Dream Man (17 page)

She laughed softly. “Maybe, in spite of not being the dark-haired sister, she's a Gypsy after all.”

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “She's a witch, because I've been totally bewitched ever since she first came into my dreams.”

That she could relate to. She brushed her mouth over his. “I've heard that dreams can be prophetic. I wonder if something like either of our dreams is ever going to happen?”

“I don't know,” he said, “but I kind of like yours. Want to give it a try?” It worked with no trouble at all.

They both knew now, and were ready to admit to each other as well as themselves, that escape attempts were futile. If they were going to die slowly and lingeringly as their food ran out, it was better to conserve their strength for the joy they could give each other rather than waste it in more exhausting and useless digging. If they were to have nothing else in this life, then at least they could have each other.

Sometimes when they were awake, there was daylight coming through the tiny slit, and now and then, rain dripped in from a gray sky. Sometimes, it was very black. But once, just once, a bright, full moon cast a romantic glow against one wall.

“I want to make love to you in the moonlight,” Max said, forcing her to bestir herself. He gave her a mint to suck and carried their bed and clothing to the far side of the cave, where the faint, ghostly glow shone. Placing the sleeping bag in its beam, he came back for her and led her there, laid her down and knelt before her. Bending, his pressed his mouth over hers. When she moaned softly and lifted herself slightly toward him, he took one nipple in his mouth, then moved to the other until they both stood high and shiny and wet, glistening in the moonbeam.

“Love me,” she whispered. “Come inside me and love me just one more time.”

“Can't, sweetheart,” he said, knowing it was true. He was growing too weak. He rested his head on her warm stomach, caressing her with his hand, parting her thighs and finding the moist folds between, then kissed her there.

She had about as much strength as he had and could only sigh softly as the gentle pleasure began to curl within her. Her knees lifted and fell apart. She cradled his head in her hands while he kissed her intimately. Her climax was small and weak, but no less to be cherished, because he had given it to her.

Drawing him into her arms, holding his head against her breasts, she whispered to him, “Max McKenzie, I have a confession to make. I love you. With all my heart and soul, I love you.”

“Ahh, darling. Then if we were going to live, you'd marry me?”

She hesitated only briefly. What harm could it do now to make him as happy as he had just made her? “Yes, Max. I'd marry you.”

She felt his smile against her breasts. Moments passed. The moonbeam moved away from their tiny share of the sky, and it was dark again. She thought he slept, but then he began to hum. Her mind put words to his hummed tune.
I do … love you … with all my heart … The Hawaiian Wedding Song
?

Her heart swelled. Was he saying he loved her? “Max? Max, what are you humming?”

“Don't know,” he muttered. “Just humming along.”

“With what?”

“The harmonica.”

Harmonica? Was he hallucinating? She listened, but all she could hear was the babble of the stream and… wait! No, it couldn't be! She shoved him off her and sat up. There it was, the sound of a harmonica being played somewhere up there in the night.

Leaping to her feet, she screamed with all her might, “Help! Help! We're down here! Help!”

“Who's there? Who are you?” The voice was faint and seemed to be fading even as the man called.

“We're underground!” Max projected his voice as hard as he could. “We're in a cave. There's a hole in the roof. Be careful!”

There was no reply. Jeanie waited and waited, then tipped back her head and screamed for all she was worth. “Help! We're here!”

“I hear you!” came the voice again, this time more clearly. “But where are you?

“We're buried in a cave!” Max tried once more but again there was no reply.

“It's my voice he can hear,” Jeanie cried. “It's higher pitched. It carries better.” She moved to the area just beneath the hole and screamed again. “Help!”

“Listen to me!” The man's voice was fainter. “I can't find you now. It's too dark. Stay right where you are. I'm tying my shirt to a tree so I won't lose the place where I first heard you. I'm going for help. I will be back. I promise. Call, lady, if you can hear me.”

Jeanie screamed a yes. Her throat ached and burned, but she screamed as if her life depended on it. And it did.

“Okay!” came the man's voice. “Are you Jeanie Leslie?”

“Yes!” she shouted, her voice cracking.

“Is Max McKenzie with you?”

