The Daredevil Snared (The Adventurers Quartet Book 3) (27 page)

Minutes later, she saw a group of men emerge, carrying the last lantern, now almost out. Among those men walked Caleb, along with Dixon and Lascelle.

The men headed for their hut. Although she didn’t move, did nothing to attract his attention, Caleb raised his head, looked across the compound, and saw her.

With a word, he parted from Dixon and Lascelle and came toward her. Intent invested his every stride.

She met him at the bottom of the steps.

His features set, he caught her hand and, without breaking his stride, towed her on—around the side of the women’s hut and into the deeper shadows there.

Abruptly, he halted, spun her so her back met the wall, stepped into her, bent his head, and crushed his lips to hers.

His kiss was an explosion of heat and passion.

She parted her lips and drowned in the flames, in the raw, elemental tempest of desire he unleashed upon her.

And that she instantly, in the next heartbeat, gave back to him.

She caught his head, trapped his face between her palms, poured all he evoked in her back into the exchange—and hung on for dear life.

Like a spark set to the tinder of their passions, the kiss ignited a conflagration of need, of want, of desperate desire, and sent it raging through them.

On a groan, he straightened. His arms came around her, and he crushed her to him.

Need—raw need—reached her.

Without hesitation, she gave him all she had. She melded her lips with his, sent her tongue surging to tangle with his. She released his face, wound her arms around his neck, pressed herself to him, and together they rode the surging wave of unadulterated, well-nigh desperate wanting.

Hunger drove him and, beneath that, a yearning.

Both registered on her whirling wits, informed her giddy senses.

And she realized she was his anchor in this storm. Some cataclysm had flung him adrift, and he needed her to ground him.

She steadied. Stood steady within the maelstrom of their joint passions.

Gradually, the firestorm abated.

And eventually, the kiss became one of simple connection.

Of communication, although she still had no clue as to what had so affected him.

Finally, he raised his head, and their lips parted. His chest swelled as, eyes closed, he drew in a massive, steadying breath.

She gripped his upper arms and searched his face. “Caleb? What’s happened?”

Eyes still closed, his long black lashes casting crescent shadows on his cheeks, he lowered his forehead to hers, then exhaled. “It’s bad, Kate.”

He drew in another breath and went on, “We got Dixon into the lower level. It’s not yet properly shored up, and it’s hellishly dangerous, but he was so determined to find out, he went in and...well, he says he can’t be certain, but I think he just doesn’t want to believe what he saw.”

“It’s not good.” She made it a statement, which clearly it was.

He straightened and opened his eyes. “We don’t yet know how bad it is, but from Dixon’s reaction, it’s nothing like what he expected—nothing like what we need.” He paused. “We’ll know for certain tomorrow. We have to do more shoring up, and then he’ll be able to examine the entire rock face properly.”

“So it’s possible he missed something?”

“Possible, but not likely. When it comes to mining, Dixon knows what he’s doing—he doesn’t make that sort of mistake.”

It was the first time she’d heard him sound even vaguely despondent. The realization that he was cast down hit her like a slap. She stared at him, tried to study his face, his eyes, shadowed though they were. “We will find a way through this—you know we will.” She hesitated, then added, “It’s usually you who encourages and buoys everyone else.”

And the entire company of captives would fall into a funk if he didn’t do the same this time.

His lips twisted in a wry and distinctly self-deprecating smile. “Don’t worry. By tomorrow, I’ll have come around and will be my usual irrepressibly positive self again.”

But he wasn’t his usual indefatigably confident self now, and he’d come to her for comfort, for support.

She felt her heart squeeze. She released his arms and ran her hands down to grasp and grip his hands. “We
will
come about.”

He sighed. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” More quietly, he said, “But sometimes even I find myself asking Fate: What is it going to take?”

* * *

The bad news started to filter through the ranks of the captives in midafternoon.

