Angel Smits - A Message for Julia

AMessageforJuliaHis voice whispered in her head
Julia repeated his name, praying that somehow that could make Linc materialize
there before her. For the first time in weeks she closed her eyes and pictured
his face. Not the face that had been lined with anger and red with rage as he
argued with her. Not the face of the man who silently drank his coffee each
morning before work and barely spoke to her. Not the face of the man who’d
stridden from the house the other night.
She saw the boy she’d fallen in love with back in high school. The boy she’d
stayed up late with cramming for finals in college. The man whose face shone in
completion as he made love to her.

Dear Reader,
Whenever a catastrophe strikes, the media are quick to descend, and we often see
events as they happen. During the Sago Mine disaster in 2006, one picture of a
woman crumbling into tears touched my heart. I wanted to put my arms around her
and comfort her. She stayed with me over the next few days and I wondered about
her, about her story.
She developed into Julia. I could see that Julia cared deeply—it was etched into
the pain on her face in that picture. Linc soon appeared, and I knew their story
was powerful. From there the words and images came—of a tough breed of people
who go to work each day and risk their lives. And while I can’t understand how
they can bear to let their loved ones go, I know many families do just that each
and every day. Julia and Linc travel a rough road and have to—literally—try to
move a mountain in healing their love. I hope you enjoy reading their story as
much as I have appreciated writing it.
I love to hear from readers. Please feel free to contact me at angelsmits@q.com
or at P.O. Box 63202, Colorado Springs, CO 80962-3202. Follow me on Facebook or
Twitter, as well.
Happy reading!
Angel Smits
A Message for Julia
Angel Smits

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Angel Smits’s background as a geriatric social worker has given her a glimpse
into many varied lives and generations. She often finds her characters and
stories in the people she’s met. A people watcher, she is frequently at the mall
or nearby bookstore simply observing all the craziness—especially during
Christmas, where there’s so much to see. Angel has received Romance Writers of
America’s Golden Heart Award and has previously published two paranormal
romances and several nonfiction articles. A Message for Julia is her first book
for Harlequin Superromance. Angel lives in Colorado with her husband and
soon-to-be-moving-out son and daughter. The cat and dog plan to stay.
For all the men who go to work each day and face the danger, and the women who
kiss them goodbye and let them go.
Pat, you would have loved this one.
The mimosas are on me.
And Ron. Simply—thank you!
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
Thursday Afternoon, 3:00 p.m.
NORMALLY THE SMELL OF CHALK dust comforted Julia Holmes, but not today. Maybe
never again.
Shaking her head, she turned back to the blackboard and finished erasing the
scrawled lessons, wishing she could erase the day’s events just as easily.
The letter of reprimand from the school board lay on her desk, as disturbing to
her peace of mind as the empty seat in the second row.
She’d only been trying to help.
Ryan Sinclair, one of her students, had dropped out of school last week to take
a job at the mine. She’d tried to talk some sense into him. He was bright and
talented with too much potential to be stuck working in a coal mine the rest of
his life. The school board hadn’t appreciated her “meddling” as they called it,
and the letter on her desk told her so quite clearly.
Her presence was requested at tomorrow night’s school-board meeting. She
swallowed the lump of apprehension that threatened to choke her.
A cough in the doorway pulled her out of her thoughts. Julia turned to see Missy
Watson standing there. The girl had been quiet in class today, and Julia was
surprised to see tears in her eyes now. “Missy? Are you okay?” She stepped
around to the front of the desk.
A sob ripped from Missy’s throat. Dropping the eraser, Julia hurried to her.
Tears cut pale tracks in her too-heavy makeup.
“What’s the matter?” Julia spoke softly, carefully, laying a hand on her
student’s arm.
“It’s…it’s all my fault.”
“What’s your fault?”
“The whole mess you’re in. With Ryan.”
Understanding dawned. Julia gently squeezed the arm she held. “It’s okay,
Missy.” Obviously talk had gotten around about the reprimand she’d received. Or,
at the very least, the tongue-lashing the principal had given her. She’d known
last week that news of Ryan’s father’s blowup had been all over the school.
All because she’d cared.
“No, it’s not.” Missy dissolved into tears again. “I didn’t really want him to
leave. But…but…”
Julia’s heart ached for the girl. She remembered all too clearly being seventeen
and feeling as if the world rested on your every decision.
Despite the warnings against touching students, Julia slipped her arms around
Missy’s slim shoulders.
“I teased him.” Missy’s voice wobbled. “He asked me to the prom and I said no.”
The last word was more a wail than anything.
“Oh, I’m sure he recovered from that.” Teenagers and dating. It was a minefield,
and while Julia wanted to help Missy, she knew better than to venture in too
far. Besides, she wasn’t exactly qualified to give advice about love. She
hastily put thoughts of her own marriage out of her mind.
“No. I…I told him I didn’t want to date boys. I wanted to go out with a man. But
that’s not true. I really like him.”
“Oh, dear.” Julia could imagine the slap in the face those words had been.
“It’s not your fault he left school. It’s mine.” She sobbed into Julia’s collar.
“And now you’re in trouble and might lose your job.”
Missy’s guilt seemed all too powerful right then. Julia knew she needed to ease
the girl’s tears, though she hoped Missy had learned something from this. Maybe
she’d think twice before spouting off hurtful remarks in the future. “I’m not
going to lose my job.” Julia wasn’t sure who needed to believe it more, her or
Missy.
“You’re not?” Missy pulled back and looked up. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re the
best teacher. I’m doing lousy in all my other classes.”
She wasn’t doing that well in this one, either, but Julia left that unsaid.
Missy hastily wiped her face. Smudges of black mascara ringed her damp blue
eyes.
“To be honest, Missy, I’d do it again.” And she would. “Sometimes you have to
fight for the things you care about.”
Missy seemed to consider that. “So, you think I should fight for Ryan?”
“Well…” Julia wasn’t getting sucked in again. She’d already done enough damage
by trying to give a kid advice. “That’s up to you. Just think about it.”
“I will. Thanks, Mrs. Holmes. You’re the best.”
Before Julia could say anything more, Missy headed to the door and probably
straight to the restroom to fix her makeup. Ah, the resilience of youth.
Julia returned to her desk and sank into her chair, wishing she were as
resilient as Missy. She stared at the letter, not really seeing it, not needing
to read the words. Despite what she’d told Missy, she could lose her job.
She looked out the window of her classroom. From the third floor, she could see
most of Parilton, Pennsylvania, with its clapboard houses and tree-lined
streets. The dark silhouette of the Winding Trail Mine sat at the edge of town,
mother hen and vulture all in one. Just as it overshadowed the town, it touched
every life in Parilton, including hers.
Her husband, Linc, was working up there today, as he’d been, on and off, for
several weeks. New equipment going in meant inspection after inspection, all his
responsibility. It was another in a long list of things that kept him away from
home.
She’d hardly seen him in weeks, it seemed. She missed him, and that knowledge
bothered her more than she wanted it to. What was worse was the realization that
she had to talk to Linc about the letter. About the whole mess.
She’d finally have to tell him about the job change she’d made last month. She’d
meant to tell him about it earlier but had never quite found the right moment.
She knew she should have tried harder—waited up when he came in late, woken him
before she left in the morning, or found a way to meet for lunch.
But she hadn’t quite figured out what to say, or how to explain it to him. She
didn’t even understand it herself. And since they barely spoke these days
anyway, keeping silent was just easier.
Until today, she’d thought it was the right decision.
Friday Morning, 5:30 a.m.
THE ALARM CLATTERED at oh-dark-thirty. Julia rolled over and smacked the off
button, hoping she’d permanently disabled the thing. She opened one eyelid then
slammed it shut again
She did not want to face today.
Linc’s even breathing broke the quiet of the room, and she turned to look at him
in the dim morning light. She’d tried to stay awake last night to talk to him,
but the long hours and stress had taken their toll. Either she had become so
used to Linc coming in late, or he was getting better at being quiet.
Maybe she’d wait until tomorrow, when they were both home and not working, to
tell him. After she knew the results of tonight’s meeting. No, that would only
make matters worse.
“Hey,” she said softly and waited. No answer. She said it again, louder.
“You say something?” he mumbled.
