“Don’t touch anything!” he said. “Don’t!”

  “But I almost have it…”

  Another creak. Jesus, the whole shaft sounded unstable. What if it came crashing down?

  “Don’t move. Please. Don’t move.”

  “But I can get it,” she insisted.

  A dim light swung his way, then back into the darkness. A flashlight at the end of its battery life.

  The roof moaned.

  The sane thing to do would be to coax her out slowly or run to get someone the stubborn kid would listen to.

  This is not your problem, a dark voice in his head said.

  He cursed under his breath and maneuvered his body between the boards, entering the cool shade of the shaft. No way was he leaving that kid in that tunnel alone.

  “Just wait a second,” he said. “I’ll be right there.” And then I’ll carry you out of this deathtrap, if that’s what it takes.

  He hunched and stepped slowly forward, running a hand lightly along one wall for orientation. Moist bits of rotting wood came up under his nails as he stepped forward.

  “I think it’s gold!” Tana said.

  She was so excited, he couldn’t really get mad. Not when he remembered all the times he’d gone exploring as a kid. He’d gotten into a few messes in his time, even a few as iffy as this.

  The next overhead board sagged in the middle, and he ducked under it, afraid that any sound would bring the whole roof down. Crap, didn’t Tana know how dangerous this tunnel was?

  No, he realized. She had no idea. She was just a little kid.

  “Look what I found! Look!”

  The earth moaned above, and his blood ran cold. Jesus, did he have a bad feeling about this.

  He maneuvered around a board half blocking the shaft as quickly as he dared. His eyes adjusted gradually, and there she was — a pint-sized bundle of mischief not so different than the kid he’d once been.

  “See?” Tana gushed, blissfully unaware of the danger. “I think there’s gold back there. But it’s stuck.” She jumped for a beam hanging from the ceiling.

  “Don’t touch!” he shouted.

  Too late. Tana grabbed the protruding piece and toppled back to the ground.

  Dust showered on his head as the earth around them moaned louder than before. A moan that grew into a deep rumble.

  “Uh-oh,” she murmured.

  He reached for her hand. “Come on. Time to get out.”

  Thankfully, the kid didn’t resist. Quick as a goat, she skipped ahead of him.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, eyeing the ceiling. “Just watch you don’t trip—”

  Her foot caught against a board that was blocking the shaft, dragging it with her, and a mighty crack sounded.

  “Quick—” he started, but it was too late.

  Rocks and dirt rained on him from above. He dove forward and grabbed Tana, then scrambled to the low point in the tunnel. The sunlight at the end of the shaft grew dim from all the dust raining down. One beam after another dropped, blocking their escape. If he ran for it now, he and Tana would both be crushed flat.

  He shoved Tana between his feet and tented her with his body as the rest of the ceiling came crashing down.

  “Cover your mouth! Stay down!”

  The beams overhead were low enough to lean his back against while he braced his feet against the onslaught from above.

  Tana squeaked. Holly screamed. Everything shook.

  “Holly, run! Run for help!” he yelled, hoping she could hear him above the din. “Go!”

  He thrust his arms out to the sides as the world went dark. Something moved beside his ankle — the only soft element in that edgy, splintered tunnel of hell. That had to be Tana, cowering by his feet. He gritted his teeth. He would not — could not — give in to the crushing force.

  It was like being inside an earthquake. A rock slide. A ruthless tectonic plate. His ears roared with the sound of it. Every muscle in his back groaned and his arms shook. He ducked his chin, sheltering his mouth and nose from waves of dust. It was sheer chaos until everything went still.

  Deathly still.

  He blinked but couldn’t tell whether he’d gotten his eyes open or not. It was that dark.

  “You okay?” he whispered, praying for an answer.

  Panic wasn’t something he could ever remember feeling, but he sure came close when Tana didn’t reply.

  “Tana!” he cried.

  A whimper, a scratch. God, was she all right?

  “Are you hurt?” he asked, ignoring his own aching joints.

  “No,” a shaky voice came.

