Warrior Mine (15 page)

“Ninety pounds at my last doctor’s appointment.” Sophie smiled.

“Look.” He used the word she’d said only a moment ago to drive the message home. Then he slung the rock across the ice. It slid and ramped the small seams where the water sealed together. It stopped about forty feet off the shore and sat at the water’s surface as though suspended by magic.

“See,” the girl beamed. She leaped into the air and turned to face him. “It’s safe.”

With a hand on her shoulder he pivoted her back to the water.

“What. Where’d it g… Oh, man,” she whined, staring at the black hole punctured on the otherwise pristine ice.

“Not one foot on the ice, Sophie,” he warned.

“Yes, sir.” She huffed and shuffled away. Several feet down the shore, she picked up a rock from the bank and hurled it. The pitch was so steep it crashed through the ice into the lake. Seemingly pleased with the sound and splash, she repeated the cycle several times. Wandering and tossing.

Carmen stood staring at the winter wonderland. For a moment Vail catalogued her sways and dips, the way the wind caught tendrils of her obsidian locks, the strong set of her jaw that hosted lips plush enough to suck a man into a coma.

“Why do you call her Sophie?” The surprise of her voice kicked him in the nuts.

He huffed.

Way to go, Tucker. What an upstanding gentleman you are.

“She hasn’t grown into Sophia, yet. It’s a lovely name and she will, probably too soon, but for now she’s just a kid.” She broke her gaze from the lake and squared him with it. “Why do you call her Sophia?”

“No one’s ever asked me that before.” She covered her mouth with her fingers, and then let the hand rest at her side. “My father’s great-aunt was a nun at a mission in Ensenada.” For only the second time he heard the accent thick on her tongue. The first had been when she used Sophie’s full name, reprimanding the girl as only a mother could. “Her name was Sophia and she was the only good person I could find in all of our bloodline. I hope for her the wisdom of her name’s meaning and the grace from her name’s sake.”

“What about the wisdom and grace from her mother?” he asked.

“Ha, there is good in me. Just not enough. I’m tainted.”

“Most of us are,” Vail countered. “But I think you sell yourself short.”

“Or maybe I’m just honest with myself.” She ducked around him, heading in the opposite direction of Sophie.

Vail hooked his index finger around hers. Their arms outstretched, facing away from each other, he found an obscene amount of comfort in the simplicity of their touch. Her cold finger tightened around his and the edge of her thumb brushed his skin. Breath wedged in his throat. He squeezed in return.

“Maybe you sell yourself short too,” she whispered.

Maybe he—

A large splash severed his thought. Immediately he searched out Sophie. Her sunken footsteps meandered in the snow to a fallen tree protruding from the woods and gradually sinking below the surface twenty feet from the bank. He and Carmen released each other at the same time and bolted toward the last place they’d seen Sophie. Carmen faded into the background as he surged forward, terror lending him speed. It took too long to clear the distance.

The tree’s mossy bark boasted a scuff mere feet from the submerged end. The closer he drew the blacker the hole in the ice on the far side of the tree grew.

Fucking no. Christ, no.

Not a ripple broke the water.

Vail pushed harder. Perpendicular to the chasm, he launched himself belly first onto the ice. He skidded. The sharp, uneven terrain clawed at his chest for what seemed like miles. At last the murky water centered his aim, he drew one full breath, and plunged into the depths.

Fear already shocked the heat from his body. So the freezing water didn’t sting. He forced his eyes wide, whirling in a circle as his body righted itself. In the distance a tornado of bubbles danced. He kicked hard, bearing down on the little girl who clawed and beat the frozen surface. Her need for air overwhelmed all other urges. Vail knew this from his training. He’d been pushed to the edge, where Sophie hung, and further.

Training dictated he wait until she sank into unconsciousness and then revive her at the surface. He refused to wait and watch. Instead, he elongated his strokes, cupped his hands, and kicked from the hip to his rubber soles.

Vail’s hand fisted in Sophie’s jacket. He turned her to him. Desperation gnarled her pretty face. She clawed at his. Her body took over, panic and the anxiety to live usurping all else. He kicked to keep them from sinking deeper and pulled her closer still. One arm banded her in an unrelenting hug. They lurched and thrashed through her struggle.