“Yeah. Are you awake?” She waited for him to wake enough to understand what she
was saying. He didn’t stir and she knew she’d lost the battle. Rather than try
again, Julia climbed out of bed, throwing the covers aside and silently hoping
the cool air would startle him awake.
For a long moment, Julia stared down at the mussed bed and grieved the loss of
the days when she’d wake him early for an entirely different purpose. With a
sigh, she abandoned those thoughts and headed downstairs to make breakfast. She
needed something to do to keep her mind and hands busy.
She threw on her robe, letting it hang open, the belt trailing behind. What was
the point of looking presentable when she was alone with no one to appreciate
her? She shook her head; she needed coffee to chase away the pity party in her
mind.
Bitter caffeine, tempered by sugar and cream, caressed her tongue. She stood at
the kitchen window and gazed over the rim of her coffee cup at the house across
the street. The neighbors were a young couple. All their windows were still
dark. Were they asleep? Or had morning come for them as well and their bed was
still cozy and inviting? She closed her eyes…wishing.
Wishing for what?
For those early days of her marriage before every moment was a struggle? The
days before they’d started talking about a family?
She heard the footstep an instant before warm, strong arms stole around her
waist.
“You were saying something?” Linc’s voice was thick with sleep, but she sighed
in relief. He’d heard her. On some level he’d been listening.
“Yeah.”
He waited. She took a deep breath.
“I…I quit my job at the elementary school,” she finally whispered.
Linc went absolutely still against her. Julia wasn’t even sure she felt him
breathing.
“What? Why?” He came around to face her. She missed the warmth he’d provided.
She looked up at him. He frowned and leaned back against the counter, crossing
his arms over his bare chest. She couldn’t help but drink in the view of the
lightly tanned plains and valleys sprinkled with dark hair. The jeans he’d
hastily thrown on hung low on his hips.
But the warmth that had been in his body didn’t show on his face. She shivered
and looked down at her coffee. “I can’t do it anymore.”
“Can’t do what? Teach?”
“No. Not teach. I have another job. I can’t be around the little ones.” Her
voice broke on the last words.
“Another job? Where?”
Now she knew she had to look at him. “I’ve been teaching at the high school for
the past month. I’m subbing for an English teacher who’s out on maternity
leave.”
His frown deepened and a flush swept up his face. “A month?” He moved away from
the counter and paced away from her. “When were you going to tell me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t intend not to tell you. I just didn’t know
how to bring it up. You’re so busy—”
“That’s no excuse.”
“I know that.”
The stiff way he held himself told her she’d hit a nerve. They’d never kept
secrets before—before last fall when the whole world had fallen apart.
“There’s more,” Julia said softly, staring out the window instead of at Linc’s
bare chest. She wished he owned a robe. Maybe she’d get him one for Christmas.
Why was she thinking about that now? She knew she was avoiding this, avoiding
talking to him. She didn’t want to discuss the hurt that had never gone away.
“Oh, this should be good.”
His sarcasm irritated her. He’d been sarcastic a lot lately. “Stop it.” She
stepped farther away from him. “I don’t want to argue again. I know I should
have told you sooner and I’m sorry about that, but what’s done is done,” she
said, throwing his favorite phrase back at him. “I don’t know how much longer
I’ll have this job.” Her voice broke, but she refused to give in to her
emotions. Not now.
“What does that mean?” At least the sarcasm was gone.
She swallowed hard. “Yesterday I…I received a letter of reprimand from the
school board. They…they are reviewing my contract at tonight’s meeting.” This
time there was no hiding the hurt in her voice. She didn’t want his pity. She
just wanted him to listen for a change.
“Why?” He drew the word out.
“I tried to convince one of the boys not to quit school to work in the mine. He
was only a few months away from graduating.” Her voice was soft. “His father
went to the school board—but not before reaming me out, of course.”
“Oh, great. Are you crazy? That mine is the lifeblood of this town. Every person
here depends on it.” Linc ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the
coffeemaker. He poured himself a cup and took his time taking that first sip.
“I know that.”
He closed his eyes as if to savor his coffee, or to ignore her. “So you’re
trying to go up against the mine management. It was Ryan Sinclair, wasn’t it?”
“You heard about it?”
“Half the town heard Jack Sinclair running off at the mouth. I didn’t know he
was talking about you. Ryan’s working up at the mine now. I gather your little
talk didn’t convince him.”
“No.” She winced. She’d always found it hard to admit her failures.
The kitchen fell silent, heavy with unsaid words as they both nursed cooling
cups of coffee.

WHO WAS THIS WOMAN standing in his kitchen? Linc couldn’t help but stare at
Julia.
She’d been edgy lately and he’d known something was wrong. But he’d learned
years ago not to push her. Right now she looked a mess—a
just-waking-up-in-the-morning mess—but still a mess. Her hair was mussed and her
robe hung open to show the shorts and T-shirt she’d slept in. He let his gaze
linger on her curves…wishing…
When the hell had they grown so far apart that he couldn’t even touch his wife
when he wanted to?
Like now.
“You could—” She stepped toward him. “Could you put something about how it’s not
safe for kids to work in the mines in your report?”
He stared at her, incredulous. “No.”
“Why not?”
His anger surprised him. She’d always had her causes and another thing he’d
learned was to take cover when she started talking about one of them. Why
couldn’t they have a conversation anymore without one of them getting angry? He
forced himself to focus, to tamp down his reaction. “For one, I’m not willing to
risk my career for someone else’s problem. And this isn’t your business. One of
us has to keep working and feed us.”
“And two?” she bit out.
“I don’t agree with you. Ryan is old enough to make his own decisions.
“He’s only seventeen.”
“When I was seventeen, I was on my own. At least he has parents to turn to,
which he did.”
“They don’t understand—”
“No, Julia. You don’t understand. Ever since…since…last fall…” His voice
wavered, but he quickly caught himself. “You want to fix everyone else’s life.
Take care of every lost soul that crosses your path.” He stepped closer to her,
lowering his voice, hoping to ease the tension between them. “Maybe you should
focus on your own problems and your own life for a change.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Whoever told you life was fair? It sure as hell wasn’t me.”
He closed his eyes for an instant trying to clear his mind. His life had never
been even close to fair. But what bothered him most was the fact she’d kept all
of this—her new job and this crisis—a secret from him. They’d never had secrets.
When he’d first heard Jack, he realized now, some part of his brain had thought
it sounded like Julia. But he’d dismissed it because he’d thought she was still
teaching at the elementary school. Now he wasn’t as shocked as he should be.
“Julia, don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” She actually sounded surprised.
“This. It’s not your battle.”
“I disagree.” She stomped across the kitchen and stared out the back window.
The distance between them was too great. He had to find a way across it. “Tell
me why you left the elementary school.” He did not want to start this
conversation, but it now seemed inevitable.
“I couldn’t do it. Because…it…it just wasn’t for me.” She fidgeted with the belt
of her robe.
Linc hated seeing the forlorn look on her face. He ached to pick her up, carry
her away and fix it all. He also knew she’d resist that and probably deck him in
the process. “I can be there tonight.”
She looked up, and he thought she was going to smile. He held his breath,
waiting. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly smiled.
“But I’m not promising anything else.” He couldn’t do more than that.
She nodded and turned away again.
Linc went back upstairs, back to bed for a couple hours. He wished she’d join
him, but he knew better. She’d have to call in sick to work and she took her
commitments seriously—too seriously sometimes.
The sheets were too damned cold.
CHAPTER TWO
Friday Evening, 7:00 p.m.
THE CAFETERIA WAS FULL, but not so full that it was intimidating. Julia looked
around. She knew most of these people, some by name but more by face.
The six-member school board sat up front at a couple of the lunch tables that
had been turned sideways. The twenty or so other people sat at tables where her
students usually hung out laughing and eating lunch. It was a small town. A
relatively small school. Nothing fancy.
A few more people filed in and Julia leaned forward. Where was he? Her heart
sank. She didn’t want to think that Linc had broken his promise, but he did have
a habit of getting caught up in work at times and forgetting things—like dinner.
The board had reviewed the budget, rehashed the booth at the county fair and had
just started to go over the upcoming end-of-year graduation activities when the
door creaked open.
Julia fought her smile. She’d always prided herself on being independent. She
didn’t want people to think she was one of those women who couldn’t survive
without a man. But knowing that Linc had come to support her made something
inside her shift, something warm. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do this alone
anymore. He wound his way into the room and took the seat beside her.
