Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers) (26 page)

Chapter 25

Arthur had given up his watch post in favor of his bed in the corner, but even in sleep, he listened. The thump of his tail on the floor alerted Rachel to McCall’s presence in the yard and she rose with the big dog to greet him. Checking the watch pinned to her bodice, she was stunned at the time. The lights had gone out and she’d been encased in her own little world of lamplight at the table. With her nose stuck in a book, hours had passed without notice.

She was at the door when he opened it, ready to take his wet Fish to the bath, but instead of a dripping coat, McCall was barely dressed at all. He wore only a pair of jeans and those were soaked through. His hair hung in wet strings, sending rivulets of water down his face and neck
and onto his bare chest.

“Let me get you a towel.”

“Don’t bother. I’m going back out. I need rope. If you don’t have any, I’ll go wake Achilles.”

“What happened?”

“Your damned schoolteacher fell down a hole, that’s what happened. I need a rope to get him out.”

“Where?
How? Is he all right?”

“He’s alive, but he can hear water running and he’s afraid it’s going to flood.
The walls are crumbling. He can’t climb out. I need rope and I need it now.”

“In the shed.”
He was gone before she could say anything else. She followed him.

McCall grabbed the rope from its peg on the wall and started coiling it tighter. “I can go faster on four legs than two.
Drop the rope around my neck.” He stopped and stared at her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Her skirt dropped to the floor and she
started on the long row of buttons down her front. “Going with you. Undo my stays.” Shirt followed skirt.

“You can’t. It’s dangerous.”

“If he’s hurt, you’ll need help getting him out and getting him home. Now stop your nonsense and untie the string of my corset.” This last was muffled under the corset cover rising over her head.

“This wasn’t quite how I pictured it,” he muttered, but she felt her stays loosen as he ran his fingers up the lacing.

He’d barely pulled it over her head before she was shimmying out of her underdress and rolling down her stockings. Rachel gathered everything into a bundle and dumped it on the bed pushed up against the opposite wall.

“Eustace is going to get a shock if he comes home and finds h
is bed full of corset and cotton,” she said.

“I think Eustace has found another bed. Haven’t you noticed he hasn’t slept here
in days? Ready?”

At her nod, McCall bowed his head, light flashed
and the silver wolf formed. He nodded again and Rachel placed the coiled rope about his neck. She opened the door and then let the picture of her wolf form in her mind. Unlike her human counterpart, the she–wolf was thrilled to be chasing McCall through the storm.

They skirted around the schoolhouse and headed in a direction west of where they’d run before. Lightening flashed and the wolf flinched, but didn’t slow her pace. Thunder rolled and rain pelted her face, but these were of little consequence to the she-wolf.
She was free and running.

She’d been here before. Vague memories of her surroundings flitted through her mind. The images were connected with the sting of a switch against her legs, punishment for sneaking off to play in places that were forbidden.

“
Bad place. Bad place. Bad place
,” pounded through the she-wolf’s mind. She put on speed to catch up with McCall. Running side by side, she nudged her shoulder into his in an attempt to turn him aside. “
Bad Place. Bad place
.” When he didn’t listen, she hit him again, harder.

Her reward was a snarl
from the silver wolf. “
Go home
.”

Jeesh
! It was only a warning.

She glanced behind at the wolf mix following behind that Rachel called Arthur. There was something about him that wasn’t right. She chuffed in exasperation and attempted to ask.

“
Part wolf. Part dog. Part…?”

Another snarl
. “Watch, listen, bad place.”

Rachelwolf snarled right back.
“
Told you
.”

She didn’t argue further because Challengerwolf slowed to a stop and raised his snout. The heavy rain had smeared the scent of his trail, making it difficult to follow, but both the she-wolf and Rachel knew this place and seeing his indecision, took the lead. She nudged him in the direction he should go and trotted forward a few steps.

“
Follow. Bad place
.”

She trott
ed off with the dog at her tail, pleased when the silver wolf didn’t argue. It wasn’t far and the chuff behind her told her she’d chosen the right place. McCall shifted to his human form and Rachel followed suit. He immediately pushed her inside.

“How did you know about, what did you call it?
The bad place.”

When she was a cub, the entrance to the mine was boarded over with a sign that read, Danger: Keep Out. The sign hadn’t stopped them from
ripping the rotting boards away and exploring until their parents found out. The boards around it now looked new.

“Jeremy Hoffman discovered it. Actually his father, the Alpha
, did. Jeremy was always following his father around and playing spy. When we got caught, my mother cut a switch and whipped the fire out of my legs.” She laughed a little. “Or whipped the fire into them since they burned for a week. They let us run outside of town and play, but mines were off limits. There are dozens of test holes around here. This was the worst because of the pit. We should have brought a candle.”

“There are these modern things called flashlights, you know.”

“Did you bring one?”

“No.”

“Then your idea is no better than mine.”

“Smartass.”

“Better than an asshat,” she said primly and heard McCall snort.

They walked forward cautiously as their eyes adjusted
to the near blackness. Water ran in tiny rills along the floor touching their bare feet and moving away. Silt sifted down from the ceiling.

“At first I didn’t know what you were talking about, but the closer we got, the surer I became.”
She took a turning to the right and walked several yards.

“Rachel,” McCall warned in a whisper, but she’d already raised her hand to signal him to stop.

“John? John, can you hear me?” she called softly, afraid the sound might disturb something in the tunnel. She was terribly afraid of bats.

