Promise Me (31 page)

“Get down and cover your head.” He took one step toward her as a flash of light illuminated the dark chamber. A deafening sound followed the brilliant flash. Sam hurtled through the air as dust, rocks, and gravel swirled around him. He tumbled to the ground, recognizing the acrid smell of dynamite. His head was thick, clouded, and his lungs felt as if he would never again be able to take a breath.

He was dying, and his biggest regret was that he now had so much to live for. Damn God for his ironic sense of humor. He only hoped that by some miracle, Amanda had escaped the force of the blast.

The burning in his lungs subsided, and he heard a voice in the darkness.

“Sam?”

It was thin and plaintive. He wasn't dead yet, and apparently neither was she.

“Here.” He was numb, unable to move, and now incapable of even calling out to the woman he loved.

“Sam?” The voice was closer now, and he heard the crunching of steps. Amanda could move around, so she was in better shape than he was. Finally, a hand touched his shoulder.

In the space of a few moments she was beside him, her voice panicked as her hands traveled across his body. It was going to be a pleasant death, for that much he should be grateful. His last memory would be of Amanda's gentle, loving touch.

“What's wrong?” The words were thick, barely audible in the darkness.

He heard her take a deep breath. “It's...” Her voice was sharp with panic. She took another breath. “Are you in much pain?”

He thought there was a great weight on his right leg, but other than that, he couldn't really feel anything. “I don't think so.”

“I want you to lie still.” She sounded gruff as a general ordering an army to battle.

Sam grinned, but knew she couldn't see his expression in the thick darkness. “I can't move, darlin'. I think there's something sitting on my leg, pinning me down.”

Her hands moved across his body again, and he decided that if God's humor was ironic, at least he was taking the memory of Amanda's touch to the grave. There were worse things to remember in the final moments of your life.

“It's one of the timbers.” His head began to ache and the clouds seemed to be disappearing. He noticed a pressure across his entire lower body.

“I can't move it.” Her voice carried an edge of hysteria.

“Stay calm, darlin'. If you panic, neither one of us is going to make it out of here.” Sam searched for a well-spring of strength, and found enough to move one arm and reach out for her.

Her head settled upon his chest, and tears seeped into the fabric of his shirt. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

Her words caressed him. Sam realized he didn't want to die in this dark tunnel with the woman he loved weeping by his side. Damn the cruelties of life, but he had every intention of living.

“I love you, too, Amanda.” He stroked the softness of her hair, wrapping one silken curl around a finger. “And I don't plan to end my days down here.”

She lifted her head, and he knew she was struggling to see him through the inky blackness. He wished there was a light. His entire being ached with the need to see her face.

“Search my pockets.”

She did as he directed, and within just a few moments he heard the sound of a Lucifer match being struck. A pale light illuminated Amanda's terrified expression.

She leaned forward, looking at his right leg, then she tried to mask the concern that swept across her face.

“How bad is it, darlin'?” His words felt thick in his mouth as the clouds returned to obscure his vision.

“It's bleeding, but not badly. I'm going to tear off some strips from my petticoats and wrap them around your leg.” The match fizzled and they were once again plunged into darkness. Fear clawed at him at the sound of fabric ripping. He would have to depend on Amanda for help. He should be the one taking care of her.

He floated in and out of consciousness as she bandaged his upper leg, but he struggled to keep his focus.

“I need you to do something brave.” His words were measured, still an effort to produce. “You have to go get help.”

Her strangled sob was the only reply. He waited for the words to settle in so she could absorb them.

“I'm not brave, Sam. If I were brave, I never would have let you walk away from me in the first place. If I were brave, I would have believed in you. I should have known you would never intentionally hurt me. But I'm a weak and foolish coward.”

She dissolved into tears again, and although the sound broke Sam's heart, he let her cry. She needed to wash away the pain of this night.

Finally, her sobs dissolved into hiccups. “I should have trusted you, and now I think I know why you couldn't tell me the truth. You're not who you say you are Sam, and even though I should hate you for the lies you've told me, I can't seem to find anything in my heart but love and regret.”

“I promise, darlin', when we get out of this mess, I'm going to tell you everything. But if we're going to make it, you've got to get out of here and get some help.” A sharp pain ripped through his leg.

“I don't have any choice, do I?” she whispered.

He wished he had words to reassure her, but there weren't any. It was going to be difficult, but Sam needed to send her into the endless darkness of the mine shaft, because it was the only way she might be able to survive.

“No.” The word echoed in the silence. He didn't want to ask this of her, but she was right. They didn't have many choices.

“You have to try to find a way out.” He coughed and the effort produced a deep, aching pain in his chest. “If you follow the rails, there's an air shaft. You need to stay to the right.” He took a moment to capture a breath. “Keep to the right at every turn and you should find it. Go up, never down.”

“I can't leave you.” Her words were sharp, and she bolstered them with a gentle caress. He brought her delicate fingers to his lips to kiss them.

“You'll save my life if you do this.” He didn't want to frighten her, but she needed to hear the truth. “I can't feel anything below my waist, and I can tell you from my experiences in the war, that's not a good thing.”

She touched his face lightly before leaning forward to place her lips on his in a kiss filled with all the sweetness and promise he could desire. He prayed his thanks to God that if it were his last, that it should be so tender and filled with love.

“I'll get help. I've finally captured you, Samuel Calhoun, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you escape from me this time.”

She rose to her feet, and he admired the way she marshaled her strength.