  “You sure?” He found himself pleading with fate. Please, please, let the kid be all right. She had her whole life ahead of her — if he could hold the ceiling up long enough. If help arrived quickly to dig them out of that dank grave.

  If, if, if.

  “I’m not hurt,” Tana said, then started crying softly.

  He figured it was from fright, but then she whispered through her tears.

  “Don’t tell my daddy. Please don’t tell my daddy.”

  He gnashed his teeth. Ty Hawthorne didn’t seem like an abusive father, but you could never tell. “Why? Does he get mad?”

  Luke found himself vowing to kill the man if he ever made it out of this hellhole alive.

  “Not mad. Disappointed.” Her voice wavered. “You promise not to tell?”

  He let out a puff of air. So that’s what it was. It couldn’t be easy for the alpha’s kid, shouldering so much pressure. A self-imposed pressure, it seemed — that drive to be the best. Yeah, he remembered that. Wanting to be as tough as his dad and uncle. Tougher, even. But he’d never gotten his chance.

  The sniffling went on while he struggled to answer. “Sweetheart, I think your dad is going to find out.”

  She curled into an even tighter ball and sniffed harder.

  “But he won’t be mad. He’ll just be glad to see you. Believe me.”

  “You think so?”

  He thought about it for a second, because he didn’t want to lie to a kid. Then he nodded. He’d seen Ty Hawthorne’s eyes grow soft when he looked at his kids. And when Ty turned back to work, his gaze would harden and grow fierce in an I will do anything to protect my family glare.

  “I know it.” He nodded. “What we have to do is stay still and hang on. Help will come soon.”

  Okay, so he wasn’t so sure about the soon part. How fast could Holly run? How long would this little pocket of air last?

  “Just hang in there,” he murmured, as much to himself as to Tana.

  He shifted slightly, trying to avoid the sharp edge of a beam that was digging into his back. The needle points of a dozen splinters cut into his palms, but he didn’t dare adjust the way his hands were braced against the walls of the tunnel. The A-frame of his body was the only thing keeping the rest of the tunnel from collapsing on Tana right now.

  Every bone in his body screamed. His muscles shook, and his teeth hurt from clenching against the pain pulsing through his body. The earth above him shifted, trying to squeeze the resistance out of him, but he pushed back harder. He could not — would not — fail.

  But crap, would it be close.

  He counted seconds, then minutes, then decided he’d better not count any more.

  “You know any good songs?” he asked. Maybe that would keep him going. Maybe it would help keep Tana going, too.

  She hesitated, then started singing so quietly, he could barely hear. “I know a mule, her name is Sal…”

  He smiled in spite of himself. His sister used to sing that one, too.

  His sister. He gritted his teeth harder and pushed back against the memories.

  “She’s a good old worker and a good old pal…”

  He hummed along with that tune, and the next one Tana came up with, and the next.

  “This land is your land, this land is my land—” Tana stopped abruptly as the earth rumbled again.

  Luke clenched every muscle in his body and closed his eyes, picturing the forces that would crush their tiny shelter to nothingness.

  But it wasn’t the earth around them shaking. There were footsteps outside.

  “Tana?” a woman called, panic tight in her voice. “Tana?”

  “Mommy!” she cried.

  Luke was tempted to cry the same way.

  He’d never have thought it possible, but when Ty Hawthorne’s gritty voice boomed into the tunnel, it trembled with fear.

  “Tana!”

  Luke’s legs trembled in the same way. If they didn’t hurry up…

  “We’re coming. Just keep still,” they called.

  More voices joined those outside. Rock dragged against rock. The dust stirred again as a whiff of fresh air wandered in. Shovels scraped, and wood creaked.

  “Watch it!” Luke hissed, fearful they’d bring the whole place down. “Keep it slow.”

  An eternity passed, but then a rock was rolled aside, casting a shaft of light on his feet. Tana scooted to freedom through the tiny space. And Luke — for a split second, his heart sank. What if they left him there?

