Indigo Blue (47 page)

“Sonny, do you think?” Jeremy asked.

Jake gave himself a hard mental shake. He cast around for the pup, only just now missing him. He had evidently followed Indigo. “Sonny’s too young to howl like that,” he said hoarsely.

Jake turned back to scan the darkness, trying to place the call. The pain in his head was forgotten now. The howl came again, long and forlorn. Another unearthly chill crept over him. It was Lobo’s death howl—exactly like it. The call was engraved in his memory, every note a heartbreak he would never forget. As the cry died away, Jake whispered, “Jeremy, that’s Lobo.”

“I thought Lobo got shot.”

Jake stared at the black silhouette of the mountain and strained to speak. “He was shot. He’s—dead.”

Jeremy leaned against his horse and peered through the darkness. “That hit on the head rattled you good.”

The howl rose again. Jake waved Jeremy to silence and homed in on it. “He’s up at the mine,” he said shakily. “That’s Lobo, Jeremy. I’d know his call anywhere.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Jeremy gave a low laugh. “What in hell are you thinking, Jake? And where do you think you’re going?”

Jake circled around to Buck’s left flank and swung into the saddle. “I’m going up there. What do you think? That’s Lobo, I tell you.”

Jeremy scrambled to mount his horse. He rode abreast of Jake. “You’re crazy. Would you stop and listen to some sense?”

Jake kept riding.

“Your wife’s out in the woods somewhere,” Jeremy yelled. “And what the hell are you doing? Instead of tracking her, you’re chasing after wolf howls? Goddammit, Jake. Pull up. You’re not thinking straight. It must be the blow to the head. Listen to me, dammit!”

Jake was listening to another wolf howl rising in the night. He couldn’t explain himself to Jeremy. He couldn’t sort his feelings and make sense of them himself. All he knew was that something deep inside him, where reason couldn’t reach, told him that wolf cry came from Lobo. He believed that so strongly that he was willing to bet Indigo’s life on it.

 

The icy, damp air had grown thin. Indigo’s eyes burned from staring into the blackness. Shuddering, she drew a shallow breath and finished the last refrain of her death song. “
Nei, Indigo, habbe we-ich-ket
, I, Indigo, am seeking death.”

Silence. She could hear only the sound of her breathing. Soon, she wouldn’t have enough breath to sing her father’s songs or say her mother’s prayers, and she would die buried in the awful silence. She tried to fight back the panic.

“Ja-aa-ke!” she screamed, giving way to the terror. “Jake!”

His name echoed around her, then died away. She knew he would move heaven and earth to save her. Trust. Complete trust. It had been so long in coming.

Jake. . . . Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she sobbed. Faced with death and blinded by blackness, she could finally see with clarity. The differences in their two worlds weren’t so gargantuan. Now, all the things she had feared beckoned to her like the promise of heaven. To go away with Jake to the world beyond the mountains. Oh, yes. . . . If only she could have that chance. With him beside her, what was there to fear?

She pictured him kneeling before her, his hair glinting blue-black in the moonlight as he bent low to kiss her feet. This last week, she had bridled constantly because he had forbidden her to come near the mines. She had feared his arrogant refusal was a prelude of things to come, that he would forbid her to do other equally important things and make her life a misery. She had resented the way his touch could make her burn with longing for him. And why? Because it was symbolic of his control over her. Even surrounded by his love, she had clung to the old fear of becoming a white man’s chattel.

Jake’s chattel. Here in the blackness, Indigo could take her fear of that out and examine it. Jake’s possession, his slave, his squaw? Oh, yes. . . . She’d be those things forever, if only she had the chance.

Was he even alive? She prayed he was, and then she prayed that God would somehow find a way to spare her as well. Just one more chance to set things right between them, that was all she asked. Maybe Jake would keep her confined to home and hearth, mothering his children. But would that be such a horrible fate? He was good and kind and thoughtful in every other way. Even if he took her away from Wolf’s Landing to a world where she would be an outcast, at least she’d be with him. He was all she needed in her world, anyway. . . .

 

It was full daylight by the time Jake drew Buck to a halt near the entrance to the mine. He swung slowly out of the saddle and scanned the surrounding hillsides for a wraith of silver and black. Lobo. His throat tightened as he moved toward the gaping black hole of the tunnel. Jeremy rode up and leaped from his horse.

“Well, we’re here, and there’s no goddam wolf,” he said. “Can we go back down now and follow the tracks?”