“Save your matches for the stopes, those are the bigger chambers. If you're lucky, you'll find a miner's lamp in one of them.”

“Close your eyes, Sam. Rest if you can, and I promise I'll come back for you.”

“I'll just be waiting right here for you, darlin'.” He laid his head back, exhausted from the effort of talking.

He listened carefully. Slowly, her steps drifted farther and farther away. He was completely, totally alone. It took all of his strength to keep from calling out to her, to bring her back to his side. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that dying all alone in the darkness didn't matter. He had put on a brave face in front of Amanda, but now that she was gone, fear tripped in and sat down beside him. One thought kept him from dissolving into terror.

Amanda had promised to come back for him, and he knew she was a woman who kept her promises.

***

The tunnels seemed endless. Amanda felt she'd been journeying through them for days. Yet they continued to stretch out, dividing into different directions and wandering deep beneath the ground. At each intersection, she turned right, making sure she maintained her direction despite the absence of light. If she became really confused, she lit a match. But she was careful not to waste the precious reserve of Lucifers.

She heard the skittering of small animals, and fear raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Soon, she recalled childhood tales that made the darkness even more terrifying. Tales of horrid trolls who labored deep beneath the ground, ancient dragons and caverns filled with the ghosts of pirates protecting their plunder.

She kept her pace steady and even as possible, working to stay in the center of the tunnels by stretching her arms out straight at her sides. Twice she stumbled against a piece of equipment left in the tunnel and fell. Her hands were scraped with cuts from tumbling over a pick, yet she'd been grateful she hadn't found the sharp edge piercing an arm or leg. A shovel had bruised a shin, but it was nothing compared to the pain she knew Sam was enduring.

Finally, in one of the larger stopes, she found a copper miner's lamp filled with oil and with a complete wick. The small treasure was precious as the jewels and gold she had imagined. The thin flickering light gave her hope.

She stumbled on, nearing exhaustion, but always remembering Sam. Her sweet, infuriating, beloved, Sam. She tried to keep the fear from overwhelming her as she thought about him lying, hurt and in pain, far behind her. She had to keep searching, because she had never let him know the true extent of his injuries. She didn't want him to know how badly he was bleeding.

She swore once again when she found herself at a split in the tunnels. How far beneath ground did these shafts extend? She could have sworn she'd been climbing up for the past half-hour, yet there was no sign of daylight. No indication of the air shaft Sam had been so sure existed.

She didn't want to consider what would happen if she couldn't find a way out. She wasn't sure she could locate Sam again, and she didn't want to be forced to sit and watch him endure a slow and painful death. She shuddered at the thought, her stomach twisting at the reality that she could wander these tunnels for weeks and not be found.

She should have told Sam about the threats against her, but she'd been too proud and too angry with him. She'd wanted to prove she didn't need him, when now all she could think about was how much precious time they'd wasted arguing.

If she lived and Sam didn't, how could she explain to their child that they'd been too pigheaded to settle their differences and be honest with each other? How could she live her life, knowing what a fool she'd been?

She shuddered and tried to imagine a different scenario. Her life was going to be filled with love and happiness. She would have a family, build a life with Sam, and never once take any moment of wonder and joy for granted again.

Please God, she begged. I know I've wandered from the path, but I need your help. The prayer became a guide for her, one step after another. She stopped and sniffed the air. It seemed warmer, fresher smelling. There was a noise and she cocked her head to capture it.

Hello
. She thought she heard someone calling out in the darkness.

Was that it? She struggled in the direction she thought the sound had come from, but was greeted only with dark silence. Was she losing her faculties, imagining voices that existed only in her head?

“Hello.”

She wasn't delirious or insane. That was a human voice, and despite the fact that it might be her captors trying to find out if they'd survived the cave-in, she didn't care.

“Here,” she screamed, her own voice startling her as it echoed down the long, lonely tunnels. If it was Mr. Penny and that horrid Jack Pruitt, she hoped they'd shoot her and get the agony over with. “I'm here.”

“Mrs. Calhoun?” It was a male voice.

“Yes, I'm here. Keep calling me and I'll answer.” She heard steps moving closer, then a thin light shone at the end of a long tunnel. “Here,” she yelled as loudly as she could. The light grew brighter, and she nearly fell to her knees, sobbing in relief.

Three large men appeared in a glow of lantern light. “Mrs. Calhoun, are you hurt?”

Strong arms prevented her from collapsing to the ground. She recognized the faces of several of her miners, including Margaret Abbott's husband, Lyman. Her heart lifted with hope and she closed her eyes in gratitude that one prayer had been answered. She'd found help, and now they could go get Sam. She recalled the blood she'd seen on his leg and swallowed the huge lump in her throat. Even in the darkness, she knew he was badly hurt.

“Thank God we found you.” A rough tenderness laced his words. “We thought you'd been killed in the cave-in.”

She grabbed him ferociously by the collar. “Sam's hurt. He's back in the tunnels. We've got to get back there and get him; he's hurt badly, Lyman.”

He patted her gently, and pointed at the other men. “See if you can find him, I'll get her out of the tunnels and bring more men.”

A sudden panic rose within Amanda, making her voice thin and plaintive. “No, I've got to take you back to him.” She struggled to make them understand. “It's so far back, and I can't even remember...” Her voice trailed off into a sob.

How would she be able to find Sam? There had been so many twists and turns to get here. A wave of despair rolled over her. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to live if Sam was going to be left all alone in the darkness to suffer a solitary and painful death.