They were trapped. Imprisoned in a rock-walled tomb. Buried alive!
"Dear God . . ." she croaked, her voice hoarse with panic.
She heard Devlin crawling toward her, and suddenly she couldn't seem to stop babbling. "It was my fault . . . all my fault. . . . I shouldn't have left to go check out that noise . . . they must have started the fire . . . Oh, God . . . we're trapped . . . we'll never get out—"
Her voice cracked on a rising note of hysteria as Devlin reached her and grabbed her arm. The small flame went out, leaving them surrounded by blackness again, and she gave a keening animal cry.
"Stop it, Jess! Dammit, get a hold of yourself!"
She felt his fingers dig into her flesh as he pulled her up from the rough floor and shook her. With a choked sob, Jess flung herself at Devlin's chest. Instantly, his arms closed around her, holding her protectively while he muttered meaningless sounds in her ear.
"Don't fall apart on me, angel. . . . Take a deep breath. . . . That's a good girl. . . . That's my sweet Jessie."
On his knees, he cradled her tightly, fiercely, his body absorbing the tremors from her own. Gradually, her whimpers subsided. Devlin let out a deep breath.
"Jess, tell me where you're hurt. I have to know."
She swallowed hard, trying to force back the raw edge of panic as she willed her mind to function. She felt bruised and battered all over, but the worst pain was in her head. "My . . . temple . . . the left . . ."
His fingers came up to gently feel her face, moving to touch her hair. "I think you're bleeding. Let me up, sweetheart. I have to have a light. It should be safe now that the worst dust has settled."
Her arms tightened in a stranglehold around his waist. "Don't leave me!"
"I won't, I promise. I'm just going to stand up for a minute. I'll be right back."
It was long moment before Jess felt brave enough to let him go. Pulling away, Devlin struck a match on the heel of his boot.
The box had come from his vest pocket, Jess saw.
"Lucky I came prepared." He flashed her a smile that made her blink in confusion. How could he be so unconcerned? Didn't he know they might very well die?
She watched in bewilderment as he lit the candle in the wrought iron sconce mounted on the tunnel wall. Then he knelt beside her again and examined her temple in the flickering light.
"Yep, you're bleeding . . . a nasty gash. Bet it hurts like hell." Without warning, he bent over and raised her skirt to her knee. "What fun. I get to undress you after all."
His m
outh curving in a smug grin, he tore several strips off her petticoat, then made a pad and pressed it against the bleeding flesh at her temple. Ignoring her wince, he wound another long strip around her head, fashioning a headband to hold the bandage in place. Finally he pressed his lips gently against her forehead in a soothing kiss.
"If we only had a feather," Devlin teased, "you would look like an Indian brave. Now help me think, Jess. What should we do?"
"D-do?"
"You're the mine expert here. You'd better take charge or we'll wind up in a heap of trouble."
We already are in a heap of trouble, she wanted to reply, but she couldn't force the words past her dry throat.
"Jess?" Devlin repeated patiently.
Dazedly, she looked around her, peering through the haze of dust. What had happened? Someone had dynamited the entrance to the mine, that much was clear. The tunnel roof had caved in, spilling a deadly wall of dirt and rock some ten yards away, barricading the entrance. How thick the wall was, she couldn't guess. At least the heavy timbers propping up the ceiling adjacent to the entrance had held, keeping the mass of dirt and stone above their heads from crushing them. And the fire had been extinguished by the rubble.
Jess closed her eyes as she thought of how close they'd just come to death. Growing up in a mining town, she'd heard countless stories of cave-ins—called "caves" by anyone in the business—that buried miners under tons of rock. Few escaped alive, without terrible injuries. Her father worked daily with explosives, blasting rock into ore, and her greatest fear had always been that some day Riley would miscalculate in setting a giant powder charge and bring the mountain down on his head.
And now, here she and Devlin were, trapped in a rock-bound passage, four feet wide, seven feet high, without air or food. . . .
The blackness closed in on her again and she couldn't seem to breathe. . . .
"Jess!" Devlin's harsh voice prodded her sharply. "I never would have expected you to quit when the going gets tough."