“Here. Drop one in your mouth from the roll.”
He reached out to find her hand holding the mints. Doing as instructed, he managed to get one in his mouth without touching it with his filthy hands. What he wouldn’t give for a dip in Lake Pleasant right now. He handed back the mints, and they slipped into a companionable silence.
It was odd to think that if he didn’t return home tonight, no one would know. His family lived farther north and his former co-workers and friends were up there, too. The only people he knew in the area were his realtor, Cole, and some of Cole’s station men from long ago when he’d worked there. The only reason anyone would look for him was because his truck and the Last Chance trailer were parked at the ranch house.
It was an odd realization that emphasized how disconnected he was at this moment in his life. Definitely not a feeling he liked nor wanted to continue too long. “Will anyone else be missing you tonight, besides Last Chance people. I mean do you call your mom every Friday or anything?” It was a long shot, but it would be good to know that Riley might be missed.
“Not likely since she’s dead.”
Shit, he stepped in it this time. “I’m sorry. You mentioned your father had passed. I didn’t realize your mom had as well.”
“It’s not a big deal.” He could picture her waving her hand in dismissal. “They’re all dead. Dad was killed in Iraq, so mom drank herself to death and my sister overdosed. Hard to believe I’m the sole survivor isn’t it?”
Shit, she was far worse off than he was. “That had to be tough.”
“Not really. I was a daddy’s girl. Mom and my sister were always weak and emotional. I tried to hold them together, but duty called. Mom died while I was overseas the first time. My sister died shortly after I returned the second time. They said it was accidental, but I have my doubts.” She gave her strange laugh that he was beginning to understand was more of a self-deprecation. “Ironic when you think about it. I’m the one in a war zone and they’re the ones who die. What about you? Do you call home every Friday night like a dutiful son?”
Her tone made it clear she thought the idea pathetic, which irritated him. “No, though I know my parents would love that. We touch base whenever we feel like it. I haven’t talked to them in weeks.” Something he planned to fix.
“I think once we’re out of here, you should call them.”
Her voice had softened, and he suddenly understood exactly how alone in the world she was. “Do you ever see your Army—”
“I’m ready to make up my bed and get some sleep. Tomorrow we might break through if we have enough rest.” Cooper jumped from his arms even as Riley’s boots scraped against the ground. A clear indication she’d stood.
He rose as well, but didn’t turn on his phone. It was very low on battery and knowing he probably only had one more time to use his light, he kept it in his pocket. “My phone is about dead.”
Without replying, she turned her phone light on and set it on the ground facing up, giving them enough diffused light to see the piles of loose dirt they’d pulled in and the space they had made their home base. She strode to the piles and picking up the gold pan started moving dirt.
He followed suit with the shovel head. It took a while but it wasn’t hard work, not like pulling it from the cave-in. After piling more where his head would go, he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. It was stuck together with Riley’s blood. As she knelt by her pile to add her bandana, a shiver raced up his spine. Her bed looked like a newly filled-in grave.
Stuffing his useless handkerchief into his pocket, he caught site of what was left of the towel, Riley had ripped up earlier hanging on the rock. Dog saliva wasn’t his pillowcase of choice, but it was better than dirt. He quickly pulled it off and laid it over his constructed pillow.
“I hope you don’t snore.” Riley pointedly stared at his pillow which was next to her own, though the rail lay between them.
“I don’t. Believe it, I’d know. In a firehouse, everyone knows who snores and who doesn’t.”
She nodded, taking his word for it, as she placed her hat on the ground above where her head would rest.
“Do you?”
Her startled gaze whipped to his. “No, I don’t snore, but…”
He cocked his head, waiting.
She shrugged. “I used to talk in my sleep, but not anymore. I’m going to turn the light off as soon as we bed down. You might want to see if you have any rocks to remove.” She followed that advice by lying down and settling in. “Not bad.”
“No rocks?” He set his hat on a rusted nail in a beam of the old bracing near where they’d worked then returned and lay down.
“Nope. No rocks. You?”
He moved his right leg and pulled out a rock, throwing it toward the pile. Copper ran after it. He laughed. “At least someone likes the rocks.”
Riley rolled her eyes, obviously not impressed with Copper’s intelligence. “Ready?”
“Ready.” The light disappeared and the absolute blackness was back. How long would they sleep? Would their bodies know when it was morning? “Did you happen to see what time it was when you had the light on?”
“It was twenty-one twenty-three.”