After another ten minutes, the meeting seemed to be winding down. Julia fought
not to get her hopes up. Maybe they’d forget about her contract.
“One final item,” a woman at the end of the table said. Julia craned her neck to
see. She recognized her. She knew Shirley Wise from various events as well as
from when she’d interviewed for the job at the high school.
“Is Julia Holmes here?” Shirley looked directly at her.
“I’m here.” Julia remained seated and Linc nudged her with his elbow.
“Stand up,” he muttered.
Julia frowned at him, but stood rather than have anyone around them hear her
argue.
“We’ve reviewed your contract and the letter of reprimand.” Shirley looked over
her half glasses at Julia. “Both will stand, barring any further incidents.
Thank you, everyone—”
That was it? She wasn’t going to get the chance to speak? People around her
looked confused and disapproving. Many probably already knew what had happened,
others were totally clueless and were thinking the worst of her. Julia wanted to
have her chance to defend herself and her actions.
“Julia, shhh,” Linc said softly. He knew her too well, but he should also know
she wasn’t going to back down.
“I’d like to have my say.”
“It won’t make a difference.”
Shocked, she turned to stare down at him. What did he mean it wouldn’t make a
difference? To him? To the school board? To her?
Before she could recover and respond to Shirley, the crowd stood and the board
members were heading to the door. Her heart sank and her anger rose. She glared
at Linc, knowing disappointment fueled her ire.
She was a good teacher, she knew that. She’d worked so hard for and at this job.
She loved her students. She stared at Linc. He didn’t meet her gaze. He was
chatting with the woman beside him, making casual conversation about the
weather. Totally unaware that his actions were what hurt the most.
Suddenly, she realized he no longer believed in her.

LINC KNEW HE WAS in serious trouble, knew from a lifetime of experience and
seven years of living with Julia that he was in deep. What he didn’t know was
how to fix it. The helplessness he felt had become familiar over the past
several months. He knew he should face it head-on, but instead, he let the woman
beside him go on and on about the dry spell they were having. He couldn’t have
cared less about the weather.
The crowd thinned, and he waited for Julia to head to the door. He turned to
look at her and immediately regretted the impulse. She was ticked, all right.
But even worse was the pain he saw lurking behind the anger in her eyes. His
heart sank. Maybe there was no fixing any of this.
They drove home separately. He followed her SUV in his truck. Her taillights
burned red as they drove through town where few streetlights had come on. In the
distance, the glow of the mine created a halo on the horizon. His mind wandered
to the work he had to get done up there tomorrow.
He suddenly felt very tired.
Linc pulled in beside her in the garage. Even before he’d opened his door, she
was out of her car and the force of her door slamming shook the entire vehicle.
She stomped up the two steps to the house and slammed that door, too.
Linc just sat there staring at the closed door. He briefly wondered if she’d
locked him out. He cursed. He did not want to go into that house. If he did,
what would he say? What would she say?
He knew it would take a while for her to cool down. Maybe he should just spend
the night here in the truck. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Long moments passed. Long silent moments. Slowly, the door opened. Julia stood
there in the opening, the kitchen light haloing her just as the mine’s lights
had haloed the skyline earlier.
He couldn’t see her features clearly in the shadow, but her arms were crossed
over her chest. She stood facing him, probably glaring at him, for a minute,
then she spun on her heel. At least she didn’t slam the door this time but he
knew he was no more welcome now than he had been before.
Well, hell, he cursed silently. He’d spent the past seven months walking on
eggshells around her, being cautious of her feelings, trying to fix everything.
Why did he always have to be the good guy?
He shoved the truck door open, smacking it into the side of her car, not caring
if he left a ding, not caring about anything all of a sudden. He walked slowly
into the house, closing the door and deliberately locking it up for the night as
he always did.
Finally, he faced his wife. She stood by the window, staring out at the
backyard. He walked over to the fridge and opened it, the light harsh in the
growing shadows, and grabbed a beer. The sizzle-pop as he broke the seal was
loud. His swallow seemed loud in his head, but probably wasn’t. The drink sat
heavy in his gut.
“Go ahead, get it over with.” He sighed and took another painful gulp. Her
silence tore through the night and through him.

JULIA WANTED TO HIT HIM. Where that reaction came from she didn’t know, but
suddenly she realized how far apart they’d grown. How distant they were. For the
first time in all the years they’d been married, she doubted they’d be together
forever. All these painful months, she’d thought they’d find their way back to
each other. But she couldn’t do this anymore, and apparently neither could he.
Linc walked over to the trash and tossed the empty beer bottle inside. He headed
for the doorway, but stopped when he reached it. His back was to her, and the
way he braced his shoulders told her he was far from done.
She was right. He didn’t turn around but the voice that came from his throat was
nothing like she’d ever heard before. It tore at her heart. “Maybe God was being
kind when he took the baby away.” He took a few more steps. “Maybe we weren’t
ever supposed to be a family.”
He went into the living room and she stood there, as frozen as if he’d slapped
her. Linc had hurt her before, but this was worse than anything she’d
experienced. Not only because he’d set out to hurt her. But because he had
wounded himself in the same instant he’d lashed out at her.
He was halfway to the front door before she was able to speak. “Why did you even
bother coming tonight?” She followed him. “Shushing me isn’t being exactly
supportive.”
“Support? Is that all you want from me? Just my support?” He said the last word
as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “I went to make sure you didn’t screw up
and get fired. And you would have if you’d opened your mouth.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Don’t I? Don’t you?”
Anger and pain crashed through her. “Damn you, Linc. I…I hate you.” The words
burst out, driven by the frustration that had built over the past seven months.
He turned back to face her, his hand curling around the doorknob. “That makes
two of us.”
He didn’t say any more, but the spark of fury that flashed in his eyes hurt.
Something drove her to want to hurt him back. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this
anymore.”
“Can’t do what?” He let go of the knob, all six-feet-two inches of him moving to
within touching distance. “Keep working at our marriage?”
Julia almost reached out to him, but couldn’t seem to remember how. For months
they’d been so distant, she’d forgotten what it felt like to be comfortable with
him. An ache grew inside and she just wanted it all to go away.
“I’d say you quit working at it a long time ago.” Linc glared at her. “You
didn’t even tell me you’d left your job a month ago!”
“I intended to tell you.”
“Yeah, right.” He moved away again.
“Oh, and you’re any better?” She stomped toward him. “You won’t even discuss
going to see a fertility specialist. I want a family, Linc.”
“And I’d be happy just to have a wife at this point.” His breath came in deep
gulps. The air in the room crackled with anger. With frustration. With wanting
something—anything else.
The hardness in his eyes wasn’t something Julia had ever seen before. He was
silent so long that she turned back to the kitchen.
His voice came out so softly, she’d have missed it if she’d gone any farther.
“You’ve already left me,” he whispered.
She heard the door open and spun around to watch him disappear into the shadows
of the front porch.
His words sounded final. Permanent. Wrong.
But wasn’t that what she wanted, what she needed to get herself and her life
back on track? Lifting her chin, Julia stared after him, then turned on her heel
and hurried to the bedroom.
She yanked an overnight bag from the closet and shoved a change of clothes,
toiletries and little else into it. “Damn you, Linc,” she muttered.
Why didn’t he come back into the house? Was he just going to let her go? She
didn’t hear the roar of his truck’s engine, so she knew he was still here.
Fine, if that’s how he wanted it, she’d leave.
She grabbed her purse and her car keys and ran, as best she could with the
suitcase in her hand, back to the garage. Her car still pinged, cooling from her
trip home. The dome light washed out the open door, almost welcoming. The
starter ground painfully and her tires squealed on the pavement.
She tried not to look back. She simply glanced in the rearview mirror, catching
a final, fleeting look at the tiny house she loved so much. She tore her gaze
away. All her dreams lay back there, shattered and lost.
A sob broke loose from her throat, and Julia let it settle in the night air.
Where was she going? What was she supposed to do now? There wasn’t a single
person in this godforsaken town she could turn to.
She drove to the edge of town, out near the interstate where a few hotels sat
scattered along the worn highway. The Holiday Inn was the first one she reached,
and she checked in.
Nothing was ever going to be the same again.
Sunday Afternoon, 5:30 p.m.
