Indigo Blue (8 page)

“Would you like to see the sluices?” she asked.

“A sluice is a sluice. I’d rather see the collapsed shafts.”

Indigo hid her exasperation. Did he plan to run this mine or give it a eulogy?

When they reached the main entrance, she lit two lanterns, handed him one, and then led the way into the bowels of the mine. Forgoing the use of the skips, the small rail cars used to transport miners and equipment, she picked her way on foot alongside the rails so he could get a better look at everything. The cloying smell of cold, damp earth pressed in around them. Their voices echoed back at them. Indigo noticed that his shadow stretched longer than hers. Her uneasiness mounted. In the surrounding blackness, it was impossible to tell how quickly the daylight was running out, and he didn’t seem in any hurry.

“You can only see two of the collapsed shafts down here,” she explained.

“Is the air foul farther in?”

“We haven’t tunneled that deeply yet,” she called back. “And there are plenty of ventilation shafts.”

“Where did the third collapse occur?”

“In the other mine.”

“Where’s it located?”

“Over the hill from here, five, maybe six miles. Father had Chase stake a claim there, just in case this location played out. We’re obligated to do a certain amount of mining over there to hold the claim, but we haven’t the men to work it full-time.”

When they reached the accident site, he took his time examining the rubble that hadn’t as yet been hauled to ground level. In an attempt to ward off the cold, Indigo shifted her weight from one foot to the other. His interest in the debris bewildered her. She might have understood it if he’d seemed interested in how extensive the repairs were going to be. Instead, he was far more concerned with the fallen timbers and the general layout of the mine before the two cave-ins.

“Where did you plan to do the blasting?”

“Farther in. That part of the mine is collapsed now.”

He straightened. “I guess I’ve seen enough.”

He hadn’t seen anything thus far, anything that mattered, at any rate. How did he hope to be foreman for a crew when he didn’t know squat about the work in progress? She bit down on the question.

“I’d like to see that other tunnel,” he said.

“It’s too far to go there tonight. I have to get home.”

He held his lantern high and settled his gaze on her. With the light thrown across his chest and face, he seemed large and forbidding. And she felt exposed. The endless blackness behind her had icy fingers that curled around the nape of her neck.

“I’m sorry for taking so long.” His gaze shifted to her lips. “You must be freezing in that wet leather.”

A denial crawled up her throat, but she was too unsettled to voice it. Touching a hand to her shoulder, he walked by her and led the way out.

“Can we go over to the other site tomorrow afternoon?” His voice echoed back at her, each syllable overlapping, which made it sound as if he said each word three times.

“We aren’t working over there right now.”

“I’d still like to see it.”

“I can take you. But since we’re not digging there, it’ll be a waste of time.”

He swung around. The lantern light arced across her, then bounced onto the earthen walls. “I guess I’m not making much sense to you, am I? The reason I’m so curious about the cave-ins is that I want to know how they were caused. Forewarned is forearmed. I can’t stop further vandalism if I don’t know what to watch for. I think that takes precedence over all else.”

Blinded by the light, she squinted and averted her face. “We can’t afford a night watchman, if that’s your idea.”

He moved the lantern so it didn’t play in her eyes. “Neither can you afford to spend days doing repairs only to have another collapse shut you down.”

Indigo didn’t need him to tell her that. “Since the last collapse, I check the timbers every morning before we begin work. What more can I do?”

She thought she glimpsed a smile tugging at his mouth. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. Which is why I’m full of questions. I can see this isn’t the place to be asking them, though. It’s as cold as ice down here, and you’re shaking like a leaf.”

As he turned and continued walking, she fell in behind him and said, “Cold or not, I’d prefer you to go ahead now and ask any questions you have. My mother has enough to worry her.”

“I doubt that avoiding the subject is going to ease her mind. She knows the last cave- in was no accident. You’re working here. There’s probably not a minute she forgets that.”

“I’d still appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about it too much in front of her.”

At the entrance, he doused their lanterns and stared out at the twilight. Indigo stepped past him, relieved to be in the open once again. Aware of his gaze on her, she glanced back.

