Warrior Mine: A Base Branch novel Page 14

  “Sophia!” From the steps, Carmen’s voice spiked with panic.

  The girl’s delicate fingers hovered just over the still cooking meat. Vail snatched Sophie’s hand away and pulled it protectively to his chest.

  “What?” she whined. The wispy fly-aways framing her face flittered in the breeze of her swiveling head.

  “You could have burned yourself.” He intended to speak normally, but the words hardly broke the hum of the refrigerator’s compressor.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Me too,” he said with a little more gusto.

  “Sophia Ruez, remember your manners,” her mother admonished.

  “It’s okay. It seems I’ve also misplaced mine.” He pinched a piece of bacon between his thumb and forefinger, tossed it into the air, and bobbled it between his hands until the heat dissipated. Then he broke the length in two and handed one to Sophie. “I’d like juice, please.”

  “Mom, what do you want? Juice? Milk? Water?”

  “Water, please.” Carmen’s voice grew nearer.

  Sophie hopped off to fill their orders. Her mother took up the post her daughter vacated, allowing more space between them. Unlike her daughter, Carmen didn’t give him a smile. Her mouth pursed and her brows snuggled in the middle of her forehead.

  “What?” he whispered.

  “You’re making me the bad guy,” she huffed.

  “What?” he said again. He truly had no idea what she referred to. Maybe the Base Branch. Maybe her brother.

  “Sophia.” She managed to yell in a whisper. “You can’t just give her what she wants. It does her no good in the long run. Life isn’t like that. Ask and receive.”

  “No, it’s not.” He placed several more slices into the pan. “Will you push down the toaster?” he asked without looking up. She sidestepped and depressed the lever, sending the bread to tan. When she settled her hip back again the bar he found her gaze and smiled. “But sometimes it can be.”

  Carmen buried her face in her hands and shook her head. Her dark curls danced about her chest. Then, little by little, in the small separation of her hands a smile stretched her lips. Her hands dropped and slipped into her tight jeans pockets. The move shifted her already up-right posture, thrusting her cotton-covered breasts at him. He shifted the bacon to keep from panting like a hound-dog.

  “You’re impossible,” she laughed.

  I’m way too possible.

  He barricaded the word inside his mouth. Any more prodding from him and she’d scoop Sophie into her arms and go to ground.

  “So, Mom?” Sophie’s words questioned without asking anything at all.

  “Yes, Sophia.” Carmen turned her wattage on her daughter.

  “Me and Vail planned to—”

  “Vail and I,” he and Carmen corrected in unison.

  “You’re ganging up on me.” Sophia wrinkled her nose. “Ugh!”

  Carmen’s gaze cut toward him. “It’s all for the good of your grammar. Now, what did you plan?”

  “Vail and I,” she elongated the I as only a petulant child could, “planned to fish this morning. You wanna… Do you want to come with us, Mother dearest?”

  “You might want to take a peek outside, Sophie.” Vail warned.

  He pulled the last of the bacon off the flame, yanked the final two pieces of toast from the machine, and constructed their BLT’s.

  “Aw, man. Wow.” Sophie muttered from the front window. He turned at her bedazzled exclamation. Laughter would have plagued him. Her nose nearly smashed against the glass at the winter wonderland. However, the one duck-taped pane whiplashed his humor with utter solemnity.

  The gravity of their situation choked him, until Carmen assumed the task. Next to him, she leaned closer to peer out of the kitchen window. His head snapped around as the heat from her jutting breasts whispered over his arm, curling need deep in his belly.

  “We can go,” he choked, “but we probably won’t catch anything.”

  “But a cold,” Carmen corrected. One corner of her mouth quirked in amusement.

  “There is that possibility,” he agreed.

  Carmen’s head pivoted, huddling them eye to chest. Her cheer expired the moment their gazes locked and the proximity of their bodies registered. Those likable red lips parted on a silent gasp. His fingers itched to cradle her nape in his palm, pull her forward those few inches, and fuse their mouths together.

  “Let’s go for a little while, please,” Sophia begged.

  For Carmen the trance broke with her daughter’s voice. She eased away. He let her retreat and turned to Sophie’s bright and hopeful eyes. Whether about the near kiss or the snow, he couldn’t be too sure. Either way, he couldn’t deny that face. Not him. He nodded. Carmen’s nod came after a suspended delay, entering his periphery. But it did come.

  He and Sophie scarfed down the sandwiches. With some prodding from her daughter, Carmen ate faster than she had last night. When she finished, she stood, collected Sophie’s plate and glass, and then tried to get his.

  “I can clean up. You don’t need to do that,” Vail said, guarding his plate.

  “You cooked. I’ll clean.” She scooted his hand from in front of the dishes. The contact, casual and insignificant, ignited their gazes. They locked and held for several seconds.

  “Thank you,” he conceded.

