to the cold, lifeless shock two years, two months and ten days ago. She had just turned into her driveway after coming home from the grocery store and seen the army chaplain and Tim’s commanding officer at her front door.
She shut off her feelings to block the pain. After all this time, she still battled the overwhelming wave of grief. What had death been like for Tim? Had he known it was coming or was it so sudden, he didn’t know? Had he suffered? Was his last thought of her? She hated how time had begun to dim his memory. She could no longer pull his image up in her mind as clearly. It felt doubly cruel.
“Jesus is supposed to be in heaven waiting for us, but what if I don’t go there?” Crystal’s voice wobbled. “What if I’m not good enough?”
“Jesus loves you, Crystal.” She didn’t feel equipped to be reassuring anyone’s faith. “Please stop worrying and relax. You need to rest.”
“Okay.” The girl sounded all wrong—as if her condition were worsening, as if she were fading away.
Please, Lord, don’t let that happen. It wasn’t fair that Crystal had been so wounded when she had not been. She adjusted her broken arm carefully, where it rested on her thigh, and ignored the sheering pain. Take anything from me, Lord, and give it to Crystal. Please use it to save her life.
No answer came. The last stars winked out. The little girl beside her gave a sob, as if she were running out of hope, too. September’s stomach clamped tight with prickly fear for the girl. The truth was, she felt as if God could not see them and suspected He didn’t care.
And wasn’t that a sad way to feel? Her breath hitched in her lungs with a sharp pain. What happened to the woman she used to be? She dug deep, past the hard, suffocating shell of grief, and tried to see her old self, the one she had lost along with Tim and their dreams. ThatSeptember would not be on the edge of despair. She would be certain God would see her to safety.
She’d had such perfect faith back then and doubt would never have crept in. Nor the certainty that she was forgotten in this grave deep in the earth.
How had she come to this place in her spiritual life? She felt blood trickling down her forehead—the cut must have started bleeding again—and gingerly blotted it with her T-shirt hem. The two years were a blur as she’d fought to put one foot in front of the other and make it through each minute, each hour, each day. Now she found herself here, trapped in the earth, more lost than she knew how to say.
“I feel real bad, September.” Crystal sobbed once, just once.
“Hang in there, sweetie.” She adored her little riding student; she felt useless to help her now. She tightened her hold on the girl. “Close your eyes and rest.”
A snapping branch shattered the vast silence. Hope flared to life. She eased her arm around the girl and sat up, not daring to say anything or to even think the words. After all, it could be a wild animal passing by and not a rescue party. But still, it could be. She carefully rose upward, laying her good hand on the damp clay wall for support. Bright spots flashed in front of her eyes and the pounding in her head felt like the worst of thunderstorms. She kept her thoughts clear and strained for the tiniest sign that anyone was nearby.
“Hi, there.” A man’s rough baritone preceded the shine of a halogen flashlight.
There was something about that voice, both familiar and startling. Her thumping brain couldn’t make sense of it right off. He took a moment to look away, as if signaling to more people out of her sight. Her double vision made it hard at first to recognize the striking, chiseled lines of his face, the high, proud forehead and straight bridge of his nose.
“You two are a welcome sight.” He grinned down at her with an easy friendliness that spun her back in time.
“Hawk.” Tim’s best friend. Her blood went cold. Seeing his shadowed face sent her into another shock wave. Tremors quaked through her as she stared, openmouthed. The last time she’d seen him it had been dark, too, as dark as this mine shaft, the night full of loss and sorrow where no light could reach.
Why did it have to be him? Couldn’t their rescuer be someone—anyone—other than Mark Hawkins?
“September Stevens, you look worse for the wear. Contusion. Concussion, maybe? Your arm’s broken?”
She nodded, struggling to think past her shock. “Crystal’s hurt. I think she needs a helicopter.”
“Got it.” Their gazes met and the force of it was like a punch. She knew without asking that he understood what she couldn’t say, not without panicking the girl. He turned toward the child. “Crystal, hello there. Can you see me?”
“Ye-ah.” She sounded weak. Too weak.
“Good, ’cause I’m comin’ down to fetch you. You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever rescued.” Unruffled, that was Hawk, and beyond the tough-as-bedrock Army Ranger was the heart of a truly kind man. He climbed into a harness and tied off. “Everything’s gonna be fine now. You hear me?”
“Ye-ah.” Even in terrible pain, the girl managed a small, brief smile.
September’s knees were watery, so she sank back down beside the girl, watching as Hawk tested the rope and nodded to the other rescuers somewhere out of her sight. Good to go, he rappelled through the darkness, the rasp of the rope the only sound between them. Their ordeal was over, and they were found. That ought to bring her sheer relief. It didn’t. Knowing their rescue came at the price of seeing Hawk again was no comfort. She winced when his feet hit ground. His presence seemed to draw every particle of air from the underground cave.
“We’ll get Crystal up first,” he murmured, leaning close. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the mix of mountain air, leather and exhaust clinging to his clothes. “We’ve got a chopper coming…” He paused to catch the gurney being lowered on a rope. “And Crystal’s mom knows she’s been found.”
“Good.” What a relief. She thought of Patty Toppins, a concerned, caring mom who had to be frantic with terror. Dully, she realized Hawk was kneeling next to Crystal. She cleared her throat. “Let me help.”
“No need.” His gloved hand caught hers and sent a shock through her system.
Alarmed, she wrenched her hand away, bumping into the earthen barrier. Her breathing came raggedly, her pulse thudded too loudly in her ears. Why had she reacted so strongly to Hawk’s touch? Why had he unsettled her? She blinked, realizing another man was circling around to assist Hawk. Someone else roped down without her noticing. Too much was happening, and she couldn’t seem to focus. It must be because of the concussion.
Hawk had already turned back to business, the wide set of his shoulders visible in the eerie shaft of light from above. It was good to see him. It was horrible to see him. She felt useless as the men started an IV for the girl and strapped her into the gurney. The second man hooked in. She caught a glimpse of Crystal’s face, ashen in the harsh lighting, before the ground team hoisted her swiftly upward into waiting hands. The whop-whop of a helicopter told her help had arrived just in time.
“Let me take a look at you, September.” Hawk’s voice, gentle with concern. “You’re hurt.”
“Nothing like Crystal.” It was too hard to look him in the eye, tougher still to see the shadows of the life and the dreams, which were gone. He reminded her of what was lost. Of the determined, competitive, patriotic man she