  He’d die. Plain and simple. Was he ready for that?

  His arms shook, and he nearly let the mountain end it all. Now that the kid was safe, what did he really have to live for?

  An image of Carly popped into his mind, but he forced it away. She deserved better than him. Way better.

  Then his mind wandered to all the sins he still had to atone for, and he straightened a little bit. No, he wasn’t ready to die. Not like this. He’d only just started making up for the mistakes in his past. He couldn’t stop now.

  So he whispered a word he hadn’t used for a long, long time.

  “Help.” Please help. Quickly, he pleaded inside.

  “Hang on.” A voice knotted with concentration reached him. The low, dangerous baritone of Ty Hawthorne.

  His muscles groaned back. Can’t hang on.

  He shut his eyes and told himself fate was throwing yet another test at him, and he’d damn well better pass. So he hung on by the skin of his teeth — teeth that bit into his lip and drew blood because it was that close.

  “Careful!” Cody’s voice broke into the space.

  Patches of darkness appeared before Luke’s eyes. Death was creeping up to him, snickering in glee.

  Whatever remained of the shaft’s framing groaned again. At the same time, a second beam of light pierced the darkness as another obstacle was pushed aside.

  “Move it. Move!” Ty Hawthorne barked.

  Luke scrambled forward as the earth thundered. One step. Two steps. A third. He clawed his way forward and tripped into blissfully open space. He rammed into Ty Hawthorne, too, but barely felt the impact. Then he was lying in the dirt, gulping fresh air and staring at the sky.

  So blue. So clean. So much open space.

  Dust showered out of the collapsing shaft, and someone pulled him clear. Voices shouted all around, but he didn’t care. Not about the sting in his eyes or the ache in his chest. He soaked in the sight of blue sky as if it were water.

  The last bit of the tunnel crumbled in on itself, and he could swear the voice of fate hissed through the din.

  There, wolf, it seemed to say. Your second chance.

  Yeah, he got the message. Make something of it, asshole. Or else.

  It was at exactly that second that Carly raced into view. She crested the little rise that opened into that area and promptly hit the brakes.

  “Whoa,” she murmured, staring at him.

  And just like that, he was back in a tunnel again — but a good one, with him at one end and Carly at the other, both of them bathed in golden light. His heart beat faster, and he caught a breath, savoring the clean, clear air.

  The woman who laughed in the face of danger actually looked worried for a moment. She hurried toward him, touching his shoulders, checking him, whispering—

  Then she pulled up short, scowled — and, bam! Reality hit him all over again.

  She didn’t want him. He’d never get the happy ending that had briefly teased his soul.

  He rolled onto his stomach and coughed into the dirt for a good five minutes. Hands smacked his back, and it took him a while to figure out they weren’t furious with him.

  “Good job, man.”

  “Close call.”

  “Are you nuts?” Carly added, stooping beside him.

  Funny to hear the local daredevil ask him that.

  The ruckus settled down eventually, and he got as far as sitting up before his back screamed for him to stop. So he paused and looked around. At Carly. At the rubble blocking the aqueduct completely.

  Holy shit.

  “You okay?” Cody leaned over, studying him.

  Luke looked past Cody to where Ty Hawthorne hugged his daughter.

  “Don’t be mad, Daddy,” she cried.

  “I’m not mad, muffin.” The alpha’s arms shook, and the one area of his face that wasn’t smudged with dirt was pale. “I’m just scared to death.”

  “But nothing scares you, Daddy. Nothing.”

  The big alpha just hugged her tighter and held her to his chest.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” Lana Hawthorne said, patting Luke on the back.

  He was sure her mate would jump between them if he saw that, but when Ty’s eyes cracked open, there was no malice in them. Just gratitude. He nodded — just once, but it was enough.

  Thank you, that nod said.

  Luke looked away before the alpha went back to his usual distrusting scowl.

  “Are you okay?” Cody repeated.

  But his voice sounded far away, like everyone else. Spots danced in front of Luke’s eyes, and the only thing he could really focus on was Carly. He searched her eyes for the flash of concern he’d seen before. The sparkle of interest.