  Sophie had the gear ready and Carmen had the kitchen cleaned in no time. They stood at the door. When he hustled downstairs Sophie shifted back and forth on her heels in a comical dance of impatience. “Jackets off,” he ordered. Carmen’s eyes inflated, while Sophie’s narrowed. Both females’ cheeks reddened, though Vail guessed for very different reasons. He waved the sweaters in his hand. “Put these on underneath. It’s too cold out there for your puny layers.”

  Realizing what he meant to do, Sophie dropped the gear and shucked her jacket in seconds. She held up a hand. “Are those yours? Because I’d rather freeze to death than wear anything that belonged to those scumbags.”

  “They’re mine. They’ll be a little big, but we’ll fold up the sleeves,” he explained.

  Sophie grabbed eagerly for hers. Carmen looked loath to touch the one he offered, like its insulating layer was elementary school cooties. The young girl wormed her way into the cocoon. She stared down at herself. “Gah, it’s huge.” The bottom hem hit her mid-thigh and her hands hid a good five inches up the sleeves.

  “Come here,” he instructed. She shuffled forward and presented the drooping fabric. He knelt and maneuvered the extra up her arm. By the time he finished she had nearly two layers of wool covering her arms. She hopped to the door, retrieving the gear. His gaze lifted to Carmen.

  “You need help?” he asked.

  “I’ve got it,” she insisted, even as she wrestled with the excess fabric.

  She pinned the end she struggled to fold back against her breasts and attempted to flip it with the other hand. Time and again, she shoved the wool up her opposite arm and twice the stiff material straightened over her fingers, thwarting her efforts.

  “Here. Let me help.” He stayed on one knee and offered his hand.

  After a last useless push, she stepped in front of him, but remained far enough back that she didn’t enter the part of his thighs. He grabbed the edge of the sweater. The muscles in her sleek neck worked on a large gulp. Pleasure coursed through him. He flipped both without touching her, and then stood, closing the distance between them.

  “Thank you,” she croaked.

  “No problem.” Slowly he slid both hands on either side of her neck, reveling in the smooth, warm skin under his touch. Again she swallowed, but this time her muscles danced beneath his hand. When he almost completely encircled her tender flesh he lifted his hands, tugging her trapped hair from between the sweater and tank. Her lashes rested on her cheeks and her chin arched slightly. He settled her flowing locks around her shoulders. “All right?”

  “Yes,” she breathed and opened her eyes.

  The softness of
her upper lip tempted him. So, he stepped around her and hurried to open the door for Sophie. Progress to the lake was slow as they dodged ice slicks and felt their way along the hidden trail. Finally the ice-glassed surface came into view. On either side of him, the females stalled.

  “Whoa,” Carmen gasped. “It’s frozen over.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Sophie squealed, dropping the tackle and tugging his arm. “I’ve never been ice skating.”

  “And one day you will, but not today.” Vail squelched both girls’ excitement with that statement. Carmen’s wide eyes narrowed and Sophie’s everything drooped like a wilted flower. “It may look frozen from here, but this isn’t Michigan. It’s probably only paper-thin ice toward the middle. And I’m sorry to break it to you, but we’re not fishing in it either.”

  “But can we go closer?” Sophie prodded.

  “Sure,” he agreed.

  Growing up in Mexico, they’d probably never seen snow or a frozen lake. Sophie forgot the fishing equipment in the powder. She grabbed Carmen’s hand and they ran to the water’s edge. Vail hung back, giving them distance, and also working diligently to stuff the well of emotion into the neat and tightly sealed travel case where he usually toted them. The desire to pack these two into his car and drive north until they found a proper ice staking rink overwhelmed him, along with the knowledge that something so familial and carefree would never happen with the girls or anyone else.

  “You’ve got to come see this,” Sophie hollered back. At him.

  The knot in his throat looped and cinched so tight it would do any sailor proud. He coughed, and then strained for simple words. None came. So, he nodded, ran a hand over his growing scruff, and put one foot in front of the other.

  “Look.” Sophie eased one foot onto the crystalline ice and settled her weight more heavily on the frosty surface.

  Vail shook his head. When he reached her side he tugged her back onto solid ground. He leaned down and picked up a rocked half the size of his palm. “Hold out your hand.” She did and he placed the stone in her bowled palm. Carmen sidled next to him, but he paid her no attention. He couldn’t right now, not when desperation pushed him toward ridiculous notions. “How much do you think it weighs?”

  “Less than a pound.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Twelve ounces.”

  “That’s a good guess.” He took the chunk of earth back and tossed it a few inches into the air a couple of times. “How much do you weigh?”

  She grinned and swiped at her nose. “It’s a good thing you didn’t ask my mom that question. You’d never get an answer.”

  “I weight one-hundred thirty-five, or so, pounds, thank you,” Carmen scoffed.

  A chuckle lightened his burden. He clung to the temporary high. “And you?”

  “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 ligh
t 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.

  23

  Carmen 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.