He held tight, managing to pinch his thumb and forefinger over her nose. With all his might, he wrenched her face to his, sealed his mouth over hers, and blew gently. Once her body caught on, she sucked the air from his lungs. His pipes burned for air. He snuggled to the sensation, refusing panic, the normal human reaction.

With unceasing kicks Vail turned them toward the dim light shining through the hole and propelled them forward. He looped one arm around her torso and used the other to power forward. The nearer the light grew the more tunneled his vision became.

He shoved Sophia at the hole. She burst thought the surface. Sweet air filled her lungs. And for that he’d be ever grateful. As he fought for consciousness and the strength not to inhale, he drifted, at peace with the sacrifice he’d made.

C
armen stared into hell
. It had been more than a minute since the splash and her hope turned as colorless as the water. The slick surface refused to crest with life. She gripped the ice. Tears pooled onto the tiny glacier. A scream ripped from her throat, echoing across the barren wilderness.

Not her baby. Not after she’d just gotten her back. Not after they’d just gotten away. If Sophia never surfaced, Carmen would end her misery in the murky water. She’d slip beneath the surface and bury herself with her daughter.

And, Vail
.

Her stomach lurched at the loss of something not hers to lose.

“Please, God. If you’re there. Please.” Her sobs were but a feather in the heart of a typhoon. Weak. Doomed.

The
whoosh
of water startled her cry. It broke under her nose. Sophia was practically thrust into her arms. Her daughter’s eyes were wide. Her heaving mouth cleaved wider as she sucked for breath. Sophia’s hair slid across her face, sending a shiver to Carmen’s toes.

Wild, failing arms tipped Carmen off balance, but hope imbued her with strength. She locked one arm around Sophia’s waist, braced the other on the ice and wrenched her daughter from its grip.

Sophia choked. Her little lips, as blue as the clear sky, sputtered. But she breathed.

How was that possible? She’d been under for far too long. There was no way Sophia could have held her breath that long. Even she would have been hard pressed to stave off an inhalation of lake water.

Realization crackled like lightning behind her eyes.

Vail!

Bless it all, but she turned away from her daughter. Turned her back on the most precious thing in the world to her. Carmen crawled on hands and knees back to the hole. Without hesitation, she looped one leg around the tree trunk to her right and dunked the top half of her body into the water.

Electrocution had to be kinder than the icy water. It flash-froze her brain, rendering her useless. She hung there for what seemed like an hour, as her body screamed for relief.

Vail.

Determination, so deeply engrained, refused to give up without a fight. She willed her fingers and arms to move, and they did. Twisting and thrashing about, she stretched lower into the water, searching for the man who’d saved her daughter, the man she didn’t have, but still didn’t want to lose.

The need for breath stung her lungs like a porcupine burrowed deep inside for the winter. She refused to give up. He hadn’t given up on Sophia. Or her. He deserved no less.

There it was. A brush. Something warmer than the water. Carmen arched back. Stretched so much her boot gave way. Panic seized her. If she went in, she couldn’t save Vail or Sophia.

A frigid mass caught her leg, draping over both, and soaking her jeans through.

Sophia. My girl.

Pride renewed her efforts. Another swipe brought direct contact with flesh. She grabbed hold and yanked hard. Like an angler, she let her line loose—her line being her body—grabbed lower and reeled fast. His hand. His arm. His torso. She looped her arms under his. Using Sophia’s weight as leverage and every muscle she possessed, Carmen levered them both to the surface.

Sweet Jesus.

Like Sophia had a minute before, Carmen hacked and wheezed, and pulled at Vail, who coughed and gasped, his body convulsing in uncontrollable fits. She grabbed his belt and yanked one last time. His torso firmly on the ice, she collapsed to the side. Amazingly, he army-crawled his body the rest of the way out of the water. Then his gaze was on her, fierce and… What? She didn’t know. Then he looked past her toward Sophia.

The concern in his gaze jackknifed her. Tired or not, she reached for Sophia. Her daughter smiled weakly, but the beautiful sight could not distract from the shivers that wracked her small body. Carmen’s hands moved to the zipper of her jacket, but a large hand stopped her.

“No. Let me.” Vail’s voice sounded as though it had been stored for a millennium and never used until now. He hacked. “I have…more body heat. You…ll freeze.”

