Chapter 6

SIX

Mike noticed the way Naomi—as the youngest girl had called her

—withdrew into herself as they walked along. Before she’d been determined, anxious, and practical by turns. Now preoccupied seemed the best word to describe her trek. With her face half hidden beneath the bandana she used as a mask, Mike couldn’t tell whether Naomi strengthened her resolve or sank deeper into her worries.

When a short t of coughing stopped her progress, she’d still thought to move aside. Obviously she wasn’t about to slow things down. After he passed her, Mike hesitated, waiting for her to come back on the path. When she moved, he continued on around a turn.

He wanted to wait for her but didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. A few steps later Mike realized she still hadn’t followed.

So he went back for her. Awkward or not, he needed to make sure she was all right. Mike went back around the bend, gaining speed when he spotted her. Half bent over beside a large boulder, with her breath coming in short, uneven gasps, she was in trouble.

Mike’s rst thought, looking into her wide, frightened eyes, was that she was choking. It sounded like she was still drawing air, so something must’ve stuck in her throat … . There was only one thing to do. He slapped his hand against her upper back, hard enough to dislodge whatever was blocking her airway. The thump of the blow made him wince—nothing but this could have made him strike a woman.

Mike peered at her. The woman remained doubled over, but the strange little gasps stopped. Fear gripped him—had he shifted the obstacle and made the situation worse? She wasn’t speaking … .

He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her upright, yanking the bandana down. She gave a strangled-sounding hiss and jerked away, eyes narrowed. Yep, the lady looked angry, but since she was breathing again, Mike didn’t care. He wanted to hug the woman.

“What are you doing?” Her indignation e ectively doused his triumph. “Do you usually swing rst and ask questions later?”

“You weren’t choking.” Now he sounded as foolish as he felt.

“No.” The outrage vanished in a blink, replaced by tears as she looked back toward the massive boulder. “I just couldn’t …” She swallowed visibly, struggling to explain and nally giving up. She gestured toward the base of the huge rock. “Over there.”

Fighting back a terrible suspicion over what would so upset this woman, Mike moved over to look. What he saw made his own lungs stop working for a minute. Beneath the stone stretched the bottom half of a man’s torso and his legs. A closer look revealed a hand covered in dirt, outstretched in a silent plea for help.

No blood caked the ground, but Mike knew the man’s head had been crushed instantly. Without knowing what else to do, Mike gathered a grief-stricken Naomi in his arms, shielding her from the horri c sight. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed, unable to keep a brave face in the sight of a man’s destruction.

Mike sent up wordless prayers, half-formed hopes for the man’s soul and supplication that the other missing person—the woman—

hadn’t met the same fate. He’d gotten the impression that it was the missing girl whom Naomi held close to her heart. But a look around the area revealed nothing to suggest a woman had died there.

Reluctantly Mike eased Naomi from his arms. They needed to fetch the others and form a new plan. He cleared his throat to say as much but found it unnecessary when the others came storming into view. From their fast pace and the looks on their faces, concern for Naomi had won out over irritation at the delay—but barely. And as they saw her standing there, evidently unharmed, they slowed.

“He’s dead.” Naomi’s announcement brought them to a stop.

Granger’s woman started shaking her head. “We don’t know that, Naomi. Now’s not the time to become hysterical and lose faith—we might still nd both of them safe and sound and waiting for us.”

“She said he, not they. ” Mike gestured toward the crushing boulder and defended Naomi as best he could. “She’s far from hysterical—though she has every right after what she found.”

By the time he nished his sentence, Granger reached the boulder

—and its victim. Other than an audible swallow, he kept calm and collected. “Ladies, hold o . There’s no sign of Lacey, and no one should see this unless there’s a darn good reason.”

It looked like the young one wouldn’t follow his instruction, but Granger’s woman caught her arm and held her back. After some furious whispering, the young one decided to hold her piece. But Mike was inclined to attribute her change of heart to Naomi, who’d started up the trail to wait with the women. When she reached the others, they engulfed her in embraces and reassurances, all the while casting fearful looks toward the boulder below.

Now that Naomi was in good hands and out of harm’s way, Mike returned his attention to Granger. The other man bent down for a closer look at the corpse. A puzzled frown creased his face, letting Mike know something was wrong beyond the obvious. But what?

“Let’s hear it.” Mike hunkered down and waited. Whatever Granger was thinking, it looked like he’d need a sounding board.

“Dunstan—the man who went to explore the mines—is a hunter.

A mountain guide.” Granger gestured toward the corpse’s boots.

Even coated in dirt and rocks, they had a stacked heel and rigid sti ness. “I’ve never known him to wear anything but leather boots worn so soft even a deer couldn’t hear him move through the forest.”

Mike swiftly realized what Granger was trying to say. “You’re thinking this isn’t our guy.” He waited for a curt nod of agreement before taking it to the next logical step. “Do you know him?”

“Hard to say.” A moment later Granger quit musing. He narrowed his eyes and considered a small lump in the dirt around the vicinity

where the man’s head should be. “What’s that?”

It turned out to be part of a pair of spectacles, broken at the nose and the lens shattered within a thin gold rim. Granger palmed the piece, gave those boots a considering glance, and shook his head.

Whatever he was puzzling over, it must not add up.

“You know him.” Mike didn’t press, but spectacles weren’t a common item in a mining camp. Or a sawmill for that matter.

