They’d shot off another charge then, and spent two more hours clearing it.
The team remained on the hill, the search turning to a recovery.
Winter had pulled her away, to the house to warm up.
No use. She’d probably never be warm again.
She turned back to the window now, her body shivering, and watched the sun fall behind the craggy mountain, pitching the world into darkness.
Please,God.She’d surrender anything—anything—to have Jericho be alive, to have him show up and boss her around, and protect her.
“What if he made it into the mine?” Kennedy asked from where she sat on the leather sofa.
Sully and Malachi said nothing, their silence answer enough.
Except ... maybe... “There has to be another way in.” Harley fought to keep her voice steady. “The mine has other entrances—”
“All sealed decades ago.” Sully walked over and sat beside his wife, pulled her into his arms. “Dad had them closed off after he bought the lodge. The mine is a labyrinth of tunnels and dead ends. You go in and get turned around, you don’t come back out.”
She heard him, but she couldn’t get past the strange thump of hope in her chest.Please ... give me a heart that trusts you.
“What about—”
A bark. Faint but distinct.
She held up her hand. “Did you hear that?”
Sully frowned. “Hear what?”
Another bark. Closer.
“It’s coming from below.”
“The boiler room,” Sully said. He got up and headed for the door to the basement.
Harley followed.
The room had been recently redone, given the clean cement floor, the humming new boiler.
No Bernedoodle, and yet barking sounded from behind ... the walls?
“It’s coming from the mine door,” Malachi said. He’d followed her down too.
Theminedoor?
Sully climbed behind the behemoth boiler, and Harley spotted a boarded-up metal door.
More scratching and her heart found her throat. “Can you get it open?”
Malachi handed Sully a crowbar sitting nearby. He worked it into the board, pried it off, then pulled at the latch.
It groaned open.
Orlando burst out and launched himself at Harley. Dirt and grime embedded his fur. He whined, licking her chin.
“Hey, boy.” She buried her face in his neck, breathing in the smell of wet dog, and then met Sully’s eyes.
“Jericho’s alive. He has to be,” she said, standing up.