“Rachel? Good God, what has the big fool gone and done now?”

“The big fool has done nothing but bring a rope. The little fool insisted on coming along.” McCall uncoiled the rope.

“At least the little fool remembered where the mine was. You would have been searching for hours
. Men never ask for directions.”

There was a bark of laughter from the pit.

“How do you know?” McCall laughed. “You’ve never been outside of Gold Gulch.”

“I heard it from a tourist
, several of them in fact. John, are you hurt?” Rachel stood on her toes to see if she could detect the pit, but the faint light ended where they stood.

“My leg’s
scratched up and my ankle’s twisted, but not broken. If there’s enough rope, I’ll tie it around me. I’m afraid you’ll have to do more hauling than I’ll do climbing. The walls are mud and the water’s made it slick.”

Rachel
held out her hand for the end of the rope. “I’ll take it. If you fall in, I’ll never be able to haul you out.”

She thought McCall would argue, but he handed the rope over and only said, “Be careful.”

Crawling on hands and knees, inching her hands out toward the edge of the pit, she heard him snickering behind her.

“I don’t find this amusing Mr. McCall,” she hissed over her shoulder.

“You would if our positions were reversed.” His laugh was little more than a whisper and then lowered even more. “Then again, maybe not. I’m not the one wearing those drawers.”

The hand without the rope went to her rear. Her drawers were gaping. “Close your
eyes!”

“Why? It’s not like I haven’t…”

“Mr. McCall!”

“If you two could have this conversation later, it would be most appreciated,” Washington called from the pit. “This isn’t th
e most comfortable circumstance, you know.”

As soon as her outstretched fingers touched the edge, she drew back and tossed the rope over the side, keeping her weight well away. She remembered this pit
. It was so dark down there, she and Jeremy thought it might be bottomless, but they were only eight or nine and it was more to scare each other than real belief. Seeing how much rope was going over the side, she began to wonder…

“Got it!”

With a sigh of release, Rachel crawled backward until her bare feet touched McCall’s.

McCall groaned.
“Let’s get this show on the road, Johnny boy. You’re cutting into my time here, son.” McCall hauled on the rope and the edge of the pit began to crumble.

“Hold it. Hold it.”

“God damnit, how much do you weigh?”

Rachel stepped in front of McCall and began to pull the rope hand over hand
with him, her hands working between his. John Washington came over the edge, but they kept pulling together until he was lying flat on the dirt floor. She ran to the bloody tear in his pant leg. Like McCall, he was wearing jeans. His ankle was swollen and a deep gash ran up his leg.

“You sure know how to fuck up a night,” McCall told him while
he examined the leg.

“Next time, you go first,”
Washington grumbled.

“I said I would, but you had to be the explorer.”
He sat back on his haunches. “You’re a liar, too. This ain’t no scratch.”

“I didn’t want you to worry. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not going to be able to shift with the way you’re bleeding. We’ll have to walk you back. I‘ll be your crutch, but we’ve got to get some pressure on this wound.”

Washington dug in his pocket and pulled out a large green handkerchief. It was folded like a packet and he carefully emptied the contents into his palm before handing the handkerchief over to McCall. The contents went back into his pocket.

“Treasure,” he said, at McCall’s curious look.

McCall nodded as he tied the square of cotton around the wound. “Good, but not enough.” He looked over at Rachel and pointed to her chemise. “The undershirt will work.”

“Mr. McCall!”

McCall laughed at her shock.
John Washington took a more gentlemanly approach after he punched McCall in the shoulder.

“You can shift out of our sight, leaving the garment behind.”

“Oh. Oh! That makes sense,” she said to John and then glared at McCall. “You know what I’m thinking, don’t you?”

“She calls me an
asshat,” McCall told his friend in a confidential, but much too loud whisper.

“Why am I not surp
rised?” Washington’s laugh was cut short by a grunt of pain. Not to be deterred, he called, “He’s a bad influence, Rachel, but we should be patient. It’s not his fault he’s an asshat.”

Rachel was already around the corner, peeling the dirty chemise over her head.
“Hah! He deserved it,” she called as she tossed the cotton garment back as far as she could without showing herself. Then she called her wolf forward. It was easier each time she did it.

Waiting at the mine entrance with Arthur, who’d stood guard while they were inside, the she-wolf scanned the surrounding area. The heavy rain had passed, but moisture hung in the air
and the wind was still strong. Night creatures still skittered here and there, though not as many as would be out on a dry night. She scented no other wolves or humans.

McCall and Washington came out a short time later, McCall propping up the limping schoolmaster.

“Go home, Rachel. Take Dog with you,” McCall ordered. “And for God’s sake be careful. You see anyone, man or wolf, you avoid them. We’ll see you back at the hotel.” He pointed to her, but spoke to the dog. “Guard.”

Rachelwolf snorted her disapproval. She turned
away from him and flicked her tail with contempt, kicking up mud with her hind feet as if covering her droppings. Since when did a wolf need a dog for protection? McCall only laughed. She trotted off home with the dog beside her, leaving the laughing human/wolvers behind.

Once again, she was struck by the dog’s scent. “
Wolf? Dog? What?
” she asked without much hope. She sensed intelligence in the animal, more than true wolf, but far below wolver, yet she’d seen dog/wolf shift to something more.

The dog barked happily and trotted beside her. It could understand, but couldn’t talk back.
No wonder Challenger like him. Poor Arthur.