CHANCE SLID HIS ARMS out of his pack and dropped it on the ground beside hers. As he squeezed his way through the opening, he realized it had been a while since he’d been through this tunnel. Too much time sitting behind a desk. Not enough time doing fun things like this.
Nothing in the tunnel indicated the teenagers had found it, but he dreaded what he might find at the other end. He shimmied the last few feet and came out into the small dead-end room, sighing his relief. Nothing had changed since the last time he was there, but he’d forgotten the ceiling was so low. He had to keep his neck bent so as not to bump his head.
Kyndal scooted out of the tunnel effortlessly. Her tiny frame probably hadn’t even touched the sides. He helped her into a standing position, which proved to be no trouble. She even had a foot to spare. He watched her expression as she scanned the strange contents of the room.
Mounds and indentations—nine of them all together—circled the outside perimeter of the cavern, and each had a leather collar lying at its center.
Kyndal knelt by the nearest one and picked up the collar, reading the name inscribed on the small metal tag. “Ajax?” Her bottom lip protruded in a thoughtful pout. “His dog?”
Chance nodded and knelt beside her. “All of Mr. Turner’s
dogs, I think. This is where he buried them.” He focused the light on a collar about three feet away. “That collar is really old. No name on it. And the depression is the deepest, so it’s probably the first grave. Maybe a childhood pet.”
“Oh.” Kyndal’s hand spread across her chest. “That is so sweet.” The light glistened in her eyes as she blinked back tears. “All these years, I’ve thought he was a mean old man. But he had a soft side behind that gun-toting exterior, didn’t he?”
A wild urge to kiss away those tears came over him and he stood up abruptly, whacking his head against the low ceiling. He let loose a string of expletives, which did nothing for the pain but eased his frustration somewhat.
Kyndal snickered—enjoying his suffering—and began taking shots of the curious room’s contents.
“Well, don’t go making Turner into a saint just yet.” He rubbed the ache with his fingers until he was satisfied there was no blood. “I also found the remnants of a small still and a lot of empty bottles. I don’t think Turner’s tenacious guarding of the place was strictly because of his dog cemetery.”
At the mention of the still, Kyndal sprang to her feet, shooting a smug smile toward the ceiling. “Ooooo. A still. That would make some good shots.”
“It’s gone. I was afraid somebody might get cut on the rusty metal.” He winced as another pain shot through his head. “But I have something in another room I think you’ll find photo-worthy.”
Kyndal nodded toward the tunnel. “Let’s go, then.”
That she was in a hurry to be finished with this excursion caused another echo of pain, this time through the middle of his chest. He quickly reminded himself that the sooner they got back into the glaring light of day the better off they’d both be. These depths held too many memories.
Kyndal was on all fours before he could offer to go first. Her backside wiggling its way through the shadowy tunnel just a foot in front of him made him wish he’d given her a longer head start.
Once through to the other side, they swatted the dust from their legs and shouldered their backpacks once again.
Chance led the way through a series of caverns, taking them deeper into the cave. The cooler temperature pulled the hair on his neck to attention.
“I’m getting a little chilly.” Kyndal tugged on his shirt to hold him back. She dropped to one knee and unzipped her pack, pulling out the thermal top from yesterday. Her breasts bobbed under the T as she slipped the extra layer over her head. The cotton underneath caused it to catch, and she struggled to get it over the soft mounds, twisting and turning her body in a dance of oblivious erotic gyrations.
Chance stood hypnotized by the movements, not daring to breathe. How many times had he watched her dress after they’d made love, helped her with a button or a zipper that was difficult to reach? The extra air from his lungs seemed to shoot straight to his groin, blowing into a rock-hard