A Message for Julia Page 8

  “You got a good man down there?” Mamie’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  Nodding, Julia wiped her eyes with her fingers. Linc was a good man. It wasn’t all his fault that their marriage was a mess. Her eyes blurred again. Mamie handed her an old-fashioned, embroidered handkerchief that was almost too pretty to use.

  “It’s washable.” Mamie seemed to read her mind. Julia laughed and dried her eyes.

  “Any little ones?”

  How many times had that question been asked of her or Linc? Every time, rather than the pain easing, it only grew worse.

  She could only shake her head in response. She used the handkerchief anew. “We’ve tried.”

  Mamie didn’t push but didn’t turn away, either. Julia looked up and met the woman’s time-worn gaze. There was no pity, just sympathy and perhaps an understanding she might never know the details of.

  “I…I had a miscarriage.”

  “I’m sorry, dear.”

  “Me, too. The doctors never really knew why, and I haven’t been able to get pregnant since.” She didn’t add that the chances were slim since she hardly saw Linc. Their troubled marriage had cost them so much. She blinked away the tears that blurred the sight of Mamie’s hand folded over hers.

  Julia couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked about the baby, but something about Mamie inspired trust.

  Linc certainly wouldn’t discuss it. Past arguments came back to cut her heart again. Her requests that they see a fertility specialist. His adamant refusals even to discuss it. “What’s meant to be will be,” he’d said over and over. She’d finally stopped bringing it up and the baby that had never really been now ceased to be.

  Suddenly, voices sounded outside the tent, startling them both. Julia stood and Mamie followed, holding tightly to Julia’s supporting arm.

  Patrick Kelly strode into the tent, two other men right behind him. While Patrick wore a hard hat and his shirt was smudged with dirt, the other two men were covered in grime. Their teeth looked inordinately white against their coal-blackened skin. She couldn’t tell if they were smiling or not.

  Patrick climbed up onto a folding chair in order to be seen by everyone and to get their attention. Silence immediately descended.

  Julia stood tall. She might cry and she might hurt, but she was determined to face this with as much strength as she could muster.

  She didn’t let go of Mamie’s hand, though.

  “Everyone.” Patrick lifted his hands as if in supplication. “We have some good news. First, the ventilation system is working. We aren’t getting any readings of high gas.”

  A round of applause met that bit of information. Julia stood, waiting for the rest. Dreading anything but news that they’d found them.

  “I’m not going to lie to you. I already promised that,” he began. Julia groaned. Just say it, she wanted to scream.

  The news wasn’t as bad as she’d anticipated. One of the pumps had given out, but they were shipping another one in from just across the county line.

  “We’ve located the cavern where the men are most likely trapped.” Patrick paused, waiting for the crowd to stop murmuring.

  One of the men with Patrick moved forward and launched into an explanation of how they were going to try something different as Patrick stepped down. Julia understood about half of it, and wasn’t sure she wanted to know the how of it. She just wanted them to tell her when. To tell her if there was anything to even hope for.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Jack.” Patrick met Jack Sinclair’s gaze. Jack was standing at the front of the group. “We do have a solution. Something they didn’t have back in eighty-five when the Wilson Mine blew.” Memories of that failed rescue still haunted so many in the mining industry.

  “Thank God,” Jack whispered.

  “There’s a type of drill they used up in Quecreek. It goes down from the surface straight into the cavern. It’ll carve a hole in the earth big enough to pull them out.”

  Julia recalled the heroics of Quecreek. The round-the-clock digging, the drill that broke and was fixed by a team within hours. Every mining disaster since then had fallen short of Quecreek’s success. She tried not to think about that.

  “We don’t have it here,” Jack pointed out.

  “It’s on the way. It’ll be here in three hours.”

  “Three hours?” Rachel Sinclair abruptly sat on a metal folding chair. She hooked an arm over her belly, hugging her unborn child. “They could be dead by then.”

  “No.” Patrick shook his head. “We’ve calculated it. We think they’ll be fine then…if they’re fine now.”

  What he didn’t say, every face in the room showed. But were they okay now? That was the million-dollar question. One none of them could—or would—answer.

  “This is the only solution we can come up with right now,” Patrick continued. “When the drill gets here, we’re going to set it up on the other side of the north ridge. You won’t be able to see it from here.”

  “Why there?” Rita asked.

  “They’re in the back half of the mine,” her husband told her, his voice thick with fear. “They ain’t coming out the mouth.”

  “You’re right, Jack,” Patrick continued. “We can’t get to them from the current opening to the mine. They’ll be coming up through a rescue shaft we’ll be drilling. We’ll keep you posted.”

  While no one broke into cheers, there were no breakdowns either. Everyone just stood waiting, as if maybe there would be more and yet knowing there wasn’t.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I know anything.” With that, Patrick and his men were gone.

  Julia sank back to her seat. Mamie sat more slowly.

  “Well, that’s that.” The older woman looked suddenly very tired.

  “Have you eaten anything?”

  “No.”

  “We need to keep up our strength.” Now who was taking care of whom?