LINC DOUBTED THERE had ever been a game of chess played anywhere near the Chess
Club. But the picture of a Black Queen chess piece looked cool on the old tavern
sign. He stepped inside, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness.
Miners came here after every shift. Since moving here, he’d gotten into the
habit of stopping in once or twice a week to meet up with some of the guys. He’d
started doing it to try to build relationships. Now, he just needed company.
Art and Luther, old men who’d put in their time at the mines and now enjoyed
retirement, sat in their usual seats at the end of the bar. Grant, the owner,
stood behind the bar, perpetually polishing glasses. It all felt so normal.
Linc was the one out of kilter. He claimed a barstool and ordered a beer. He’d
downed half of it before a hand clapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey, buddy. Where the hell you been?” Mark Thompson, a miner he’d become
friends with since he’d started coming here, smiled at him. He and Mark had
developed a friendship of sorts, based mainly on their love of football and
failure at darts. Mark climbed up on the barstool beside him and ordered a
repeat of Linc’s drink.
“Been busy.” Linc had thought he wanted someone to talk to, anything but the
silence of the house without Julia, but now he realized that talking was one
thing he didn’t want to do.
“Yeah, I heard about what happened at the meeting. Bet your wife is ticked.”
That was putting it mildly. “Yeah.” He took another deep swallow of his beer.
“She’ll get over it. You up for a game?” Mark tilted his head toward the
dartboard. Linc just shook his head.
“Too bad. I was in the mood to kick your butt.” Mark drank his own beer with a
smile.
They sat in silence for a long while. Linc had just finished his beer when the
door opened. His gaze met Mark’s in the mirror. Darlene sauntered in. Mark’s
eyes lit up while Linc groaned. He wasn’t up for her and her shenanigans. She
knew Mark had a thing for her, and every time Linc came in she played this
stupid game of coming on to him. All to make Mark jealous.
“Hey, guys.” She took the stool on the opposite side of Linc. He didn’t even
look at her, but watched Mark eyeballing her in the mirror. He should just get
up and leave, but going back to the empty house didn’t appeal to him at all.
“Hey, Grant, give me another one.”
“I heard some news.” Darlene leaned over to Linc, staring straight into his
eyes. “I hear your wife tore out of your driveway the other night and hasn’t
been back since.” She gently rested her hand on his forearm as though to comfort
him, but Linc felt she wanted more.
He swallowed hard, but didn’t look at her. He did not need this. Grant set the
beer in front of him and he resisted the urge to drain the glass. “Who’ve you
been talking to?”
“Oh, people around.” She grinned, as if she knew she held a morsel of truth.
“That true?” Mark sounded upset by the news. Linc didn’t know if it was because
he hadn’t told him, or because now he saw Linc as a real threat to his chances
with Darlene.
“We just had a fight,” Linc said through clenched teeth. “We’ll be fine.” He
wondered if they knew he was lying.
“That’s not what people are saying.” Darlene smiled too brightly. She leaned
against him now, her breast brushing against his arm so slightly it could almost
have been an accident. He swallowed hard and mentally cursed. This wasn’t
happening. He took another swig of his beer and nonchalantly scooted away from
her.
Mark leaned forward, trying to get Darlene’s attention. “What’s wrong with you,
girl? Can’t you see the man’s in no mood for your company?”
“This isn’t any of your business.” She leaned forward, pressing against Linc
more deliberately this time.
Darlene wasn’t a bad person, and in another life he might actually have been
attracted to her.
Anger pulsed through him. In all the years he’d been with Julia, he’d been
faithful to her. He’d never cheated, never even thought about it. And where had
that gotten him? Seven years of marriage down the tubes and an empty house
waiting for him.
He looked at Darlene. What if…
“I’m going home.” He stood and Darlene climbed down from the stool. “Alone.” He
headed to the door and didn’t bother looking back. He knew there wasn’t anyone
he wanted except Julia. And he might spend the rest of his life wanting
something he couldn’t have.
For five days, Linc waited for Julia to come back. He went to work every
morning, expecting her to be there when he returned each night. Her spot in the
garage remained tauntingly empty.
He called everyone they knew—and that was damned few people here in town. No one
had heard from her. She hadn’t contacted anyone, except to call in sick to work.
On Wednesday night he found the light on the answering machine blinking when he
walked in the door. He pushed Play and Julia’s voice filled the house, banishing
the shadows that threatened to take over. He held his breath as he listened.
“Linc, I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon to pick up the rest of my things.” That was
it. Nothing more.
He played the message five times before grabbing the machine and throwing it
across the room. It shattered against the dining-room wall. He felt only
marginally better.
He called her cell phone—again. It went straight to voice mail, which told him
she’d turned it off. There was nothing else he could do.
Except wait.
He cursed and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Damn it all. He needed oblivion.
And he certainly didn’t need half the town watching him find it.
By Thursday, when he pulled into the dirt parking lot of the Winding Trail Mine
ten minutes early to shadow the afternoon shift, he was exhausted.
He wanted to finish this job and get home in time to catch Julia. He needed to
do something—talk to her—anything to figure out how to make things better. There
was too much anger between them and he didn’t like it. To be honest, he was
downright sick of it. They were facing some tough decisions and he just wanted
it done.
Linc had always been the type who yanked off a bandage. It hurt like hell but
then it was over. None of this slow, methodical agony. If his marriage was going
to end, he wanted that flash of pain, not this ongoing hurt.
Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind of all those thoughts. He had a job
to do and it required focus. He got out of the truck and reached into the bed to
grab his gear before mounting the rough wooden steps to the mine office.
The faded, worn building, the size of a double-wide trailer, had two shabby
offices in front and a larger room beyond. In the back room, which served as a
locker room, he met up with the crew he’d been assigned to shadow.
Six men looked up when he walked in. They were nearly finished dressing in their
long johns, flannel shirts and coveralls. Now that he was here, they would go
underground.
Linc hustled to dress as they introduced themselves. He recognized Gabe Wise,
the crew chief, from his previous visit. Linc immediately realized why the older
man was in charge. They were a young crew and Gabe had nearly twenty years
experience.
Robert Hastings, a gruff man who looked to be in his early forties, simply
nodded when Linc acknowledged him. Ah, a man of few words. Then there were
brothers Michael and Ryan Sinclair. He already knew them. All too well. The
fight with Julia after the school-board meeting came back to him. What a mess.
As long as Ryan was old enough, there wasn’t anything Linc could do. The law
said he only had to stay in school until he was sixteen.
At least Ryan was on a crew with his older brother who could keep an eye on him.
Linc guessed the other members of the group, Casey McGuire and Zach Hayes, were
in their late twenties. Obviously friends, they joked with the rest of the men
but kept just enough apart to show they weren’t yet a cohesive team.
All dressed and accounted for, they donned hard hats, clipped fresh batteries to
their tool belts and climbed aboard the transport—a flatbed cart they called a
man-trap. Linc hefted his backpack, his unofficial briefcase for trips down into
the mines, up on his shoulder. Passing into the yawning mouth of the mine, he
cringed. God, he hated this part. His heart and breath hitched at the thought of
the tons of rock over his head. A normal reaction, he knew, but still he felt it
tight in his gut.
The heavy damp scent of earth surrounded him. It felt as if he was stepping into
a half-dug grave. That was one reason why he was an inspector and not a workaday
miner. His goal was to keep these men safe—unlike the mine inspectors of old
who’d failed his father.
The instant they were inside, Linc’s gaze darted around, scanning the low
ceiling, the thick walls and the equipment they passed. There were several
things he wanted to examine more closely on the trip out. But on the whole, he’d
seen worse.
Nearly half an hour later, Gabe spoke. “Here we are.” His voice soaked into the
dark walls. He jumped from the transport as deftly as a man half his age and the
others followed, forming a line that seemed preordained. They finished the last
few yards on foot.
Each man went to his position as Linc watched, taking mental and written notes.
The machines roared to life as the crew started to dig for the rich, black coal.
The engines’ noise prevented conversation, but the miners managed to communicate
through gestures and the simple fact that they knew their jobs and their places.
With the light from his hard hat guiding him, Linc moved around the cavern,
examining, checking and letting his skeptical mind search for any indication of
sloppiness or intentional violations. A loud metallic chink shattered the din.
The pitch of the digger’s engines changed and Linc spun around.