“It’s a heavy burden of worry for you to be carrying alone, isn’t it?” he asked.

She straightened her shoulders. “I’m not complaining.”

“No, I don’t imagine you are.” He stepped out into the gloaming. “If it’ll put your mind at ease, I’ll watch what I say while we’re at the house. In turn, I’d appreciate it if you’d search your mind for anything you might’ve forgotten to tell me. I need all the ammunition I can get.”

She didn’t miss the fact that he said
I
, not
we
. He was already taking over. As if to drive home the point, he led the way back down the mountain.

They hadn’t gone far when he closed his hand roughly on her wrist. With a violent jerk, he brought her reeling against his chest and clamped a steely arm around her. She tried to wriggle free, horrified when he drew his knife.

“Hold still,” he whispered urgently. “We’ve got company.”

Indigo froze and threw a glance over her shoulder to see what he meant. She could see perhaps fifty yards. Shadows turned to blackness beyond that point. Tree limbs swayed in the wind. Brush moved. He was startled by something—that was clear. She could feel his heart slamming.

For her part, she was relieved to know he’d grabbed her to protect her, and not for other reasons. Whatever it was that lurked in the woods, Indigo doubted it could frighten her as badly as Jake Rand just had. Earlier in the barn, she had sensed the untapped strength in him; now it was a reality. His body was padded with muscle and roped with tendon, all taut with tension. She felt surrounded by him and knew she hadn’t a prayer of extricating herself from his hold until he chose to release her.

“It’s a wolf,” he whispered. “The biggest I’ve ever seen.”

She tried to speak, but he was squeezing the breath out of her. The iron hardness of his thighs pressed against her. The heat of his body steamed through their wet garments.

“If I can draw him away from you, can you shinny up a tree?”

She worked a hand between them and shoved against his chest. “It’s my—friend. Lobo—my friend. He won’t hurt us.”

His embrace relaxed, but only slightly. “Your friend?”

She managed to drag in a breath. Standing so close, she realized that her head barely cleared his shoulder. She could see the underside of his jaw and the whisker follicles along his throat. The scent of him surrounded her, a pleasant blend of wet wool, clean sweat, and male muskiness. His hand, broad and long- fingered, curled over her ribs, warm even through the leather.

“Yes, my friend.” Even though his closeness unnerved her, she couldn’t help but smile at the incredulous expression on his face. “His name is Lobo.”

Jake sheathed his knife. She made the pronouncement as if everyone had wolves for friends, and she looked as if she was smothering a laugh. He felt like an idiot.

“Lobo,” he repeated. “Your friend. Why didn’t I guess?”

He glanced down and froze, still holding her fast. Her hat had been knocked off when he grabbed her. After trying to guess the color of her hair for most of the afternoon, he couldn’t help but stare. It was neither mahogany like her father’s nor a lighter brown, yet it wasn’t what he’d call blond either.
Tawny
was the only word that came to mind, its overall shade that of dark, rich honey with wispy streaks of coppery gold throughout. During their brief tussle, it had come loose from its moorings and tumbled to one shoulder, a straight, silken mass still half wound in a coronet and caught with hairpins.

Oddly enough, its light hue struck such a contrast to her dark complexion that it earmarked her as part Indian, whereas a darker color might not have. With that tawny hair and those incredibly light blue eyes, anyone who looked at her would know she hadn’t attained that skin tone from exposure to the sun.

Nature had played one of its jokes on Indigo Wolf. She was a rarity in that she had inherited the burnished skin of her Comanche ancestors and hair that belonged on a fair-skinned white woman. One of nature’s jokes, yes, but Jake wasn’t laughing.

Without the god-awful hat, she was the most striking woman he’d ever seen. She had a wild look, yet at the same time encompassed all that was feminine, so fragile and light in his arms that she seemed to have no substance. Except softness. He could feel warmth building wherever they touched.

He started to speak and then forgot what he meant to say when he looked into her eyes. So suddenly that it seemed to hit him between heartbeats, a rush of longing swept through him, and for several endless seconds, he couldn’t think beyond that.