Again she gave a loud affirmative.

“Is either of you hurt?”

“No! No! We're all right, weak. Starving, but alive! Jason! Is Jason safe?”

“Yes! The boy is fine! I'm leaving now, but I'm coming back. Don't go away.”

Jeanie collapsed, laughing and crying, onto the hard floor of the cave. “He's okay, Max! Jason is all right! Did you hear the man? He said Jason's fine!”

Max, crouching naked over her, tried to lift her to her feet but could not. Trembling, so weak he could barely stand, he brought their bed to where she was and rolled her onto it, holding her tightly until they slept.

Jeanie had no idea how long they dozed before pieces of rock falling to the cave floor roused her. Bright, artificial light beamed through the chink in their roof, and suddenly she realized they were both stark naked under their blanket. “Can you hear me?” asked a voice, not, she thought, the one from earlier. “Is anyone down there?” More rocks fell from above, along with soil and sand and pieces of moss.

“Yes!” she cried hoarsely, her throat still sore from screaming. “We're here. We are right under you. Stop throwing rocks!”

“Okay, Jeanie, you and Max move aside. We have to make this hole big enough so I can get down to you. Get way over to the wall where it's safest. Can you both move?”

“Yes!” She could, but she wasn't so certain about Max. He was lying inert on the sleeping bag, staring at her as if wondering who she might be talking to.

She shook him to get his attention. “Max!” she said urgently, “come on. Get with it. We have to get dressed. Help is coming. Here, let me get you up.”

He continued to stare at her questioningly. More rubble fell.

“Stop!” she screamed toward the hole in the roof. “Wait! I can't get Max to move!”

A voice boomed from above. “Maximillian Joseph McKenzie, you get your butt in gear or I'll personally kick it from here to kingdom come!”

Max struggled to sit. “Rolph?” he muttered. “Rolph's here? I'm… h'lucinating.” He tried to lie back down, but Jeanie tugged harder at his arm.

With difficulty, she got him mobile and led him to a safer area, then went back and got their bedding and clothes, and told his brother to go ahead and do what he had to do.

“Can you get into your jeans?” she asked Max. He nodded. She handed them to him and tugged on her own, amazed at how loosely they fit. She pulled on her filthy sweatshirt, her damp gray socks, and her sneakers, while Max forced his shaggy head through the neck of his grimy, matted wool sweater. In the meantime, more chunks of rock fell down around where they had been sleeping, and then the light was blocked and a man in jeans and a bright orange jacket came through the hole, lowered on a cable.

Unhooking himself he ran to them. Kneeling beside them, he reached out to touch Max. “Damn!” he said, his voice choking, moisture filling his green eyes. “The things you won't do for a good story, Max. And who is this? The coal miner's daughter?”

Max lifted his blackened hand, touched his brother's golden hair, said, “Hi, Rolph. Nope, this is no coal miner's daughter. This is my personal chunk of coal. Squeeze coal, and what do you get? Diamonds.”

He let his hand fall from Rolph's hair onto Jeanie's lap. “I squeezed her. Believe me. She's a diamond.” Then he passed out cold across Jeanie's thighs.

T
WO PARAMEDICS FOLLOWED
Rolph down as Max lost consciousness, bringing thermoses of hot beef broth with them.

“Slowly,” said one man to Jeanie, when she started to gulp the wonderful liquid. “Nice and easy. One sip at a time.”

The other man was busy swabbing Max's arm and inserting an I.V. needle, which he immediately hooked up to a bag of fluid.

“I don't need that,” Jeanie protested, to no avail when the paramedics did the same to her. More rescuers arrived to wrap them in heated blankets. Max came to and sat up, leaning half against the wall, half against Jeanie.

The cavern was flooded with light, stretchers were prepared, and as she leaned on Max and he on her, sipping their broth, the hole became even wider at the top.

“Jason? Please tell me about my nephew!”

Jeanie asked again. She'd been asking, but the crew had been too busy looking after her and Max to give her any details other than to say he was fine.