The grinding of metal on metal told them the cutting black had hit something
abnormal.
Shit. Gabe looked to the right wall and Linc followed his line of sight but
couldn’t see anything. Suddenly, the roar around them drowned out even the
engines’ noise. Rock tumbled down the face they’d been digging. Linc saw rather
than heard Gabe’s command, “Run!”
Robert scrambled off the loader. Mike grabbed Ryan’s arm in a grip that Linc
knew had to be painful. Gabe waited until all his men were ahead of him. Casey
and Zach were to his left, not moving. Why weren’t they rushing to the exit?
Linc turned and his gaze met Gabe’s. Together, they saw that Casey’s left leg
was trapped beneath the caterpillar track of the scoop. Damn.
Running the few feet, Linc joined Gabe and Robert on the side of the machine.
The three of them pushed but the heavy piece of equipment barely budged. Again
they pushed. Again it barely moved.
Luckily, as they worked to free Casey, no more shale fell around them. But that
was no guarantee it wouldn’t bury them before they took their next dust-laden
breath.
Linc didn’t hear the others approach, but he felt their presence beside him.
Gabe set the pace with an even rhythm and counted it off. On three they all
pushed. Ryan and Mike’s young muscle added to theirs was just enough to tip over
the machine.
Casey grimaced, but he clenched his jaw as he fought crying out. His pain was
palpable in the chamber with them. Looking lower, Linc realized Casey’s leg was
badly mangled.
The roar returned. Gabe waved them on as he shoved his shoulder under Casey’s
armpit.
Zach took the other side. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Together they half carried, half dragged the injured man up the incline.
Suddenly, air whooshed over them. Turning and stumbling backward, Linc watched
as the ebony shale buried the machine. Silence settled with the dust around
them.
Then, another roar… Every inch of ground and air around them trembled. There was
no time to think. Ryan and Mike backpedaled from where a new slide of shale
closed off the opening ahead of them.
Then silence. Heavy silence, almost too quiet to be real, pressed on his ears.
Nothing broke it for a long minute until the sound of their rasping breaths
whispered through the air.
The only light came from the lamps on each hard hat. Beams of white light
bounced back at them from the black dust in the air. Linc tried not to think how
much of that crap was coating the inside of his lungs as he fought to breathe.
Linc moved first, his training kicking in. “I’ll take this side.” He checked the
gas meter in his pack. No danger levels—yet. He kept the meter close.
Removing the lamp from his hard hat, he used it like a flashlight. Ryan and Mike
did the same. Gabe and Zach settled Casey on a level patch of ground, while
Robert tried to activate the emergency radio from Casey’s belt.
Each man quickly took a section of the cavern, ringing it with light, looking
for any indication of a breach in the rock. Linc found nothing. When he rejoined
the others, they all shook their heads.
Even Robert. “Radio’s crushed. I can’t fix it.” He tossed the broken pieces onto
the ground and cursed.
They were well and truly trapped.
The one encouraging thing was that there had been no more rumbles. Obviously,
they’d hit something with the blade, but what? With luck, only this chamber was
affected. Little good that did them. Linc knew from the schematics of the mine
that at least fifty feet of solid rock separated them from any hope of escape.
Gabe hunkered down next to Casey. They all watched his light illuminate Casey’s
leg. The steel-toed boots he wore had protected his foot, but his calf and knee
had been severely chewed up by the tread of the machine. Blood soaked both his
leg and the ground around him.
Gabe loosened Casey’s belt and carefully slipped it off. “I can’t stop the
bleeding with just pressure.” In minutes, he’d wrapped the man’s leg in one of
the thick flannel shirts he’d worn and tightened the belt around his upper
thigh. “I trained as an EMT years back. I hoped I’d never need it,” Gabe said,
pain in his voice. “We’ll have to watch him close.”
At least Casey wasn’t going to bleed to death in front of them. Not yet anyway.
The miners settled back, regrouping, their thoughts probably as disjointed as
Linc’s.
Trapped. They were trapped.
Linc fought the panic that clawed at his chest and knew it was probably a losing
battle. He closed his eyes, picturing the house he had left only a few hours
before. Home. He just wanted to go home.
He didn’t dare picture Julia’s face. That would be his undoing.
CHAPTER THREE
Thursday Afternoon, 4:00 p.m.
JULIA REACHED OVER and turned on the car’s radio. Usually, after a day with her
students, she appreciated the solace of silence. Now she needed something to
drown out her thoughts.
Tomorrow would be her and Linc’s seventh anniversary. Would he even remember? Or
care? She shook her head. Linc might forget, but at one time he had cared. A
lot. She blinked away the sting in her eyes. She refused to let him hurt her
anymore.
Focusing on the road, Julia took in the sights of the small town she’d called
home for just over a year. It seemed as though their problems had all started
when they’d moved here, but she realized it wasn’t the town’s fault. It was
actually a nice little place.
Parilton stood nestled between two hills the locals generously referred to as
mountains. To Julia, who had spent her youth going skiing in the Rocky Mountains
on vacations, they appeared small.
Still, they were familiar, and with spring in full bloom, the entire valley was
green and colorful with blossoms.
The sight helped lift her mood as she hurried across town. She wanted to get to
the house before Linc—her soon-to-be-ex-husband, she reminded herself—got home
from work. She hoped to get all of her things out without facing him.
Why did that thought sit so uncomfortably in her chest? She wasn’t up to another
fight. The last one still hurt, but not to see him?
She drove through the narrow streets of the town. Past the bank—the one and only
bank—past the hardware store, past the Clever Curl Salon. One of the two
stoplights in town turned red just as she reached it. The car stopped, but her
thoughts kept going.
Did she and Linc even have anything left to save? Since they’d moved here,
everything had changed. Without warning, the distant memory of Linc making love
to her filled her mind. She closed her eyes, letting the image of his beautiful
body soak into her internal vision. She could almost feel him, smell his clean
scent, taste his warm breath…
“Oh, my.” Her eyes flew open and she cranked the air conditioning. It had been
too long since they’d had make-up sex. But when they had…
Memories and pain made her step a bit too hastily on the accelerator when the
light changed. She refused to think about that anymore. It hurt too much.
She passed the grocery store and slowed. Parilton wasn’t big enough for more
than one, and it didn’t even merit a national chain. But the local grocer
carried nearly everything anybody needed. The bare cupboards of her newly rented
apartment came too easily to mind.
The empty parking spot in front was like an invitation. She pulled into it and
sat staring through the grimy windshield. She’d never felt so alone.
Minutes later, she was rushing through the aisles, filling the basket with all
the staples to make meals for one and trying to outrun her thoughts. It wasn’t
much, she realized as she looked at the pathetic pile of goods in the basket.
Only one person stood in the checkout line. She could get out of here quickly.
The older woman checking groceries smiled at her. Rita Sinclair was Ryan’s
mother.
Julia’s anger at Linc resurfaced. Why couldn’t his inspection report mention the
number of kids like Ryan working the mine—kids who should be in school? Her
anger was at the system, but he hadn’t helped at the meeting the other night.
When had he lost faith in her?
“Hi, Julia.” Rita smiled as she ran the items across the beeping scanner.
“Hello, Rita. How’s everyone?”
“Fine.” Rita examined the contents of Julia’s basket, left eyebrow rising.
“That’s everything?”
Julia still didn’t like the familiarity of small-town life. That’s why she often
drove into Pittsburgh to do her shopping. “Yes,” she hedged and Rita didn’t make
any more comments. “That’s $27.57.”
Julia handed over two twenties, and, as Rita counted out her change, she curled
her fingers gently around Julia’s hand. Julia looked up and was surprised to see
the sheen in Rita’s eyes.
“I want to thank you for all you did to try to get Ryan to stay in school.”
Julia stared at her in surprise. “I…I wasn’t sure if you agreed.”
“My husband didn’t. He thinks what was good enough for him is good enough for
his boys. I’d like better for them.” Her voice broke on the last words.
“Me, too,” Julia whispered. “I haven’t given up.”
Their eyes met and for a long moment neither spoke. Someone moved into the line,
and Julia didn’t bother looking to see who.
Rita transformed from a mom back into the efficient grocery clerk and handed
Julia her receipt. “You have a nice day.”
“You, too.”