Because he was so tall, Jake usually found himself attracted to statuesque women, but Indigo Wolf felt perfectly right clasped in his arms. Her breasts, so warm and soft, hit him just below the ribs and burned through his shirt with white heat. With his arm vised around her waist, her pelvis was thrown forward to ride his thigh. For a fleeting instant, he imagined lifting her a bit higher, imagined her skin and how silken it would feel, imagined her legs looped around his waist as he buried himself inside her.

“M-Mr. Rand?”

Though he heard the uncertainty in her voice, Jake couldn’t immediately surface and shifted his gaze to her mouth. Only the innocence that he had read in her eyes forestalled him from bending his head and kissing her. He could feel her heart pound and knew he was frightening her. She had gone rigid, her small hands fisted in his shirt, her back bent to put some distance between them.

“Mr. Rand?”

Jake blinked. He swallowed. He tried to breathe with lungs that didn’t want to work. Then, with little grace and no warning, he released her. Caught off balance, she staggered. He grabbed her arm to steady her. She cast around for her hat, spied it and pulled away from him to fetch it.

What in hell was the matter with him? She was scarcely out of the schoolroom. When he looked at her, he couldn’t believe she was nineteen and old enough to marry. Men who preyed on innocent girls disgusted Jake, always had and always would. He also disliked faithless men, and he had a fiancée waiting for him in Portland. Yet here he was, lusting after Hunter Wolf’s daughter? He needed a swift kick in the ass.

Blood still racing, Jake watched as she wound her hair back up and pinned it. An instant later, she yanked the hat back down around her ears. He felt as if someone had just snuffed the only candle in a dim room.

Her hands were shaking, so he knew she had felt the change in him while he held her. He’d been with too many women not to realize when he ran across one who was man shy. God, how could he have behaved that way? She was just a kid. The problem was that she hadn’t felt like one in his arms.

He glanced toward the trees and tried to think of something to say to smooth things over. Nothing came to mind. She might be innocent, but not that innocent. Women had an instinct about things like this and, no matter how young, always seemed to know when a man had things on his mind that he shouldn’t.

He spotted Lobo moving in the brush and decided the less said the better. Eloquent, he wasn’t. If he started in on an apology, he’d probably fumble it and only make things worse.

“A pet wolf?” he asked in a deliberately light tone. “Don’t tell me. I suppose you’ve got half the creatures in the forest trailing around after you.”

She peered out at him from under the hat brim, her stance uncertain. Jake half expected her to bolt, and he wouldn’t have blamed her.

“No, just Lobo. I feed a few wild creatures. The deer, of course. They’re always beggars. Then there’s an old cougar who’s lost most of his teeth and a family of raccoons. They’ll come up to eat from my hand, but they don’t usually follow me.”

“A cougar with no teeth. I take it his claws don’t count?”

“He isn’t a stupid cougar, Mr. Rand. If he hurt me, there wouldn’t be anyone to feed him every day.”

“And the raccoons? What’s your pact with them? The ones I’ve seen have all been vicious.”

“You probably frightened them. Anything can turn vicious if you scare it.”

A girl, for instance? Jake laughed softly and shook his head. “I’ve never seen a wolf that large or with his coloration. “

“He’s from the Yukon.”

Jake digested that. “How’d you come to own him?”

“I don’t. We’re just friends. You can’t own a wolf—not really. They do the choosing. Wild things are like that, especially wolves.” She moved a little farther away and glanced toward the brush where the wolf had disappeared. “An old miner from up north came through this way about three years back. When he moved on, Lobo chose to stay. We’ve been friends ever since.”

So wild things were like that, were they? Jake shoved his hands into his pants pockets, hoping she’d feel a little less threatened. He’d lost it for a second. He admitted it. But did she have to act as if he had sprouted horns?

An apology was called for. There was no getting around it. He just hoped he got the words out right. “I’m sorry I grabbed you like that.”

“That’s all right. He took you by surprise.”

So had she. “I’m afraid I gave you a scare.” God, how he detested that damned hat. “If I did, I apologize.”