“I understand.”
“If something happens to me—”
“I’ll protect him,” Mal vowed.
Jack glanced between them as unreasonable resentment churned in his gut. What were these two to each other? The idea of Mal touching her, kissing her, and holding her sent his blood pressure skyrocketing; if he’d still been human, he would be on the verge of having a stroke. Instead, he was contemplating beating Mal bloody again.
And he liked Mal. Yes, the man was a little odd, but fifteen years of living like a mole would do that to anyone.
His gaze traveled to Charlie with her striking, mismatched eyes and proud features. He restrained himself from stalking across the room and staking his claim on her by kissing her. It would most likely result in another broken nose, and he much preferred breathing to having his face rearranged again.
“We’ll go up now,” Jack said.
“It would probably be best if you learned the tunnels and exits better before going above,” Mal said. “That way you’ll know how to traverse them without getting killed.”
Jack was eager to find Mike and Doug, but Mal was right. “You’re right,” he agreed before turning to Charlie. “Are you going to lead the tour?”
Charlie scowled at him. “Follow me.”
She didn’t give him a chance to reply before she turned on her heel and strode away. Mal stared quizzically after her, but Jack smirked and hurried to catch up with Charlie’s retreating figure.
Chapter Thirteen
Jack hadno idea how much time he’d spent below ground. He and Charlie had spent a good portion of the day—or was it yesterday?—exploring two of the tunnels. He’d already been inside both those tunnels as one he’d fallen into, and the other went to the root cellar, but more side tunnels were branching off them than he realized. Most of those tunnels dead-ended, but some led out of the underground labyrinth Mal created.
When they returned to the cavern in the center of the underground maze, Charlie called for a break. “I want to see my son,” she said and walked away before Jack could reply.
Jack stared at the group gathered around the fire. Their wide eyes stood out from their pale faces as they gazed at him with a mixture of unease and hope. Jack walked over and sat close to the fire. He held his hands over the flames to ease the chill of the damp earth from him. Next to the fire lay a rabbit that had already been skinned and was waiting to be cooked.
He watched as Darlene stripped the bark from a branch with a knife. She then weaved the bark in and out of the holes she’d created in a shirt and a pair of pants. Jack recognized them as the clothes Charlie stripped from the Savages yesterday—or was that two days ago? Three days ago?
He hated this not knowing what day or time it was, and Mal wasn’t around to ask.
“It’s not the best,” Darlene said as she looked at Jack. He hadn’t realized she was aware he was watching her. “But it works.”
“It’s interesting,” he said.
“I suppose you could call it that,” Darlene muttered as she lifted the clothing to inspect the seams she’d joined together. Her black hair dangled in a braid over her shoulder, and her brown eyes were nearly black. She had a wide boned face and dusky skin. “We call it necessary.”
“Will it be a blanket?” he asked.
“Yes. It may be getting warmer above, but it will remain pretty much the same down here. I miss the summer,” the woman added this last bit in a wistful voice. Jack was sure she didn’t think he heard.
She set the clothes aside and picked up another shirt. She sliced the material open and used the tip of her knife to poke holes into it before stripping another branch of its bark and weaving the shirt into the other articles of clothing.
His attention was drawn away from Darlene when Charlie emerged from the shadows of the pit tunnel with Dylan. They stopped twenty feet away and sat. Charlie used the stick she held to draw something in the dirt. Dylan rested his head on his mother’s shoulder and yawned as he watched her.
Having been raised by a single mom, Jack believed he recognized something familiar in the bond between them, but it could be wishful thinking on his part and Dylan’s father was waiting at home for them. Charlie sure didn’t kiss like she had someone waiting for her.
Charlie pointed at something with the stick, and Dylan leaned forward to examine it more closely before taking the stick and writing something. The way the firelight played over Charlie’s chestnut hair and danced in her amazing eyes captivated him. He wanted to run the strands of her hair through his fingers again.
Dylan laughed, and the sound of it caused the corners of Charlie’s mouth to quirk into a smile. It was the first smile Jack had seen from her, and it caused her face to glow as love emanated from her eyes.
Unable to stay away from her any longer, Jack rose and strolled toward them as Dylan pointed at something else in Charlie’s drawing. “England, France, Germany, and Spain.”
Jack realized they were having a geography lesson and, tilting his head to the side, he made out the crude shapes of the countries in the dirt. Geography had never been his strong suit, so he took Dylan’s word for it as he handed the stick back to Charlie.
“Good,” she said.