Rita’s words haunted her all the way to the car. That was what she’d tried to
convey to Linc, though not very well. Why couldn’t he understand? Why couldn’t
any of them understand? She quickly put the groceries in the car, avoiding the
pain that went along with those thoughts.
She needed to move on, and today was the day for that to begin.
She drove too fast through town. She wanted this over and done with. Pulling
into the drive, Julia sat there staring at the little house they’d bought within
weeks of moving here.
She’d fallen in love with it the instant she’d seen it. She hated that Linc was
the one still here, but she’d been the one to walk out. She’d left it and him
behind.
The shades were all drawn, which grated on her nerves and gave the house a
dejected look. She loved the shades open, loved watching the sunshine pour in on
the old wood floors. She tore her gaze away and took in the entire place.
It looked sad and neglected. This was ridiculous. She’d only been gone six days.
She shoved the car door open and walked up to the porch. She hesitated when she
pushed the key into the lock then mentally berated herself. This was still her
house, damn it. She stepped inside and decided maybe it wasn’t.
The air was stale and warm. She longed to open the windows to let the rooms
breathe, but she wasn’t planning to be here that long. She turned to finish her
packing but stopped in the bedroom doorway.
Frowning, she stepped inside, over two pairs of Linc’s shoes. Her heart sank.
She’d worked so hard to make this a room for relaxation, for privacy, for
romance.
And now look at it.
“Linc, you idiot,” she whispered. “I can’t believe this.”
The bed wasn’t made, and as she sat down on the rumpled down comforter, she
realized the same sheets were still on the bed as when she’d left. A pile of
clothes grew in the corner by the rocker. Three beer bottles sat on the
nightstand on his side of the bed.
What was wrong with him? He wasn’t the neatest person in the world, but he’d
never been a slob.
And alcohol? He wasn’t one to drink…not in bed…not unless… Suddenly a memory of
their honeymoon and a bottle of cheap champagne surfaced. No.
Julia shot to her feet. This was not her problem anymore. Determined to get this
over and done with, she went to the closet and yanked out the first load of
hangers. They grew heavy as she lugged them to the car. She’d piled several
empty boxes in the back of the car, and she pulled them out to make room for the
rest of her clothes.
She took the boxes to the bedroom and tossed her sweaters inside. She’d just
opened her lingerie drawer, where a Pandora’s box of emotions waited for her,
when she heard the distant ringing of the phone. She ignored it, staring at the
full drawer. Each silky garment held a memory of at least one night…
She didn’t want to do this. It felt as though she was ripping her entire life to
shreds with her bare hands. “Damn you, Linc.” She grabbed a handful of silk and
threw it into the box. She didn’t care if the lingerie wrinkled. She’d never
wear it again, but she wasn’t leaving it behind, either. “Damn you. Damn you.
Damn you.” She crammed handfuls into the box in time with her words.
The phone started ringing again. Why wasn’t the answering machine picking up?
She stood and stalked to the kitchen where the only phone hung on the wall.
After seeing the bedroom, she’d thought Linc would’ve trashed this room, as
well. But he hadn’t. It was exactly as she’d left it.
Had he even come in here? Walking around the counter, she realized that, yes, he
had been here. The trash can overflowed with takeout containers and paper
plates. And the remnants of the answering machine that had been smashed to
pieces.
Curious, she opened the pantry. The same three boxes of cereal she’d left sat
there, untouched. How about the fridge? She hesitated to open it, knowing she’d
left half a gallon of milk.
She breathed a sigh of relief. The milk was gone, but all that sat on the
shelves was a six-pack of beer and a dozen sodas. She grabbed a cola, enjoying
the feel of the cool metal against her hand.
“Serves him right if he starves to death,” she mumbled and closed the fridge.
Linc was a grown man. She refused to worry about him—he certainly didn’t worry
about her. The sound of the phone ringing yet again startled her, and she turned
to glare at it. She didn’t live here anymore, so why should she answer?
What if it was Linc? He knew she was going to be here today. Didn’t she want to
talk to him?
It kept ringing, loud in the quiet house. Might as well get this over with.
“Hello,” she snapped.
“Mrs. Holmes?” A stranger’s deep voice came through the line.
Probably a salesman. How did they know to time this stuff? “Yes?” She sighed,
not wanting to be rude, but not wanting to talk, either. Maybe she’d sign Linc
up for whatever they were selling. Magazines? A burial plot? She knew she was
being petty, but anger was easier to deal with than the hurt.
“This is David Hutchinson with the State Police. There’s been an accident at the
Winding Trail Mine.” His voice was too distant, too rehearsed, as if he’d
already said this a dozen times. “The family staging area is at the high-school
gym.”
Everything inside Julia drained away. For an instant the world tilted sideways
just a bit. She closed her eyes, shutting away her emotions. No. No. She heard a
thud, then a metallic rolling sound in the distance as she dropped the unopened
soda.
This wasn’t possible.
They’d been through the disaster drills dozens of times. Just because she
received a call didn’t mean a thing. Everyone was called and until all the
families were there, no one would know who was getting the bad news.
Company policy. Long-standing practice. Damned frightening reality.
She fought not to panic but knew the turmoil in her stomach was just that. She
didn’t remember hanging up the phone, but it was back in its normal place. Had
the man even really called? Was this a dream? Please wake me up.
What if…? Her knees nearly buckled. Where was Linc? She stared at the kitchen.
What had she been doing?
Through the pounding in her ears, she heard the crunch of tires on the drive.
Julia looked out the window, hoping, praying that it was Linc’s truck. She’d
give him an earful for scaring her half to death.
No such luck. A patrol car pulled in behind her sedan. She watched as the two
officers climbed out. They didn’t even have to knock as she met them at the
door.
“Hello, Julia.”
“Hello, Hank.” Their next-door neighbor was a good man, always waving and
smiling. He and Linc often stood out back and talked about guy stuff—fishing,
football and lawn-mower parts. The other officer looked familiar, but for the
life of her she couldn’t think of a name.
“I thought you might need a ride,” Hank said. He didn’t bother to explain. Her
face probably told him more than even she knew she was thinking and feeling.
“I think I can drive.” She doubted she’d even remember how to start the engine.
“I’ll drive your car so you’ve got wheels to come back home when you need to.”
Hank nodded toward the other officer. “Dennis will follow in the squad car.”
She nodded. On autopilot, she grabbed her purse and keys and closed the door.
Settled in the passenger seat, she looked back at the house as Hank climbed
behind the wheel of her half-loaded car. It looked the same as it had just a few
minutes ago—just as it had when she’d driven away on Friday, leaving Linc and it
behind—and yet everything was different.
She was different. Numbness took over. Numb was good.
Thursday Afternoon, Two Hours Underground
THE ONLY PERSON WHO SEEMED capable of movement was the kid. Ryan moved about,
trying to help Casey settle more comfortably on the hard stone floor.
The rest of them sat silently, watching the dust motes dance in the beam of
their lights.
Linc had been through dozens of disaster drills. As a mine inspector, he’d set
up several, coordinating with all the necessary teams: Search and Rescue, Fire,
Emergency Medical Services and even Navy Dive teams for mine flooding. He’d
coordinated, instructed, observed and participated. He knew the risks of mine
work.
But he’d never faced the real thing. He swallowed the lump of panic in his
throat.
“What the hell happened?” Linc growled softly, afraid that any noise would bring
the rest of the roof down on their heads.
Gabe answered first. “That’s a good question.”
“We hit something too hard to be normal.” Robert spoke from the darkness. He’d
turned his lamp off. “Sounded like a rock bolt to me, but it should have been
another six feet to the left. And we weren’t cuttin’ that high.”
“Look.” Gabe pulled the guide map he’d picked up in his assignment box before
the shift. He handed the frequently folded and now grubby map over to Linc.
Pulling the light off his hard hat, Linc studied it. Taken from a larger map,
probably one the owners had purchased from the Bureau of Land Management, it was
worn in several places. He noted the marks that indicated the rock bolts’
position. The eight-foot-long bolts that were drilled into the rock to stabilize
the roof were normally six feet apart.
He stood and paced off the perimeter. Then he figured the distance again. Gabe
watched him carefully. He could feel the older man’s gaze drilling into his
back.
He knew that Gabe was the kind of man who’d take the responsibility for whatever
went wrong. But Linc’s gut was telling him this wasn’t the crew’s fault.