“Shut up, Jeremy. Go back if you want, but if you’re staying with me, shut the hell up.”

Jake bent to grab a lantern. He quickly lit it and held it high, stepping to the yawning black entrance. Fear pounded through his body. He half expected to see Indigo lying dead before him. Instead, he spied gleaming, golden eyes. His pulse quickened. Then a shrill howl echoed out at him.

“Sonny,” he said with a tremulous laugh. “Hey, fella.”

Clearly spooked, Jeremy laughed, too, the sound shrill and shaky. “Well, that explains our wolf howl. Inside the tunnel like that, the echo made him sound louder than normal.”

Jake no longer cared who had done the howling. “Jeremy, if Sonny’s here, I know Indigo is.”

Without waiting for a response from his brother, Jake held up the lantern and hurried into the mine. A deathly cold closed around him.

 

Drifting . . . drifting in blackness. Indigo fought against the feeling, but it felt so comforting to succumb to it, to feel apart from her frozen body. Words jumbled in her head. Her mother’s prayers, her father’s songs. A heavy numbness had crept over her. Her aching lungs drew breath shallowly, the pace fast and frantic.

“Our Father—blessed is the fruit of thy womb—heartily sorry . . .”

The words spilled ceaselessly from her lips, her only comfort, the only weapon she had to fight off the panic. Indigo Rand. Rand, Rand, Rand. She closed her eyes on frightened tears. So afraid. She didn’t want to die alone, a speck of nothingness in utter blackness. A speck that was being absorbed and becoming smaller and smaller. A tiny spinning speck. She pictured Jake’s face. In her swimming mind, he seemed so real, so close. She imagined his arms closing around her, strong and warm. . . .

And then Lobo. His wet tongue touched her cheek. Ah, yes, Lobo, her good friend. He gave a low, mournful howl that rose around her and cascaded from the ceiling in rippling echoes. Lobo, her loyal wolf. She had remained beside him to sing his death song, and now he had come to sing hers. She wasn’t alone after all.

“Lobo,” she whispered.

He whined and licked her face again. Then he lay down beside her. So real, so real. Indigo longed for her arms to be free so she could wrap them around his thickly furred neck, as she had in life. Instead, she settled for pressing her cheek against his fur. His warmth seeped into her and surrounded her. Her tears trickled through his ruff.

Lobo. . . .

 

“Oh, sweet Jesus, no . . .” Jake stood frozen and stared at the collapsed section of the drift, his heart slamming with a fear so cold it turned his blood to ice. From out of the rubble trailed two ropes. He took one look and knew what had happened. He set down the lantern, panic seizing him. “Jesus, Jeremy, she’s in there.”

Jeremy came up behind Jake. “You don’t know that, Jake. The thing to do here is try to stay calm.”

Jeremy no sooner spoke than Sonny bypassed Jake and scratched frenziedly at the wall of dirt. Jake swore and started throwing rock. “Brandon Marshall! Jesus Christ! It was him all along. I should have watched over her every second. The bastard buried her in here!”

Jeremy caught Jake’s arm. “We need shovels. Jake, for God’s sake, get a hold on yourself. You can’t dig her out with your bare hands.”

Jake jerked his arm from Jeremy’s grasp and proceeded to do just that. He tore at the dirt and rock like a wild man, swearing, praying, sobbing.

“She may be—”

Jake whirled. “Go get me a goddam shovel!”

Jeremy retreated a step, frightened by the crazy look in his brother’s eyes.

 

Four hours later, Jake dug through the last barrier of dirt with bloody hands. The opening he and Jeremy had tunneled was narrow, and too much movement might cause it to collapse. Jake knelt before it and stared through at the pit of blackness beyond, more terrified than he had ever been in his life.

“Indigo?”

Silence bounced back at him. He shot Jeremy a tortured glance. “I’m going in.”

Jeremy grasped his shoulder.

Both men knew that Jake could easily be buried alive if the earth shifted. Jeremy would never be able to dig him out in time. Jake met his brother’s gaze. For once, words weren’t necessary. Some emotions couldn’t be expressed, and even Jeremy was reduced to speechlessness.

Jake turned back to the opening and carefully started through. At this point, he had become so afraid he could no longer feel. Death held no threat. Living without Indigo was what terrified him.

An awful airlessness hit Jake’s face as he gained the other end of the makeshift opening. He fell into bottomless blackness. His lungs immediately convulsed and grabbed frantically for oxygen. He knew then. . . . He knew but he couldn’t turn loose of that last bit of hope.