Granger nodded. “Only two men in town wear glasses, and Cora just sent one of them o to fetch the axmen.” He used the spectacles to gesture toward the corpse. “That leaves the telegraph operator, Draxley. But for the life of me, I can’t gure out why a man scared of his own shadow would be strolling around up here.”

Mike saw that the wolfhound had tracked them and was now circling around the women, whining loudly and butting his head against their skirts in an attempt to herd them back to the mines.

For all that the others trusted the dog, and it seemed well trained and admirably determined to rescue its owner, Mike didn’t like the situation. He straightened up and started toward the women.

“Maybe Dunstan and the missing girl have the answer.”

When the men nally joined them, none of the women could nd words to ask about the body below. Naomi knew because she tried and failed to form a question. Part of her didn’t want to know any details beyond the horrible sight already emblazoned on her mind.

But the larger part needed to know something—anything—about what was going on. Maybe there was some clue to help nd Lacey.

“Well?” For the rst time, Naomi understood the appeal of one-word sentences. They moved fast and left no room for anxieties.

“It’s Draxley.” Granger didn’t mince words, just pulled out the broken spectacles as evidence. “Or a stranger new to town.”

Naomi sagged in relief—if she hadn’t been holding on to Cora and Evie, she might have humiliated herself by sliding straight down to

the ground. But shame swiftly chased away any relief. A man is dead, Naomi chastised herself, noticing that the other women looked as guilty as she felt. They, too, must have welcomed the news that the crushed corpse wasn’t Dunstan, who should be protecting Lacey.

“Lawson’s ne, so I think it must be Draxley.” Cora came to her senses rst. “No one new’s come to town since Dunstan.” She slid a glance toward Mr. Strode, the newcomer, and faltered. “Until today.

But no other glasses.”

Decoy butted his head against Naomi’s skirts and issued a pleading whine. The gesture inspired Naomi’s gratitude. Once they’d established it was (most likely) Draxley beneath the boulder, her thoughts turned right back to Dunstan and Lacey. But she couldn’t see any graceful way to pull attention away from a dead man.

So when the dog prodded them back toward the caves, Naomi tugged her bandana back over her nose and mouth and made haste up the mountainside. Peripherally, she was aware when Cora spoke brie y with Evie and turned back toward town, but she didn’t catch the reasoning behind it. Nor could she work up any curiosity.

As the entrance to the mine came into sight—or rather, what had been an entrance less than half an hour ago—fear spiked higher than ever. Dust hung heavy in the air, but even if it were clear as a mountain stream, Naomi would have had di culty drawing breath.

Where there used to be a tunnel, a heap of stone and earth cascaded from higher up the mountain all the way to the ground. The debris mounded high enough Naomi couldn’t tell whether it had merely sealed o the mine or if the mine utterly caved in upon itself.

The sides of his chest heaving like bellows, Decoy leaped atop a medium-sized boulder and began frantically clawing into the gravel and dirt sealing it in place. Naomi rushed up beside him, scu ng her leather gloves as she grabbed smaller stones and heaved them out of the way. She heard Evie come alongside, helping with a too-heavy stone, while the men set to work on the other side of Decoy.

“Lacey!” Her shriek bounced around mountain rock, shrill echoes obliterating any chance of hearing a response from within. Naomi bit her lip and dug in with even more fury than before. Where were the men? If anyone should be coming to help rescue Lacey, it was all the lumberjacks she’d brought here by writing that blasted ad.

It felt as though hours passed before a dull thudding preceded the woodsmen. Using chisels and ax handles, pickaxes and shovels, they attacked the shifting mass of rubble with a vengeance. More than once Naomi fought silly little battles with men trying to dislodge her from her post. Her sharp elbows rewarded a few who reached for her arms. One unfortunate soul who misguidedly tried to grab her waist discovered just how sturdy her boots were. And, as occupied as she was, Naomi found herself slightly disgruntled that no one tried to move Evie or even Decoy from their stations.

Although, she conceded, every man here knows they’ll lose whatever hand they put on Jake Granger’s ancée, so Evie won’t be bothered. As for Decoy … Naomi wouldn’t try her hand at ousting the wolfhound from his digging site. The dog dug like a … well, a beast.

In some distant, practical portion of her mind, Naomi knew the burly lumberjacks only wanted to help Lacey and Dunstan. Even worse, she acknowledged that their methodical use of strength and leverage would move things along faster than her frantic scurries.

But ceding her spot would feel like giving up on Lacey, and Naomi knew she’d cling to these stones like a barnacle until they found her cousin. Besides, the rhythm of scraping and digging, pushing and pulling, shoving and dislodging small pieces of the mountainside was the only thing drowning out her frantic worries.

Time scraped by, measured in stfuls and shovels of dirt and a steadily growing pile of stones and boulders pushed away from the entrance of the mine. Eventually the thick grit of dirt and stone dust became a natural part of breathing. Naomi kept scrabbling at the stone separating her from her cousin, eyeing the progress they made. At what point should she shout again? Had they made

enough headway for Lacey and Dunstan to hear voices through the blockage?

How could she keep on if she called and Lacey didn’t answer?

“Lacey!” Apparently having waged the same battle with herself, Evie called out before Naomi could bring herself to try again. At the sound of her voice, everything ground to a halt, waiting for a response as she called again. “Dunstan! Are you in there?”

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