Rocky Mountain Homecoming. Pamela Nissen

or small, she’d allow him the privilege of doing. He’d dreamed of her more nights than not, of whisking her away from evil captors, of braving the worst of elements to carry her to safety. His whole life had hung in the balance as he’d been on the ready, waiting for any opportunity to garner her coveted attention.

      She’d never shown him the slightest interest.

      But when he’d tagged along with a group of kids into a cave just to be near her, and when he heard her screech in fright, he’d seized the moment. It’d been his chance to shine. To prove himself worthy of her affection. The moment he’d dreamed of.

      Ivy had laughed in his face. The brilliance in her eyes sparking in the lantern’s light had grown almost brighter than the noonday sun as she’d made it clear that she didn’t need his gallant gesture.

      Hugh Bagley’s riotous laughter had echoed off the cave’s dank dark walls, along with the other kids. Zach had utterly embarrassed himself. Hugh had hung back long enough to warn Zach to keep his paws off Ivy. Then he’d given Zach a rough shove, sending him stumbling backward, falling hard and long into an abandoned mine shaft.

      Zach had hated confined spaces—still did. Loathed the unknown elements that hung like a mire of webs in the obsessive darkness. Still, he’d been too prideful to call for help, at first, anyway. But after Hugh and the others continued on, leaving Zach swallowed up by a darkness he’d never imagined, he’d called. Prayed. Yelled. Screamed until his voice had turned raw.

      No one came.

      It seemed that even God hadn’t been listening.

      He’d remained trapped for two whole days, and by the time he finally found a way out—scratching and clawing at the walls until his fingers bled, the soles of his boots were worn to shreds and his words refused to come out as anything other than a stutter.

      Desperate, Zach scrabbled his way back to the present, his face flaming hot. His blood boiling. And his heart somehow growing colder and harder after reliving the memory.

      “I’ll say it again … this subject is not up for discussion,” he measured out.

      A slow sigh escaped Ben’s mouth. “I can’t make you talk about this,” he began, his tone saturated with concern. “But know that if you don’t deal with what happened, it will continue to haunt you. It’ll affect you in ways you won’t be able to ignore. Like now. I know it’s been a deep dive taking on the role as foreman. Ask for help if you need to, because if you’re having a hard time keeping up out here, your stutter could’ve shown up as a direct result.”

      “No,” he ground out, irritation now joining the other raw emotions flapping around like broken shutters in his soul. “I told you I’m fine. Things on the ranch are fine. I’ll work through this alone, just like I do with everything else. I can handle it, Ben. Just like I have everything else.”