During the usual brief midday break, Dixon, Caleb, Lascelle, Hillsythe, Fanshawe, and Hopkins, along with the carpenters and several of the men assisting with the work in the farther reaches of the second tunnel, had been notable by their absence. Anxious glances had been cast toward the mine, and by the time Kate, with Annie, went out to check through the children’s daily discards, rumors abounded.

One of the girls, Heather, fixed her gaze on Kate’s face. “Do you know if it’s true, miss?”

Kate hesitated, but she couldn’t not answer. “I’m not sure—I haven’t heard. Until Captain Dixon tells us what he’s found, none of us really know.” She managed a smile. “Best not to worry until we know we have cause.”

Isolated in the cleaning shed, until then, none of the women had heard the rumors. While she and Annie were with the children, Kate noticed Caleb and Lascelle going into the cleaning shed; despite the setback in the mine, apparently the men hadn’t forgotten about tacking the canvas pockets beneath the women’s stools.

Later, as she and Annie walked back to the shed, Annie murmured, “That was good advice you gave, about not worrying. Not that it’s going to stop anyone doing it.” She glanced toward the mine. “I just hope they tell us straight and don’t think to keep it to themselves.”

Kate could only agree.

When evening fell and they all gathered about the fire pit, the mood was subdued. And that was before Dixon made any report. Just one look at the men’s faces—so many grim and strained—was enough to tell everyone that the situation had lurched toward the dire.

Finally, once the meal had been consumed and the plates ferried back to the kitchen and washed and stacked, and everyone was back around the fire pit, Caleb, not Dixon, who was seated alongside him, stirred—instantly attracting everyone’s attention.

Once he was assured of that, Caleb said, “We finally completed shoring up the lower level of the second tunnel, and Captain Dixon and several of the rest of us have crawled down and inspected the rock face—essentially the continuation of the pipe of diamonds we’re mining on the upper level.”

He spoke calmly, factually, with no hint of dismay or desperation detectable in his tone. “As you all know, the deposit on the upper level is densely packed with diamonds. We’d hoped that deposit continued with the same density of stones on the lower level.” He looked around the circle, scanning all the faces. “Sadly, that hope has not been borne out. For some geological reason, the diamonds in that pipe have been pushed into the section on the upper level. Overall, the number of diamonds in the second deposit is likely similar to what was in the first, but almost all the stones are in the rock face we’ve already exposed along the upper level, making them readily accessible.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, “The reality is that there are very few diamonds in the lower level of the second deposit.”

Again, he paused. Seated tonight with the women and several logs from him, across the fire pit, Kate met his gaze.

For a moment, he returned her regard, then his gaze passed on. “The most important—indeed, crucial—aspect of this situation that we all must strive not to forget is that while
we
now know that this is the reality, Dubois and his men do not.”

Kate heard the compelling steel in his voice as his tone changed from informative to commanding. When they spoke around the fire pit, they all kept their voices down; the guards weren’t close, but strong voices might carry. So Caleb was speaking quietly, yet he still managed to fix the attention of every man, woman, and child about the circle.

“We have not reached a point of surrender—a time when there’s no more hope. Not yet. We can still come about, and we will. But the first thing we all must remember is to say and do nothing that might bring on one of Dubois’s inspections of the mine.”

Caleb paused to let everyone absorb what he was saying, then went on, “He came into the second tunnel six days ago. If he follows what I’ve been told is his usual pattern, he won’t come into the mine again for at least the next four days. We’re going to use that time to plan our way forward. Meanwhile, the stockpile in the mine is growing, and we’ve taken steps to start another in the cleaning shed.” He looked at the children. “Tomorrow, Mr. Hillsythe, Lieutenant Hopkins, and Miss Katherine will come and talk to you children about setting up another type of stockpile among your piles. We need you to be extra careful, but we need you to be a part of this, too. We’ll each have our roles to play”—the quality of his voice changed, effortlessly capturing them all—“and if we all pull together, we’ll still be here when the rescue force arrives.”

He paused, then went on, quieter, somehow calmer, “That’s what our goal is, and we—each of us—need to never take our eyes from it.” He looked around the circle, meeting everyone’s eyes fleetingly but with intent, including every person. “We can do this, and we will. Remember that.”

