of the expected black entrance to a mine tunnel, all he saw was scrub growth. “I don’t see a mine.”
“It’s there. You’ll see.”
It only took another five minutes to reach the ledge that was the source of the tailings. Cal saw nothing but gravel-covered ground with small firs and bushes against the mountainside. Maggie pushed her way through them without hesitation, so he followed.
Branches stabbed his back, but he barely noticed. Against the side of the mountain, old timbers framed a low entrance, with newer boards nailed across it. Maggie pulled at the second and third boards up, pivoting the higher one up, and the other down, revealing a small dark hole. Cool, dank air seeped from its depths.
Excitement tingled in Cal’s veins like jolts of electric current. The mysterious unknown! The boy in him wanted to plunge into the dark, but the adult made him hesitate. “Are we trespassing?”
“Always the cop, huh? The commune owns the land. Pete talked everyone into buying it nearly twenty years ago, when he had some idea about digging out the traces of silver that were too small for a mining company to go after. He shored up the tunnels, but never did much more than that. The mine was played out. It’s safe to explore, though. I’ve been inside a few times.” She flashed a smile. “Just don’t tell anyone we were here. I don’t want them to ruin my secret cave with safety lectures and padlocks.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” He unhooked the Maglite from the belt loop on his jeans, and clicked it on. The strong beam illuminated dirt walls and rusted twin tracks for ore carts, before it was swallowed up by pitch-black depths. He looked up from his crouched position, grinned, and held out a hand to help Maggie through the small opening. Keeping her hand firmly in his, he took short steps away from the small circle of light at the entrance, into the blackness. Walking upright was out—his head scraped the ceiling. He developed a shuffling gait, head tucked down and arm extended, as he aimed the flashlight ahead. With each step he shone the light around at the walls, then the ground before them, ensuring they met no surprises.
No surprises turned out to be a bit boring. No bats, no shiny streaks of silver ore along the tunnel walls, and no hint of the miners who carved out the tunnel over a hundred years before. Cal realized that the little boy inside him had been hoping to find a skeleton with a pouch of silver ore still clutched in its bony grasp.
He chuckled at the image, and heard the sound bounce eerily off the walls.
“What’s funny?” she whispered.
“My imagination. Did you ever see The Goonies?”
She laughed softly. “I’ve been here before. Believe me, if there were treasure, I would have taken it.”
“What is here? Not that this isn’t cool, but does it go anywhere?”
“Just to dead ends. But there is something kind of neat. See right up there, where the tunnel branches? Take the one on the left.”
He did, then wondered at the wisdom of it when he had to crouch even lower. But after twenty or thirty feet the tunnel suddenly widened and became higher. Within three more steps they were standing in a small round room with plenty of clearance overhead. He shone the light around, fascinated by the scrapes and gouges made by pickaxes long ago.
Maggie stood close, her shoulder touching his. “Point the light higher,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.
He did. The beam hit about six feet over their heads, lighting up the wall with tiny sparkles like diamonds blazing against the dull black stone. He moved the light, leaving a trail of sparks across one side of the cavern.
“Is it silver?” he asked, awed.
“Maybe some, but Pete said it’s mostly quartz and mica. Not valuable, but as pretty as any silver that ever came out of here.” She gave a little sigh. “I always think of this place as the star cavern.”
He let the light play around the walls and ceiling, finding the glittery crystals far more concentrated on one side of the cavern. At ground level on the far side, the light touched on strips of wood. He steadied the beam. Several boards lay side by side on the floor of the tunnel.
“It’s a hole,” Maggie s
aid before he could ask. “Pete boarded it over. The shaft is pretty deep and there’s water at the bottom.”
There was nothing else to see in the little room, so he mounded loose gravel on the floor and propped the flashlight in it to point high on the wall, setting the tiny crystals ablaze like stars above them. Outside the narrow beam, the room remained smothered in darkness. Maggie was little more than a warm shadow beside him. Reaching for her, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She leaned against him as they admired the display above.
“Does this mine have a name?” He spoke quietly, the deep blackness and hollow echoes inspiring a cathedral-like hush.
