“I know. God speed, Mari.”
“God keep you.” Anticipation tying new knots in her chest, she pulled up the mental image of the map again, strained to be sure she heard no footsteps returning, and then darted along the wall of the cavern. Ten long steps and she could breathe again, back in the cover of darkness.
Trying not to think about what might be creeping and crawling along beside her, she felt her way along the tunnel, nearly panicking when her hair brushed the ceiling, when the sides closed in. Near panic ratcheted to full panic when she heard the men’s voices echoing through the main chamber.
But that was good. If they were inside, they wouldn’t be outside when she emerged. Drawing in a calming breath and whispering another prayer, she pressed on. The tunnel couldn’t get too small, or Dev never would have made it through to realize it was an exit.
No light told her when she reached the end, nothing but rock one moment and then wet leaves in her face. Her toes struck a wall, her hands found a ledge, a hole. Pushing aside the leaves, weak moonlight filtered through the disbursing clouds.
She sifted through the other maps in her mind, finding the one of the area. Assuming this was the dot he had circled, assuming the other markings were accurate, her best bet was the inn a mile away.
If only he had noted every tree root, every undulation in the landscape. If only she had spent more time outside with the boys on Grandpapa Alain’s wooded property in Connecticut. If only, when she crawled out into the chilly night, a hand of sorrow didn’t press on her heart.
She curled into a ball on the wet ground to catch her breath. Sorrow choked her and made the tears well.
He was gone. Slade was gone, his body probably but a mile or two away—the train had squealed to a halt so soon after he fell. Let someone find him. Let me take him home to his parents. Let me…let me…
The sorrow pressed her down into the earth until it threatened to swallow her.
His face swam before her, frozen in that last moment, the one that sealed his fate. When love had pulsed from his midnight eyes, when he had said without a single word that she was all that mattered. When his hand had given that simple, profound command. Live.
“Jesus, help me.” The words were barely a whisper.
But He was a rushing wind. It swept over her, blew away the sorrow, and lifted her back to her feet. Without another thought, she took off at a run toward that scratch on the map.
Sensations swirled and melded, a cacophony of impressions that made little sense. The light hurt. Why did the light hurt? Heaven should be free of pain.
Daggers attacked his chest when he drew a breath, and Slade’s eyes flew open at the agony. The ceiling spun. A little face appeared above him with a cloud of dark hair and a smudge on her cheek. If she was an angel, then she needed to take a swim in the crystal lake.
“Are you waking up?” The cherub bent over him, a sticky hand on his arm. “Aunt Abigail said to holler if you wake up. But you keep opening your eyes and just shutting them again, and that doesn’t seem very awake. I do that sometimes when Ruby tries to get me to go to school but I don’t wanna.”
Abigail…Ruby…faces flashed to match the names, but they wouldn’t still long enough to figure out why he knew them. He drew in another breath, more slowly, and blinked.
The girl’s halo cleared, and freckles appeared on her nose. She grinned down at him and patted his bare arm with those sticky fingers. “My name’s Rose. I usually have to be in bed by nine o’clock, but it’s almost eleven now, and I’m still up because you could die any minute, and it ain’t right for a man to die alone, but all these guests are flooding in from the train stuck behind the fallen tree up on the mountain.”
“Rose Elizabeth Kent, will you stop chattering for five minutes and let the man die in peace?” A boy’s voice came from the left, tired and short.
The cherub stuck out her tongue. “His eyes are open.”
“What?” Footsteps, and then a boy’s face joined Rose’s over him. Her brother, from the looks of him. His eyes went wide. “Mister? Mister, can you hear me? Say something if you can hear me.”
The girl gave the boy a push. “He’s hearing me. I’m the one talking to him. You’re just hiding in the hall in a grump.”
Slade swallowed and tried flexing his fingers. How was it possible that he was alive? The pain searing his chest proved the bullet had struck, and he remembered falling into nothingness. And then…what?
“Yetta.” Her hair, he saw her hair spilling from the freight car’s door. Did she fall? Was she here somewhere too? Oh God, let her be alive. Please, please let her be alive.