Kate felt emotion well up—pride, and something finer. She could feel a tide of dogged commitment rising in all those around the circle. He’d used his gift and turned that tide from despair, not to hope—not yet—but to resolution.

He’d given them what they needed.

He turned to speak with Dixon, who looked a trifle less grim. Gradually, the usual groups formed, talking quietly. Then the women rose, gathered the children, and shepherded them off to their hut and their hammocks.

Kate lingered by the pit. She circled to come up beside Caleb; he was speaking with Hillsythe. She rested her hand on his shoulder. Without glancing at her, he reached up and closed his hand over hers, holding it there.

Then Hillsythe nodded and turned to speak with Fanshawe, and Caleb lifted her hand, rose, swung around, and stepped over the log on which he’d been sitting.

She met his gaze. “From all of us, thank you.”

His self-deprecating grin flashed. “No need. It’s my role—it’s what I do.”

“No. It’s what you are—who you are.” And without him, they—Dubois’s captives—would have fallen apart. If he hadn’t come, if he hadn’t been captured, where would they have been?

About him, men were getting to their feet and heading into the mine for the evening shift. He glanced at them, then looked back at her. “I have to go.”

“I know.” She held his gaze. “Come to me later. I’ll wait up.”

His trademark charming smile curved his lips. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “All right. I will.”

She tipped her head to the mine. “Go.”

He released her and did.

Kate turned away. She didn’t look back but walked slowly across the darkened compound toward the women’s hut.

* * *

At midnight, Caleb left the mine with the other men who had worked the last shift—one group mining the diamond-bearing ore in a short section of the second tunnel as slowly as they could, while another gang had broken useless rock at the far end of the first tunnel.

He didn’t head to the men’s hut with the others but strode across the compound, his gaze on the slender figure seated on the porch of the women and children’s hut.

She rose as he neared and, as she had the night before, met him at the base of the steps.

Tonight, however, she walked openly into his arms, and they shared a much more tender kiss.

Then she drew back, wound her arm in his, and, without a word, started them strolling counterclockwise around the compound, just as they so often had.

Bemused, he shook his head. How had she known that this was exactly what he needed? This simple reminder that she was there, waiting to embark on a future with him. The promise of gentleness in his life, of hope and succor—the sort of succor a man like him needed.

Tonight...the situation was so fraught, the tension so high, he couldn’t focus on anything else and wouldn’t trust himself to properly handle any other intense interaction.

But he’d needed this.

Her silent company, her unstated support, and the quiet, soothing cloak of her love.

Did she love him?

He rather thought she did. He certainly hoped she did, for he most definitely loved her.

But all that was for later, as they’d agreed. Now...

He sighed. Then softly said, “I have to go back.”

She didn’t look up at him but continued facing forward as they strolled. “Into the mine?”

“Yes. We need to plan.”

They’d circled the barracks and drew level with the mine entrance. She glanced that way, saw no light shining, and frowned.

“We’ve doused all the lanterns. The others will be waiting not far inside.”

She went to draw her arm from his, but he tightened his hold and kept her with him. “I’ll walk you back to your hut.”

He heard the wry amusement in her voice as she asked, “Is that you being gallant or not wanting the guards to notice you leaving me walking alone?”

He pondered for a moment, then asked, “Can’t it be both?”

At that, she laughed.

The sound remained with him, echoing in his heart as, after seeing her into the women’s hut, he walked back to the men’s hut, then slipped into the shadows and followed them into the mine.

He came upon Jed Mathers and one of the other men just inside the mine entrance.

“We’re keeping watch,” Jed murmured. “Just in case any of the guards happen to wander in.”

Caleb nodded. He clapped Jed on the shoulder and continued on, stepping carefully in the gloom.

He was used to the weight of command, but he’d never taken on such a heavy burden before. Shouldering responsibility for men was something he was accustomed to, but having women and children involved added several more layers, and weightier layers at that, to the load.