He crawled past her to Sophia, unzipped his sopping jacket, and wrapped it around her legs. Carmen felt its weight on her own legs, and its heat. She nearly groaned. She hadn’t noticed how cold she was. Then he peeled the wool sweater from his chest. Like manipulating a doll, he lifted Sophia to sit, draped the cloth over her head, and tied it around her chin and neck in a make-shift hood.

The only things standing between him and the sub-freezing temperature were soaked pants, socks, boots, and a white T-shirt. Too bad she didn’t have time to appreciate the hands-down winner of every wet T-shirt contest in the history of mankind. His arms shook as he bore his weight and struggled to his knees.

Carmen rolled onto hers more easily. She stood and, giving the hole a wide birth, hurried to his side, her boots slipping on the wet ice. Yet, she didn’t worry about falling through. The layers were thick close to the tree trunk. She and no idea how Sophia managed to make it through the solid sheet. Bracing her legs for balance, she offered Vail a hand. Shocking her for the tenth time in as many minutes, he rested his elbow in her palm and gripped her upper arm. He used her as a human crutch to lever upright.

“I want you,” he rasped, “to go to shore.” After a breath and a swallow, he continued. “I’m going to drag her across the ice. It’s thick, but not thick enough to hold our combined weight, if I carry her off.”

“You can hardly carry yourself,” she pointed out gently.

He touched his finger to the tip of her nose. “Get that sweet tush movin’. We’re wasting time.”

She tried to speak, but her lungs refused to cooperate. So, she cooperated with him for all their sakes. From shore she watched him wrangle a smile from Sophia’s pale lips and then drag her across the ice toward shore. Once there, he leaned down, scooped Sophia up like a babe, and held her to his chest.

In that moment something rigid cracked inside Carmen. A bit of her he-woman, ‘
I can do it all on my own, hear me roar,’
succumbed to Vail’s fierce, yet gentle, protective nature. Sophia trusted him with her life. It was time Carmen started trusting him with hers. Because Vail might be the only person on the planet who could protect Sophia better than she could.

V
ail’s boot
hit the porch step. The sight and sound gave the only indication he’d left the snow. His feet tingled with numbness part-way up the trail. The tingles turned to shards of glass slicing his soles with each step for the next half. He pushed through the discomfort. Sophie’s eyelids drooped lower and lower, despite the jostling from his awkward strides. Her exhaustion from the ordeal was plain. Hell knew he could sleep for days. But first, he needed her warm and alert before he’d allow her to doze.

“Hey,” he said with a shake, “is that an icicle or a booger hanging from your nose?”

Her lashes fluttered then popped open. She struggled for the briefest of moments to free her hands from her jacket pockets where he had Carmen shove them before they left the lake. Unsuccessful in that venture, the girl used other resources. She turned into his chest and nuzzled her nose against his wet T-shirt.

“Eew,” he croaked. “Good thing I was just kidding.”

Her sweet brown gaze met his and once more she smiled.

“That’s my girl,” he praised. “We’re here. A warm fire. Dry clothes. Hot coffee.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Okay, the coffee’s for me, then.”

“And me,” Carmen chimed, skirting them to open the door.

Vail stepped into the cabin and wanted to weep in thanksgiving for central heat and air. The place was drafty and damp, but nothing compared to a frozen-over lake. Carmen shivered and chaffed her arms as she closed the door with her ample backside.

“Okay, Sophie, I’m going to put you down. I want you to do your best to stay upright. It’ll be hard, but I know you can do it. For just one minute.”

“I can do it.” Her voice cracked for the first time since the fall.

“Carmen, I need you to help her get all these wet clothes off. Yours too, if you can manage it. I’m going to get towels and blankets, and then I’ll make a fire.”

Both girls nodded.

He ran, or at least tried to run, up the stairs. The movements more closely resembled a cartoon where the character’s feet spin and spin and they go nowhere. Winded more than he’d ever care to admit, he reached the top of the stairs. He thought to grab them fresh clothes too, but the thought of touching Sophie’s panties made him a little bit squeamish. His original plan had all kinds of merit, but he did take a moment to grab a fresh pair of pants for himself. Not much good he’d do running around naked.