“Gabe, look here,” he said.
The crew chief’s footsteps came up behind him. “What?”
“See this outcropping?” Linc pointed to the rock and then the map. “There’s
supposed to be two rock bolts between here and there.” He pointed to another
mark on the map.
“Yeah. We must have cut the one.” Gabe jabbed the map with a grubby finger.
“No. We were at least six feet from there, like Robert said. And even if we cut
that one—where’s the second?”
They looked at each other. Gabe paced off a few more feet, stopping at the edge
of the slide. He shone his light up and stared as Linc watched his eyes widen.
Linc moved over to stand beside Gabe and looked up.
There in the circle of the lamplight was a dark hole. Where the ceiling bolt was
supposed to be was nothing. No sign of any bolt. Anywhere.
The hair on the back of Linc’s neck tingled. All the reasons he’d become a mine
inspector came clearly to mind.
Acts of God or Mother Nature were one thing.
The hand of man was something altogether different.
CHAPTER FOUR
Thursday Afternoon, 4:30 p.m.
HANK DROPPED JULIA OFF at the family staging area at the high school. It was in
the same gym where she’d just attended a pep rally.
She walked through the familiar doors and looked around. The bleachers were
full, but the laughing, smiling high-school students had been replaced by the
sad, worried faces of miners’ families. Some of those same kids were here again,
their smiles erased by fear.
The only sounds in the room were those of restless bodies, tense whispers and
her footsteps as she crossed to the bleachers. Her heels were entirely too loud
on the polished wood floor.
She settled on the end of a bench, a bit away from the crowd, and wrapped her
arms around her waist. She needed to hold herself together.
No one had said a thing yet. There was no word as to exactly who was in the
trapped crew. This wasn’t one of those times where no news was good news.
Voices came from everywhere around her. Soft, hushed voices. Wobbly, worried
voices. Broken, pained voices. As a teacher, Julia had learned to eavesdrop in
order to stay a step ahead of her students. Turning that skill off now was
impossible. The fear and apprehension were alive and dark here in the room with
her.
Sitting on the edge of the hard seat, she tried to hang on to her sanity. It
wasn’t easy. She looked around and the anguish she saw in the other faces cut
through her. She couldn’t look at them. It hurt too much to see their pain.
What was she doing here? she asked herself. She’d left him, ended their life
together. She didn’t owe Linc anything.
With a quick glance around the crowd, Julia felt a trace of guilt. No one knew
the truth about their marriage because they hadn’t told anyone. If she hadn’t
come, what would they think of her? Of Linc?
If he was dead—
She shuddered. Linc. She repeated his name in her head, praying that somehow
that could make him appear before her. For the first time in days, she closed
her eyes and pictured his face. Not the face that had been lined with anger and
red with rage as he argued with her. Not the face of the man who silently drank
his coffee each morning before work and barely spoke to her. Not the face of the
man who strode from the house the other night.
She saw the boy she’d had a crush on all through high school. The boy she’d
stayed up late with cramming for finals in college. The man whose face shone in
completion as he made love to her.
The angry things she’d said that last evening at the house echoed around her.
She closed her eyes. She didn’t mean them. She swore she didn’t. Pain clogged
her throat and she fought the urge to curl in on herself.
“Ms. Holmes?” a young voice said beside her.
Julia’s eyes flew open and she looked down to see one of her former students,
Miranda Olsen, standing beside her on the bleacher below. The girl had to be six
now. Her dark auburn curls fell from Hello Kitty ponytail holders on each side
of her head. She’d grown up since she’d left Julia’s kindergarten class last
year.
“Hello, Miranda.” The teacher in her stepped forward and the scared-to-death
wife slunk back into the dark corners of Julia’s mind. “It’s nice to see you.
How are you?”
“I’m in first grade now.” She confirmed Julia’s earlier thoughts. “I’m here with
Mama. Daddy’s in the mine.”
Julia felt the bile rise in her throat. The idea of this child suddenly being
fatherless was too much. Just too much. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you here?” The little girl tilted her head sideways.
“My…my husband…” Children didn’t know a thing about legal separations and
divorces. They shouldn’t anyway. “My husband is down in the mine.”
Miranda reached out a pudgy hand and patted Julia’s fists. “It’ll be okay, Ms.
Holmes. My daddy will take care of him. He takes care of all of us.”
“Oh, honey,” Julia resisted the urge to pull the girl into her arms and hug her
tight, to absorb some of that naive confidence. She was afraid that if she held
her, she might not be able ever to let go.
“Miranda?” A woman’s voice came from behind Julia. “Come back up here.”
Julia didn’t have to turn around to picture the woman’s face. She remembered her
from parent-teacher conferences.
“But, Mama, it’s Ms. Holmes. She’s really sad. I need to help her.”
Even a six-year-old recognized her pain. Mortified, Julia sat up straighter.
“Thank you, Miranda.” She covered the tiny hand with her own. “You have helped
me. I feel much better now,” she lied. She couldn’t let the girl take on that
responsibility. She knew she’d succeeded when Miranda smiled.
“Okay.” Miranda leaned closer, and as only a child could do, she put her hand
against her mouth as if to whisper a secret. “It’s okay to be scared. Daddy said
he’s scared sometimes, too.”
The girl’s image swam behind the tears that flooded Julia’s eyes. The silence
grew and Julia reached out to give a gentle tug to one of her ponytails and
urged her to mind her mother.
Please let him be okay. Let them all be okay.
Miranda climbed back up on the seat beside her mother, and Julia didn’t dare
look around at her or at the rest of the crowd. Instead, she stared at the gym
floor, thinking of another floor, another high school, another time.
She and Linc had known each other all their lives. At least they’d known of each
other. In first grade, the same age Miranda was now, they’d both been in Mrs.
Schwartz’s class at Preston Elementary school, just outside Philadelphia. Linc
had been a wild hellion at that age. He’d gotten his kicks from hiding things,
like frogs and bugs, in the girls’ desks or lunch boxes.
She almost let herself smile at the memory of how many times he’d been sent to
the principal’s office. That hadn’t stopped him, of course. He just became more
creative. She’d sworn she hated him.
Until high school.
Suddenly he’d seemed different. Taller. Less disruptive. Handsome. She hadn’t
understood then what she’d felt for him. Desires, some good, some bad—and some
she thought were supposed to be bad—kept up a constant battle within her.
He’d been withdrawn their junior year, and she knew it had to do with his
father’s death. Linc had had to face the reality that sometimes people were lost
deep in the mines. This was his worst fear.
She might be angry with him, and their marriage might be a mess, but she didn’t
wish him harm or…
Please, God. Don’t let him die alone in the dark.
Thursday Afternoon, Two Hours Forty-Five Minutes Underground
“WE GOT WALLS TO BUILD, boys.” Gabe’s words shattered Linc’s thoughts. Everyone
except Casey stood.
The crew chief was right, work would keep their hands and anxious minds busy.
Besides, building walls was an old miners’ survival strategy. After a cave-in,
walls helped stabilize the existing roof supports and, by barricading themselves
into a small area, the miners could, they hoped, conserve their body heat and
block out any toxic gasses.
“I’ll see if I can get the battices. That end of the work site’s still clear.”
Robert left to retrieve the canvas cloth stored near the work site for just this
reason.
Gabe nodded. “Ryan, head over to the machines and see if you can find any of
those bottles of distilled water.” Ryan turned to leave. “But be careful. Don’t
move anything to get them.”
“Yes, sir.” Ryan vanished into the darkness, nothing but a bobbing light to
indicate his existence.
“Zach, Mike, when Robert gets back, help him get that canvas up.” He paced off
space. “Here to here.”
“Got it,” Mike assured him. Zach nodded.
“I can help.” Linc hated having to remind anyone of his existence. Gabe looked
hard at him; Linc knew he wasn’t really a part of this team.
“All I want you to do is keep an eagle eye on that meter. Check everyone’s
tanks. Regularly.”
Gabe hadn’t forgotten him, after all. He’d assigned each man the job he could do
best. A little of Linc’s anxiety eased as his faith in Gabe rose.
Robert returned, Ryan close on his heels. The three bottles of water were a
welcome sight.
“Look what else I found.” Ryan held up a battered lunch pail.
“I told you not to move anything.” It was obvious the pail had been buried under
something.
“It wasn’t under anything but a couple of rocks.”