Now, as she was lifted, carried away from Max's comforting warmth and laid on a stretcher that was more like a basket with a lid that strapped tightly over her, one of the paramedics told her that her nephew had been found early the second day of search. He'd fallen into a ravine and had been suffering from a gash to the head, a severe concussion, a broken leg, and a badly bruised shoulder. He was recovering at home after a stay in hospital, and now that she had been found, he'd recover a lot faster.

“How long were we in here?” she asked, and was amazed at the answer.

“Fifteen days? I had it somewhere around seven, maybe eight at the most. Listen, get Max out first. He's weaker than I am. He worked a lot harder trying to dig. He's bigger, but insisted we share our food equally. Please, take care of him.” She burst into tears she could not seem to control.

“My partner's taking care of him just fine, Jeanie. Now don't you worry.” The paramedic poked a needle into a port on her I.V. line and injected a different fluid. “You afraid of heights?” he asked.

“No, just caves,” she said wearily, as a sedative began to enter her bloodstream. “I'm so tired. I want to go home.”

He smiled and patted her grimy cheek. “Then up you go, sweetie. You're on your way home. I promise Max will be right behind you.” He spoke into a hand-held radio and steadied her cradle-like stretcher as it was hoisted aloft. Soon she was in the first faint wash of daylight, blessed rain falling on her face, and Sharon was rushing along beside her, as she was carried at a trot through the woods. Sharon's cold fingers clung to Jeanie's wrist, avoiding her swollen, bleeding hand with its jagged nails and torn skin. Every so often, she'd reach out and stroke the dirty, tangled hair back from her sister's face, smearing the endless tears that fell until Jeanie drifted into blessed sleep.

“Oh, baby, baby, I thought you were dead!” Sharon said a few hours later when Jeanie woke to find herself in a hospital bed.

“Who, me?” Jeanie tried to smile but couldn't. Her mouth twisted, and she cried along with her sister. “Who'd look after you if I let myself spend the rest of my life in a cave?”

Sharon paled starkly, and Jeanie knew it had been tactless joke; she had come too close to doing just that to try to make light of it.

“When can I go home?” Jeanie stared blearily at her thickly bandaged hands

“When the doctors—and I—decide you're well enough.” There was a no-nonsense quality in her older sister's tone, and Jeanie was too exhausted to fight the battle she'd intended to fight. A nurse came in and gave her a shot. Sharon said, “Go to sleep again, babe. I'll be here when you wake up.” Sharon leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Jeanie fought sleep. “No! Max! I need to know if he's …” Her voice slurred. “Tell me …” She struggled against the sedation, stiffened her elbows and tried to sit up. Sharon put her back down on her pillow.

“Max is doing just fine,” Sharon said soothingly. “His brother is with him, and his parents are here, too, at the hospital. We've all been frantic, Jeanie. This has been the most terrible period in my entire life, almost as bad as it must have been for you. Now shut up, close your eyes, and just let me look at you so I can convince myself you're really here.”

Jeanie wanted to tell her sister that in some ways it had also been the most wonderful period in her life, but not even Sharon could be expected to understand the special magic of what she and Max had discovered as they lay together entombed in a coal mine.

Her eyes refused to stay open, and when she woke, she saw Sharon sleeping in a recliner beside her bed. A night-light cast a comforting glow along the floor and up one wall, revealing a window. Content, feeling safe, Jeanie slept again.

The next time she woke there was a breakfast tray on her table. “Hungry?” a nurse asked, and she nodded.

“But I'm too dirty to eat. And with these, I can't so much as hold a spoon.” She waved her boxing-glove style bandages in frustration.

“You can shower afterwards if you feel strong enough. I'll feed you now. You have to get your strength back.”

With her I.V. temporarily disconnected, and her bandages securely taped into plastic bags, her shower consisted of working up a gray-colored lather with shower gel, rinsing it off, then repeating three times until she was fresh and pink all over. It was harder to do her hair, but she managed. When she was finished, she didn't care even one iota that her hair was going to dry naturally into a zillion ditzy kinks that made her look like a light-brown Little Orphan Annie. It was enough to be clean all over.

She staggered out of the bathroom, glad to find Sharon there. Her wobbly legs needed all the help they could get to reach the bed her sister tucked her into.