In the bathroom he stripped his paltry tee and draped a towel over his shoulders. Then he set about collecting the rest of the dry linens. With a pile of towels and an armload of bedding, Vail hurried downstairs. Taking pains to avert his gaze, he got a good look at some rafter cobwebs. When he heard both girls sigh he stilled. “What’s wrong?” It almost killed him not to look, not to rush to their aid, no matter the cause of their anguish. But it would kill him to breach Sophie’s privacy. Carmen’s…not so much.

“I can’t get her clothes off,” Carmen sniffled.

“I can’t help her,” Sophie moaned. “My arms won’t work.”

“Hey, it’s all right,” he crooned. Able to lower his gaze, he found Sophie still in her pants and the double-sleeved sweater he’d put on her earlier. All Carmen’s clothes remained plastered to her body. She held tight to the sweater she’d taken from Sophie’s head, while the jacket, sopping socks, and shoes lay on the floor.

He walked to the couch, scooted the clunky monstrosity closer to the fireplace, and then he set all but two large towels atop it. They weren’t bath-sheets, but neither were they hand-towels masquerading as bath-towels while revealing your goods to the world. When he reached Sophie he walked around to her back.

“Carmen, take this.” He offered her one of the towels and draped the other over his shoulder. “Get in front of her.” She did as he asked without question. “Sophie, I’m going to stay at your back and help get these wet clothes off you, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The three of them wrestled and sweated to get her clothes off, and Vail did it all while looking at his toes, the wall, the ceiling. He wrapped the towel under Sophie’s arms and around her body, while Carmen dried her hair with the other.

“Here, let’s get her to the couch and you can finish that there. I’ll start a fire.” When Carmen stepped back, he scooped Sophie in his arms and hurried to the couch. He settled her upright and piled her with two blankets. Then Carmen was there mothering.

He hustled outside, hating to let in any of the chill. Even more, he hated the way the sharp wind stiffened his man nipples.

Son of a bitch!

He was some kind of cold. Now that the girls were safe, it seeped into his pores. He hauled two stacks and set them just inside the door. The third he brought directly to the fireplace.

“It’s a good thing we cut all that wood,” Sophie said through the chattering of her teeth.

“Absolutely,” he agreed.

“Hey, Vail?” Sophie continued. Earnestness steeled her tone and jaw.

“Yeah, sweetie?” He swiveled on shaky legs. Bracing both hands on the floor for support, he smiled up at her. She was bedraggled—and beautifully alive.

“You told me not to put a foot on the ice. So, I walked the log, thinking I was smart to get one over on you. You know, technicalities and all.” She staved off threatening tears with a sniff. “I’m so sorry. I almost got myself killed, and you too.” Her lips scrunched and anger lit her eyes. “You shouldn’t have given your breath for me, your life for mine.”

He let a moment tick by, breathed deeply, and shook his head. “I can’t think of a better person to give my life for, Sophie.”

Vail didn’t wait for a response. He turned to the empty hearth and loaded it with wood. Thanks to years of practice, he prodded the fire to crackling in less than five minutes. He turned to the girls. “Good?”

“Heaven,” Carmen said, while Sophie bobbed her head adamantly. Carmen sat on the floor in all her wet clothes, chaffing her daughter’s feet with the towel meant for her.

“Up you go,” he said, hauling her off the floor. “Clothes off now, and towel on, or I’ll help you too.” He lowered his head to her ear and whispered, “And I won’t avert my gaze.” She drew a shaky breath.

Hard as it was, he snagged his pants from the pile on the couch and retreated to the kitchen for that pot of coffee and a small kettle of tea for Sophie. While he waited for the water to boil, he scrubbed his head with the towel. His chest, back, and shoulders came next. Then he stared at his still-frozen bottom half. The cargo pants had to go, along with the shoes and socks. He should've grabbed fresh boxers too. But he’d been in a hurry. He considered running up the stairs and grabbing some, but who was he kidding. His arm shook where he propped himself up on the counter. His legs may as well have weighed a ton each. There was no way he’d make it up the stairs right now. All his adrenaline stores depleted, he crashed hard. There was also no way he could stand the cold cotton on his keister for one more minute. He shucked them, dried his goods, and pulled on his blessedly dry pants.

The kettle piped and he made tea, ignoring the gooseflesh covering his chest and his razor-sharp nipples.