She lifted her lantern as they stepped into the darkness. “Stay close and be quiet.” She spoke just above a whisper, still not glancing back to make sure he was there. Maybe she wanted to lose him. More likely, she could hear his noisy footsteps. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t keep his boots as quiet as hers, especially not now, with all the loose gravel littering the stone floor.
He tried several different ways to land his feet and finally settled into the one that made the least noise. It helped that this stretch didn’t have much gravel.
Jess stopped abruptly and set the lantern down. She turned to him, her face half in shadow. "We go on without the light. You have to stay quiet."
The importance of that last statement hung between them. With the lantern casting odd long shadows over her face, he couldn’t read anything in her expression except seriousness.
What did she fear?
Too late to ask now.
She crept forward, and he stayed close. As they left the lantern behind, darkness pressed in, heavy and blinding.
He reached out to make sure he wouldn’t run into anything. In this thick black, he couldn’t be certain whether he was about to slam into a rock wall or a jutting stone. His toe kicked a loose stone, sending it clattering against the wall. Like a gunshot in the stillness.
"Shh!" Jess hissed so low, it almost sounded like a breath.
The noise didn’t come from ahead of him though. More to the right. Perhaps he had been about to walk into a wall.
“Take my hand.” Her words might have been only a thought.
But then her fingers brushed his wrist. He slid his hand until her palm fit against his.
She started forward, nearly dragging him the first step until he caught up. When this woman set her mind to do a thing, she wasted no time.
He settled into the same stride as her, walking just behind but not so much that he would step on her heels. In the murky darkness, her hand provided something solid to focus on. Her skin was soft at first contact, but when he concentrated, he could feel a slight roughness on her palms and fingertips. She was no stranger to hard work, like most women who made their home in the west. But Jess’s life seemed so different than those of his sisters-in-law that he wouldn’t have been surprised if her skin were pale as milk or soft as honey.
Reality was far better though. She was the perfect blend of feminine grace and competence.
She was so small, her hand nearly engulfed by his. Yet her grip possessed a wiry strength, much like the woman herself. He didn’t have to hide his grin in the darkness. Jess McPharland was like no other woman. Thank the Lord he’d come upon her. What if she’d asked another man to play her pretend husband?
His chest tightened at the thought of someone else holding her hand in the darkness. Some cad eager to take advantage of her.
Or even a decent man, come to think of it.
This washisplace.
Which made no sense whatsoever, except therightnessof it sank deep inside him. He might have stumbled into far more than he’d expected today, but he couldn’t be sorry he’d met Jess.
He nearly chuckled, remembering when they’d spoken to her father. She must have decided she wouldn’t be able to convince him of the truth of her marriage, so she’d added that bit about being in the family way. Jess was sharp, no doubt about it.
Thankfully, he’d have her far away from these caves before her falsehood became clear. No telling what her bully of a father would do or say if he learned she’d lied about all of it.
Jess led him around a corner.
Wherever she went, he would go too. Who knew what threat might loom in this darkness. She was so small. That feeling welled up in his chest again—that overpowering need to protect her, to shield her from any danger or threat. No matter what the cost.
It was irrational to feel so deeply about a woman he’d just met, but there it was, as solid as the stone all around him.
If he’d doubted her story, her father’s behavior proved all she’d told him. She'd lived under her father's thumb and was desperate to get away, certainly to escape before being forced to marry a man she didn’t love.
Gil couldn't let any harm come to her. Especially here, in this suffocating darkness where peril might lurk.
A steady pounding rose from up ahead. He realized he’d been hearing it, but now the rhythm was loud enough to distinguish from his own heartbeat.
Metal striking metal. Or maybe stone. The sound grew louder as they advanced.
A faint light appeared ahead, and Jess's pace slowed. Her grip on his hand tightened. Was she nervous?