“You mean like the Fortune’s Folly mine?” She shook her head, her hair rubbing softly against his chest. “I never heard one. It just had a number, something like ‘mine fourteen twenty-seven.’ That’s all most of them have. Terribly unromantic.”
It seemed an odd thing to say, since mine 1427 was giving him all sorts of romantic thoughts. With his eyesight effectively gone, other senses strained to compensate, overwhelming his brain with scent and sound and touch. He was acutely aware of the clammy coolness of the air around them and the pleasant, contrasting warmth of Maggie’s body where it touched his. The light fragrance of her hair drifted over him. The softness of her skin was a seductive lure for his fingers, tempting him to touch every part of her. He was drunk with the feel and the scent of her.
He wanted more.
He slid his hands up, beneath her T-shirt and the loose denim shirt she’d thrown over it. Her skin felt hot, so he knew his hands must be cool, but she didn’t flinch away. With a soft sigh, she laid her head back against his shoulder, arching toward his hands. Without seeing, he knew her eyes were closed, knew she delighted in the feel of his hands on her body as much as he did.
He didn’t try to remove her shirt—the mine was too cool for that—but didn’t hesitate when he found the front closure on her bra. She arched even more, giving herself to him, and he filled his hands with her, stroking gently until she breathed a long “Ohhh” into the darkness.
It set him on fire. Blazing with need, he turned her in his arms, finding her mouth with an urgency that pulled at something deep inside him. He hoped like hell his roughness hadn’t ruined the mood.
Maggie’s lips parted eagerly under his. She met his passion with her own, her hands running over his hair, fingers digging into his shoulders. He didn’t need to see her face in the dark to know her desire had soared as fast and high as his own. He could feel heat from the flush in her skin, feel her heart pounding hard against his own. And he knew the need in her body as she stood on her toes, pressing her hips against his.
He wanted her right now, right here. He dropped his hands to her waist, fumbling with her jeans. Her frantic hands were faster, unbuttoning and unzipping, then shoving his jeans and shorts over his hips. Cold air moved over his skin but couldn’t touch the heat that drove him.
Her hands found him and he groaned. Her fingers were cool against the heat of his erection. Soft against his hardness. Firm as they stroked and slid around to cup him. He pushed into her hand then swore under his breath at the raging need and felt for her zipper.
It slid past his hands as she fell to her knees. He barely had time to brace himself before the warmth of her mouth enveloped him. “Jesus, Maggie,” he groaned, then shut up as she drove every thought from his mind, bombarding him with a hundred sensations at once, an explosion of feeling that rocked him to the core. He closed his eyes, which made no difference in the pitch dark of the mine, and stroked her hair, holding on until he couldn’t take any more.
“Maggie, stop.”
She did, cold air hitting him where her mouth had kept him hot. He couldn’t see her, but felt her head tilt upward. Her whisper was low and throaty. “Do you have a condom?”
Her question was a jolt of reality, crashing his plans. “Oh, hell. No. Shit, I’m sorry . . .”
She didn’t listen. Her mouth covered him again, her hands moving, too, her purpose clear. He couldn’t have stopped her if he wanted to. Helpless, he let the need grow until it ripped through him, pulsing against her.
“Christ,” he breathed seconds later, as she rose to her feet. “I didn’t expect . . .” The cold air reminded him to pull his jeans up and fasten them. He moved quickly, in a hurry to reach for her, and found her arm in the dark. He didn’t say anything, just walked backward slowly, pulling her with him as he felt behind his back. He didn’t know if she guessed, but she followed. Three feet. Four. The wall of the cavern met his hand, rough stone curving inward as it rose. He drew her close, then turned and set her back gently against the wall.
He heard her suck in her breath as he knelt in front of her and lowered her jeans. Then there was only heavy breathing as he loved her with both his hands and his mouth. Her fingers gripped his hair as she tilted her hips toward him, holding on as he took her to the same heights she’d taken him. When she gasped and pushed against him he slowed down, pulling a long disappointed groan from her that made him smile. He did it once more, enjoying her frustration, then took her over with out stopping, fast and hard, feeling her release in the spasm of muscles as they clamped around his fingers. Her hands fell limply from his head and her knees bent as she sagged against the wall, letting the solid rock hold her up.