  And, zing! There it was, a spark of gold in her bright blue eyes.

  “Yeah,” he nodded, choking on his words. Yeah, he was okay now.

  Chapter Ten

  Never in a hundred adventures and misadventures had Carly’s heart beat as frantically as it did then. Not even in the closest of her close calls. Her heart was skipping, pounding, heaving at the idea of Luke so close to certain death.

  Mate! her wolf wailed. Mate!

  She’d just about bowled Cody over in her rush to get to Luke’s side, and it was only when she got there that she hit the brakes — just in time to avoid hugging him to her chest.

  Whoa. Wait a second. What was she doing, rushing up to him like that?

  He’s our mate, her wolf cried. Our mate could have died.

  She tried shaking her head. She didn’t have a mate.

  Then how did we know something was wrong from so far away?

  That one, she didn’t have an answer for. And it was hard to kid herself with her heart still jackhammering in her chest. She really had sensed Luke’s distress from all the way across the ranch. She’d run as fast as she could, and instinct had brought her right to the aqueduct.

  Instinct brought us to our mate, her wolf said.

  “Come here, sweetie,” Lana said, peeling Tana away from Ty and hugging her daughter tightly. “Let’s go home.”

  Within minutes, everyone filed away, focused entirely on the kids. Which left Carly alone with Luke. She wanted to take off before the same overwhelming urge to touch him set in as it had that night they’d met in the bar. But, shit. She wanted to stay, too.

  Can’t leave him now! Not when he’s hurt.

  “You okay?” She couldn’t help it — she put her hand on his back. A big mistake, as it turned out, because, zing! Even that contact made her body sing.

  Careful, her wolf cried. Mate is hurt.

  When Cody had dusted him off, Luke had winced. Now, he was just about swaying on his feet.

  “Perfect,” Luke muttered just as his knees buckled.

  She slid her arm around his torso and propped him up. “Right. Sure.”

  Well, he is perfect, her wolf murmured, feeling the hard bulk of him flex.

  “I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth. His eyes were closed as if the world might be spinning in his mind.

  “Right,” she said, adjusting her grip. “Come this way, Superman.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  She guided him along far more gently than she meant to. The heat of his body crept over to hers, and no matter how hard she tried to pretend she didn’t notice, she did.

  It felt good. Comforting. Right.

  He exhaled and relaxed under her grip. Was he thinking the same thing?

  Boy, was destiny playing some mean tricks. Like inundating her with his musky scent. Like giving him that lost puppy look she sometimes spied when he let his guard down.

  His guard is down because he’s with us, her wolf said. He trusts us.

  Well, she sure as hell didn’t trust him — or herself.

  She did some quick calculating. There was no way she could abandon Luke at that shack he’d been staying in. And no matter how she was tempted to bring him to the place she was staying in — Tina’s old place — she wasn’t about to succumb and do that. But the little adobe guest house was empty, and it had just what Luke needed — a shower and a nice cozy bed.

  A nice big bed. Her wolf nodded eagerly.

  All we’re doing is helping him get there. This big, bad wolf can handle the rest on his own.

  Our big, bad wolf, her inner beast sighed.

  She steered him down the hill and across the ranch. The setting sun cast a rich, golden glow over the scene, but her focus was on the layer of dust and sweat caking Luke’s skin.

  My poor mate. My poor mate, her wolf kept fretting.

  Part of her hoped Aunt Jean or someone else would appear, cluck over Luke, and insist on caring for him. But everyone had gone off to check the kids, and the ranch was quiet. So quiet, she could hear destiny whispering from across the plains.

  This is no accident. This man is your mate.

  She bit her lip. If only the contact didn’t feel so good. So right. If only her soul didn’t skip and sing from holding him close.

  “Almost there,” she murmured, forcing herself to take long, even breaths. The longer she spent with Luke pressed against her side, the more her wolf threatened to take over, and who knew where that might lead?