Groping in the blackness, he found her. So small and cold. Air, he had to get her out into the air. He crawled with her toward the shaft of dim light. When he reached it, he called through to Jeremy.

“I’ve got her, Jer. I’ve got her. I’m going to hand her through to you. Grab her shoulders and pull her on out.”

Carefully, oh so carefully, Jake shoved her toward the light. Jeremy crawled forward to catch her by the shoulders. From there on, Jake could only watch and pray that Jeremy got her through before the earth collapsed. To the light. Surely God would grant him that. If not for Jake, for Indigo, a girl made of moonbeams and wind songs. She didn’t belong in blackness.

When Jeremy pulled her through, Jake nearly cried with relief. Safe, she was safe. Struggling to fill his lungs with the air that wafted through the opening, Jake fought off a wave of dizziness brought on by lack of oxygen. Then he started through himself, hand over hand, a foot at a time. Toward the light and Indigo. When he crawled free, he slid down the other side in a shower of collapsing earth. An instant later, the tunnel he and Jeremy had clawed in the earth closed its jaws behind him. It was a miracle they had both gotten out in time. A miracle. God had given him another miracle.

Jake staggered to his feet, filled with leg-trembling joy. He turned and saw Jeremy standing between him and the huddled form of his wife. From the way Jeremy stood, his legs braced wide apart, Jake knew. But his mind couldn’t accept.

“Jake.” Jeremy’s voice shook, and a horrible expression came into his eyes. “Oh, God, Jake, I’m sorry.”

A shudder ran through Jake’s body. He stood there a moment, staring at his brother’s stricken face. Then he moved his gaze to the lifeless body behind him. “No . . .” The word hit the air in tremulous denial. “No . . .”

With battered, shaking hands, he touched her cheek, then her neck, searching the cold, lifeless flesh for any sign of a pulse.

“Jake, she isn’t breathing,” Jeremy whispered. “I know you see that.”

Not breathing. Lying her across his thighs, Jake cupped her face between his bloody hands and touched his lips to hers. He’d make her breathe, goddammit. He sucked in air and forced it from his lungs into her mouth. It stopped at the back of her throat. He tipped her head back and forced her teeth apart.

“Breathe, Indigo. Do you hear me? Breathe, dammit!”

He forced another breath into her body. And another.

“Jake, for God’s sake.” Jeremy turned away with a broken cry. “Get ahold of yourself. Please.”

Jake came up for air and shot his brother a wild-eyed glare. “Pray, goddam you! Don’t stand there doing nothing! Pray!” Turning back to Indigo, he pressed his hands frantically to the sides of her face. “Breathe, Indigo. Do you hear me? Breathe, damn you! You’ve done every other thing I ever asked of you. I’m telling you to breathe. Do you hear me? I’m your husband, and I’m telling you to breathe.”

When she didn’t respond, he started to weep. “I love you. You can’t die. I didn’t give you permission to die, goddammit!”

For several minutes more, Jake shared his breath with her. He knew it wasn’t enough. In the back of his mind, he knew it wasn’t enough. He wanted to give her his beating heart. He wanted to pour his pulsing blood into her. He wanted to give her his warmth. He would have gladly died in her place and given her his very life. But that wasn’t the way of things. And sharing his breath with her simply was not enough.

 

In the blackness, there was a tiny tunnel of light. Someone spoke to her from there. The voice was rich and warm and wonderful, yet strangely sad. The words drifted to her, scarcely more than whispers at times, then deep and resounding, all repeated in echoes.

I love you
, the voice said. The words curled around her, warm and sweet.
I don’t think I ever told you how much.
Warm hands moved over her. Strong arms held her close. A ragged sob shuddered through her. She drifted closer to the voice. It spoke to her about moonlight and Lobo, of yellow-and-white daisies, of songs in the wind and wild creatures eating from her hands. It sounded wonderful, like heaven.
I know that’s where you are. Off somewhere, floating on moonbeams.

Indigo frowned and tried to lift her eyelashes. She wasn’t in a field of daisies. She felt cold, horribly cold. Jake. . . . She tried to reach for him. He was crying. Not silent tears, but great, wracking sobs that shook his whole body. She had to comfort him. But she couldn’t find him. He was close, very close, somewhere in the blackness. She moved toward the light. Yes, that was where he was, beyond her reach in the tunnel of light.