He slid her jeans up and fastened them, then rose to his feet. They hadn’t said a word, but something had passed between them in the dark. Not the crackling electricity of the first time they’d made love, but something deep and powerful all the same. He didn’t know how to put it into words, so he simply pulled her into his arms and held her. She wrapped her arms around him and nestled her head on his shoulder. They stood for a long time like that, beneath the faint glitter of stone stars, and he realized that maybe she didn’t need the words right now. Or maybe she didn’t know them, either. For now, this deep contentment was enough.
Maggie had never been so grateful for the dark. If it had been light, Cal might have seen the moisture that leaked from the corner of her eye, confusing her like crazy, not to mention scaring the shit out her.
You weren’t supposed to get all mushy just because some guy gave you good sex. Okay, great sex, with a lot of tenderness thrown in.
It was the hug that had done it. She knew plenty of guys who would have said, Thanks, that was great! A few might even have high-fived her. But Cal had knocked down her defenses, then tapped right into the soft center that she tried to pretend she didn’t have. And she’d practically melted in his arms. At least he couldn’t see her, and by the time they got out of here she’d have herself back together. They’d be the same two people they were when they walked in here. None of this scary emotional shit that she had no experience with.
Feeling more settled, she pulled back. He did, too, although he still stood close, and his hands stayed on her arms. She already missed the warmth and the scent of him.
One of them should say something to break whatever this thing was that vibrated between them and caused weird little tingles in her chest. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak a soft rustling sound came from her right. Then another.
He must have heard it, too. “Are there animals in here?” he whispered.
“Maybe bats,” she said doubtfully. “But not this far in.”
They stood perfectly still, listening. Seconds later they heard it, this time a low murmur, like a far-off voice. It came from deeper in the tunnel, somewhere to their right.
His hand slid down to clasp hers. Keeping her close, he shuffled back to the flashlight and picked it up, shining it toward the far end of the cavern. They saw nothing but the boarded-up hole before the light was swallowed by the dark tunnel beyond.
Cal walked slowly forward. Maggie wasn’t sure she wanted to run into someone in the mine, but she wasn’t alone and curiosity was overcoming fear. She crept silently beside him, holding tight to his hand.
They reached the boards ove
r the hole, an area only five or six feet in diameter. Cal started around it, then stopped at another sound. The voice was closer. Not distinct enough to tell what the man said, but enough to know he wasn’t far away.
It came from the hole.
They knelt on the gritty floor as Cal shone the light over the boards. Most were close together, but a large gap showed where two boards had rotted away and fallen into the hole. The rest shone with moisture. Maggie realized the air felt damp, too, and looked around as Cal’s flashlight explored the walls. Small rivulets of water left wet paths on the wall and snaked their way to the hole. The miners had probably only enlarged a hole or fissure that was already there, following the course of the water.
The flashlight played over the boards again and the dark gap that revealed the rough walls of the shaft below. With sudden alarm she grabbed his hand, pushing the flashlight away from the boards.
He aimed the light at her chest, not blinding her but allowing him to see her. She probably looked as shadowed and eerie as he did. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“They might see it,” she said, pointing at the hole. She wasn’t even sure why she was being secretive. Why she didn’t yell hello and ask how the tunnel was down there. Exploring an old mine didn’t make the other people suspicious, any more than it did her and Cal.
But Cal must have felt the same caution, because he nodded and kept the light pointed up. As they stared into the hole, she noticed a faint glow lighting the bottom, creating a shiny black reflection that moved across the water. It wasn’t the narrow beam of a flashlight, and she assumed someone down there had a lantern.
More murmuring reached them, still indistinct but never varying in tone. “It sounds more like one person talking to himself,” she said.
“I think you’re right.” They listened for another minute before Cal whispered, “I don’t hear splashing sounds. I thought you said there was water at the bottom of the hole.”
Silver Sparks Page 19