  “My thoughts exactly.” A man’s voice startled them both. Julia turned to find Trish and her father standing behind them. They each held steaming bowls. Walt handed one to Mamie and the other to Julia. They pulled up chairs to form a small circle. No one ate much, just stirred and sipped the warm soup.

  No one spoke. There wasn’t much to say, but for the first time in years, Julia didn’t feel so alone.

  Thursday Night, Ten Hours Underground

  LINC AWOKE SUDDENLY. It took him ages to remember where he was and to fight the panic that held a hard grip on his chest. He stood, needing to move, to get the dream out of his head. He’d been holding Julia, their bodies close.

  He shook his head to banish the images, then looked around at the other men. “Where’s Mike?” he asked them all, knowing Robert was the most likely to respond.

  Robert was his predictable self. “He went out to stretch his legs a while ago. He’s determined to find a ventilation pipe or something.”

  “How long ago?”

  Gabe checked his watch. “Ten minutes.”

  They hadn’t talked much about trying to find something to tap on. Just like building the walls, it was an old mining standby. They wouldn’t know if anyone heard them, or even if the pipe was still connected to anything, but miners were trained to do it anyway.

  If the rescue crews had the seismic equipment out they’d hear it. Seven raps for a live crew of seven. It was universal and anyone in the industry—or who knew anything about mining—knew what it meant.

  Mike was the most desperate to get out. Linc grabbed his lamp. The battery was low but he had to risk it. Mike had been gone too long.

  He looked around for the meter but didn’t see it. Mike must have taken it with him. Damn. He picked up his breathing apparatus, hoping he wouldn’t find any bad gas, but prepared in case he did.

  Linc trekked down the narrow incline, moving in a hunched duck walk. The pace was slower but one they all did automatically now.

  “Mike?” he called as he reached the end of the tunnel where the vent system
came down. In the faint glow of the lamp, he saw a form huddled beside what looked like a mangled pipe.

  As he drew closer, he saw the ball-peen hammer Ryan had found earlier. It was poised in the air, ready to strike. The hammer hit once, twice, seven times. The peal echoed in the chamber, almost harsh before the walls swallowed the sound.

  “Mike?” Linc called softly. Startled, the young man spun around. The tracks of dampness on his cheeks glistened in the light.

  “What happened?” Linc hurried to him.

  “They’ve got to find us. They got to.” Mike’s voice hitched. “My kid’s coming soon. I gotta be there. I can’t leave Rach to do it all by herself. I just can’t.”

  Mike’s words hit him like a punch to the gut. In that instant, he heard the voice of the man kneeling beside him—and his father’s voice echoing across time.

  Had his father spoken similar words into that other dark cavern? Had he done as Mike was doing, desperately raging to escape and return to his family?

  The anger Linc had carried for years—since his sixteen-year-old self had blamed his father for leaving them—took a fatal blow. All at once he could focus on the man he’d loved and joked with. The man who had taken his sons fishing, thinking it was the thing to do, despite the fact he hated to fish.

  Fiascos of the past suddenly became warm memories of a man trying to be a better father than his had ever been.

  “Mike?” Linc squeezed the other man’s shoulder. “You need to rest. We’ll all take turns doing this. My turn now.” He took the hammer and rapped out the seven-beat tune just as Mike had done. “Go rest.”

  Linc took the gas meter from Mike’s hand and put it back on his pack, where it would stay. He checked it and found the gauge indicated a slight elevation.

  Time was no longer on their side.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Friday Morning, 7:00 a.m.

  ONCE AGAIN, JULIA STOOD at the opening of the tent, staring out across the wide valley. She and the other family members had been stuck in this moth-eaten tent for what seemed like ages. It had been less than a full day.

  They were close enough to see what was happening at the mouth of the mine, but far enough to keep them from interfering with the activities.

  She paced, feeling the cool morning breeze on her face, smelling the rich odor of the newly churned earth. Earth that separated her from Linc, the man she’d been married to for seven years. Her breath caught as the day registered. If she thought about that too much she’d lose control. She had to do something. She turned toward the entrance, propelled by frustration. She intended to run down into the valley and help with the rescue efforts.

  Shirley Wise’s low voice broke into Julia’s thoughts. “Getting in the way won’t help.” Julia looked over to see the older woman blowing on a steaming cup of coffee.

  “I wasn’t going to—”

  “Yes, you were.” The woman smiled, not warmly, and tentatively sipped the brew. “You were about to head down into that valley where all those men will focus more on protecting you than on saving our men.” The accusation was sharp and direct.

  Julia wanted to deny it, then decided not to bother. She didn’t have the energy to argue right now. Why didn’t Shirley like her? Maybe she’d learned of Julia’s background as a mine-owner’s daughter. That animosity was generations in the making and she’d faced it many times in her life. The only other thing Julia could think of was the incident with Ryan. She and Shirley had only crossed paths a half-dozen times since she and Linc had moved here, but nothing else came to mind.

  “Shirley, what did I ever do to make you dislike me?” Julia spoke her thoughts before thinking.

  “Why…I…I don’t dislike you.” Shirley didn’t look Julia in the eye, which was the first clue that she was lying. “Maybe dislike is the wrong word. But you definitely don’t trust me.”

