She should probably tell him everything. They’d come too far to withhold details now. And he’d more than accomplished what she’d hoped with her father. “Sampson works for my father. In the mine.”
Gil’s brow gathered even more. “For your father? What did you say his name was?”
The weight in her chest threatened to cut off her breathing. “Simon McPharland. Most people know him as Mick.”
Gil’s expression shifted from confusion to worry to…something else.
She took a step back.
He didn’t look angry. It was the recognition she saw. How did Gil know her father? Must’ve been by name only, for neither had seemed to recognize the other.
Father’s name was known widely. She knew this.
But how didGilknow him?
She’d thought he was different, not associated with any of the lowlifes her father mingled with. Could Gil only know of him through his more reputable endeavors?
No. The clarity in Gil’s eyes, the way his mind seemed to be putting pieces together, the way he now looked ather…
Did he learn about her father because of his search for Sampson?
If only she knew how and why Sampson had come to be here. She didn’t usually want to know those details, didn’t want to be part of her father’s false dealings. She could do nothing to stop him, and knowledge of his actions would only infuriate her—and maybe make her do or say something she would regret.
So she kept her focus on caring for the men when they were hurt or injured. Sampson had experienced neither, so she only knew him in passing.
Gil straightened, then motioned to the door curtain. “Let’s go then.”
Something in his manner was different now. He still wore a pleasant expression, but it seemed more focused, as if he had a plan he intended to act on.
Did she dare take him down to the mine? What if he did something that made himself stand out. What if he tried to sneak away with his brother?
She couldn’t let him leave without her.
She softened her voice. “Maybe it’s best you stay here. I’m not going all the way into the mine. I should be able to watch the men from a distance. If there’s something amiss with your brother, I’ll see it and let you know. It will be harder to stay quiet if there are two of us. I’ll take you to talk to your brother tomorrow.”
The lines around Gil’s eyes softened. It must have been determination she’d not been able to identify a moment ago, but it eased now. “I won’t make a scene, Jess. I promise. I just…well, I didn’t realize your father was Mick. Sampson mentioned him once, and I figured I’d find my brother somewhere around him.” He shrugged in an almost self-deprecating way. “I guess I did. I won’t cause trouble. I won’t take a step unless you tell me to. ButI’ve looked a long time for my brother. It’d mean a lot if I could just lay eyes on him, see for myself he’s all right.”
She searched for any hint of duplicity, any sign he might be trying to wheedle into her good graces. He looked sincere, he’d proved discerning when he’d spoken to her father.
“All right.” She hoped she wouldn’t regret this. “But stay with me. And be quiet.” She didn’t know for certain Father would be angry if he caught her bringing herhusbandinto the mine, but she’d rather not learn for sure.
Gil followed Jess out of the cave, slipping around the cloth door and out into the sunshine. She’d brought a lantern, but it certainly wasn’t needed out here.
She must be planning to go into another cave.
As before, he had to lengthen his stride to keep up with her quick step. She’d clearly traveled this path many times.
And itwasa path, but not one he’d have ever found if not for her. She led him around the base of the mountain that contained her cave home. The tall grass on one side concealed the trampled dirt they now walked.
He kept his voice low. "Is this the way your father went?" If so, they might meet him coming back. Would the man expect them to have stayed in the house?
"No, he would have taken the inside cave."
Inside cave?
She veered left, behind a cluster of cedar trees no taller than he was. He had to turn sideways to follow, with the cliff wall at his back and branches scratching his face and hands.
A narrow cave opening soon became clear beside him. How many hidden entrances into the mountain were there? And howlong had she and her father lived here? It didn’t seem possible they could have kept the openings and paths so hidden for years, but Jess maneuvered them like she’d done so all her life.