  Shirley took a deep swallow of her coffee and Julia was surprised she didn’t wince. It had to be hot. Finally, she met Julia’s gaze. “You shake things up. You’re the kind of person who comes in and makes changes.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Julia couldn’t think of what she’d done that might have had any direct impact on Shirley or Gabe Wise.

  “There’s plenty wrong with that.” Shirley’s voice rose, then, looking over her shoulder at the crowd behind them, she took a deep, calming breath. “Boys in this town have been going to the mines to help their families for decades.”

  Ah, so this was about Ryan. “Just because it’s always been done, doesn’t make it right.”

  “Humph.” Shirley drank again, her eyes narrowed toward the horizon. “It’s not up to you to decide that. You’ve done enough damage. Don’t you do anything that puts my husband in more danger.” Without waiting for Julia to respond, Shirley sank back into the confines of the tent, leaving Julia alone to stare after her in shock.

  In one aspect, Shirley was right. Julia had never been the type to sit back and accept the status quo. She’d always questioned and wanted to make things better for people. She didn’t think she’d ever been militant or pushy, but she did prod and work at something until she got what she wanted. Obviously, that had upset people.

  She couldn’t regret it, though. When it came to Ryan, or any of the other boys she taught, she’d do the same thing all over again. Maybe if they’d listened to her, Ryan wouldn’t be trapped right now, possibly dead.

  Shirley’s warning not to interfere warred with Julia’s panic and the need she felt to do something to help. She turned away from the view of the valley, away from the temptation of the rescue effort, and went back inside. Shirley was right. Those workers would try to take care of her, and they couldn’t afford that distraction.

  But she had to do something. The soft patter of raindrops hit the canvas and she watched tiny rivers fall down the plastic windows in the sides of the tent.

  Struggling against despair, she pulled her gaze from the quickly dampening world to look around the makeshift room.

  There were six other women here whose men were trapped below. Friends and relatives grouped together around the others, whispering and trying to keep their words unheard.

  Julia was the only one here alone. Her parents were on their way from Philadelphia, or at least that’s what they’d said. She glanced at her watch. They should arrive in about an hour. But they weren’t here yet.

  She’d always thought she wanted to be on her own. To be independent. Since meeting Linc, she’d forgotten how lonely alone could be. In the past few days, in that empty apartment, her anger had kept the loneliness at bay. Now she felt it circling her.

  “Be careful what you wish for.” She heard a voice that sounded too much like Linc’s, as if his ghost were whispering on the wind.

  “No.” She almost screamed, afraid that thinking such a thing would somehow make it true.

  Whether it was the cold of the rain, or the chill of her own thoughts, she shivered and wished for warmth, for someone’s arms to hold her.

  Could she and Linc fix what was wrong between them? Would he ever hold her again? The thought hurt and she choked back a gasp. She realized that, over time, she’d taken his presence, his touch, him for granted. Once, when their relationship was young, she’d desperately wanted him and his touch. She’d have done just about anything to get it.

  Now, she’d walked away from everything.

  Friday Morning, Seventeen Hours Underground

  LINC SAT AT THE EDGE of the shelter. The others were nearby, but he felt alone.

  He pulled the heavy helmet off his head. He wore it often, but not all day like the other guys. It strained his neck and shoulders. His hair was damp from sweat and he raked his fingers through it, trying to ease the grimy feeling. What he wouldn’t give for a shower right now.

  He must look like hell, but what did it matter? He shifted, trying to get more comfortable. Once again his thoughts turned to Julia.

  Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back. He rubbed his hands
over his face, hoping to wipe off some of the grit, as well as to wipe the hurt from his features.

  Now, when he was staring his mortality in the eyes, he kept forgetting that he was angry with her.

  That she’d lied to him.

  That she’d left him.

  He needed to hang on to that anger because what if she wasn’t up there waiting when he got out of here? What was he supposed to do then?

  How was he supposed to rebuild his life without her in it? He couldn’t return to the emptiness he’d faced after she’d left. But would he even have a choice?

  After she’d lost the baby he’d tried to help her. Like taking her away to that cabin for a long weekend. Time had passed. He’d thought she was better. Obviously she wasn’t, if she’d switched jobs. What had she said? Something about not being around the little kids.

  She hadn’t even told him at the time. Maybe she’d been like him. Unsure what to say, knowing that any thing said at that moment would have far-reaching consequences.

  What had happened to them? She’d completely changed her life without even bothering to ask his opinion or discuss it with him. When had she grown so distant?

  He’d always thought she leaned on him, counted on him. He’d always wanted to be there for her.

  But apparently she didn’t need him anymore.

  “Help me out here!” Gabe’s voice brought Linc abruptly back to the present. Casey was thrashing in his sleep. Robert grabbed his arms, and Linc helped the older man stabilize his injured leg again. They were all panting from the exertion when they were finished. Casey settled back to sleep and Linc slumped against the wall.

  The arguments and rift between him and Julia returned to where it should be…a lifetime ago, maybe even someone else’s lifetime. If—no, when—they got out of here, he had a hell of a lot of work ahead.

  Friday Morning—9:00 a.m.

  “WHERE’S MY LITTLE GIRL?”