“All right. Let’s get this done.” Already, Gabe’s voice was raspy. The thick air
was affecting them all. They had to get the barrier up before they lost all
their strength. As it was, the task took more effort than normal.
The space they sectioned off was small and close, but it was the best hope they
had of surviving until the rescue teams came for them.
They struggled with the large canvas, stumbling a couple of times because of the
difficulty breathing. Twice, Zach left and had to crouch down to catch his
breath. Finally, the large sheet in place, they all settled down to regain their
strength.
Linc felt the exhaustion and lethargy creep over him. He stared at the white
canvas wall—what he could see of it in the dim light, anyway. Somehow, it seemed
they were admitting defeat by putting it up, but it was the only thing they had.
Now all they could do was wait and try to stay alive.
Leaning back against the cold, rough wall, Linc closed his eyes. Were these
men’s faces and that damned wall of fabric the last things he’d ever see? Had
this been what his father had experienced?
Memories of that long-ago day surfaced. His father’s last day.
The news had come that there had been a cave-in. The families all gathered
aboveground, just as they probably were doing right now. Absently, Linc looked
up, as if he could somehow see through the mountain of rock. Had they gotten in
touch with Julia? Would she even come?
Did she even know he was alive? Did anyone believe they’d survived? Were they
going to dig for them, or had everyone given up and left the mine to be their
tomb?
Questions and images flew at him from everywhere inside his head.
He remembered his mother’s collapse that day. She’d never been the same after
that. The broken, wailing woman had looked and sounded nothing like the mother
he’d known for sixteen years.
As she’d crumbled, he’d put his arms around her, tried to comfort her, tried to
absorb her tears into his young embrace. He’d tried but never quite succeeded.
He thought about Julia and couldn’t imagine her crumbling like that, but he
hadn’t expected it of his mother, either. Did Julia even still care enough to
hurt for him? Panic shot through him. At least his mother had had him and his
brother to comfort her.
Julia had no one.
And that was his fault. He’d moved her away from her parents. Away from her
friends to a strange and—according to her—inhospitable town. He’d done worse
than his own father. He’d left her totally alone.
Guilt clawed in his chest as if some creature that had possessed him for years
now fought to dig its way out.
She wanted children. Desperately. He’d been the one who hadn’t really cared.
He’d rarely considered having kids of his own, swearing he wouldn’t leave them
as his father had left him. But he’d always tried to give Julia everything he
could.
A sound, a sob, broke from his throat. He smothered it with a groan and rose to
his feet. He smacked his shoulder on the rock wall but suffered the pain in
silence, accepting the punishment for his own selfish stupidity.
“What are they doing up top?” Ryan’s voice shook. Linc realized all of their
emotions were kicking in without any physical activity to distract them.
“They’ll drill an air shaft first,” Gabe whispered from the far corner as if
fighting his own fears.
“Yeah,” Linc agreed, hoping. “Fresh air. Man, won’t that be nice?” Perhaps he’d
get another chance. Perhaps, he prayed, not even sure what he was praying for,
but knowing it couldn’t hurt.
Wouldn’t that surprise Julia? Him. Praying. He shook his head and smiled. The
movement pulled the tight skin of his dry lips and the twinge of pain reminded
him they all needed water.
“Where are those water jugs?” he asked. The water was kept down here for the
machines but came in handy in times like this.
“Over by Casey,” Ryan answered.
Linc found them easily. He opened one and took a deep swallow, then passed it to
Ryan. “Take some. We need to stay hydrated.” Ryan nodded and drank. Everyone
followed suit and they even managed to get some down Casey’s throat.
Linc sank back down to his spot on the ground. He’d be damned if he was giving
up.
Julia might be up there. She might not, but he was going to do everything in his
power to get back to her so they could at least fight it out face-to-face.
He had to hold on to that anger. It might be all he had.
Thursday Afternoon, 5:00 p.m.
THE STEEL DOORS AT THE END of the gym burst open, sending Julia’s heart into her
throat. Men covered in soot, their clothes grimy with it, flooded into the gym.
Everyone in the bleachers stood. Looking, seeking the man they’d spent the past
few hours agonizing over.
Fervently, Julia searched. Too tall. Too short. Too heavy. While all the men
looked alike in their dirty coveralls and blackened faces, none of them remotely
resembled Linc.
Her stomach tensed and her chest burned as she held her breath. Tears flowed and
men hugged women, children and each other. Slowly, the crowd thinned as families
left. Surely she’d find him soon. Or he’d find her.
Lord knew she longed for that instant when she’d see him, recognize him. Would
he hug her tightly? She wouldn’t even care if the mine soot ruined her clothes.
Or would he simply look at her with that painful silence and turn away as he had
so many times lately?
She didn’t care right now. She just wanted him here, safe. She couldn’t be his
wife anymore, but she didn’t want him hurt, either.
Still, he didn’t appear.
The fluorescent lights overhead dimmed. The noise of the crowd faded.
He wasn’t coming. She knew it. Knew deep down inside that he was with that
ill-fated crew.
“Oh, God,” she whispered and felt the bench come up to meet her. She wanted to
bury her face in her hands and weep but didn’t dare, just in case she missed
him.
“Daddy!” Miranda’s high-pitched squeal shattered the din. Miranda’s father,
grungy and filthy, swept her up in his arms. She giggled despite the smudge of
black he left on her cheek where he kissed her.
“Daddy, did you help Ms. Holmes’s husband?”
He frowned in confusion.
“Oh, sweetie.” Julia stood again and reached out to stop the girl’s words before
they could rush out, but Miranda wasn’t having any of that.
“Your husband?” Mr. Olsen—Julia couldn’t remember his first name at the
moment—looked at her in confusion, then as recognition dawned, he frowned. “Is
he down there?”
She couldn’t speak. All she could manage was a shrug. She longed for the days
when a daddy could fix all the world’s problems.
“We’re going back down, ma’am.”
“Ben, no.” His wife held tight to his hand, snuggled up against his side and
laid her head on his shoulder.
“You know that’s how we do it,” he whispered.
Tears in her eyes, the woman nodded. “I know.”
Julia looked at the small family, her longing so thick it nearly stopped her
heart from beating. She wanted a family of her own, but right now she was far
away from having anything close to that.
“Holmes, right? He’s the inspector?” Ben’s voice broke into her thoughts. “He’s
a good guy. Not like some inspectors. He’s fair. We’ll get him out.”
She believed him. Linc would do the exact same thing. That look of determination
in Ben’s eyes was identical to the one she saw so often on Linc’s face.
How had she missed that?
She swallowed hard and sat back down before she fell over. She watched the Olsen
family leave. Miranda and her mother turned toward home, comfortable in the
knowledge their husband and father was safe. Ben turned back to the mine to help
find the others. Find Linc.
Just before the door closed, Julia saw Ben pull his wife close and kiss her long
and deep.
She wanted to tear her gaze away, but she couldn’t. An ache grew in her throat
and she tried to remember the last time she’d been kissed like that.
She couldn’t remember.
What was wrong with her that she couldn’t stay in love with her husband? The
thought hit her hard. Did she even love Linc anymore? She missed being held and
loved and the company. She hated being alone. But did she actually miss him?
She didn’t miss the anger and the frustration that came with waking up each
morning.
“Mrs. Holmes?” A neatly dressed young woman touched Julia’s shoulder,
interrupting her thoughts. “Hello,” the woman said softly, not waiting for Julia
to respond, as if she feared Julia might break from the sound of her voice. “I’m
Elizabeth Wilson.”
Julia stared at her.
Elizabeth must have realized Julia wasn’t going to, or couldn’t, speak. “I’m a
counselor. I thought maybe you’d like some company.” Without waiting for an
invitation, the woman sat down beside Julia.
That’s when Julia’s hope slipped. Linc was trapped underground. Perhaps even—she
nearly retched at the thought—perhaps even dead.
She looked around at the suddenly surreal world. Few families remained. Those
still seated had bleak, pained looks on their faces. She recognized Rita, Ryan’s
mother, the woman who’d spoken to her only a few hours ago at the grocery store.
She saw Rita’s husband and daughter-in-law, Rachel.
Julia’s heart ached. Rachel Sinclair’s presence meant that both brothers were
down there with Linc.
She saw Shirley Wise and her heart rate increased a bit with hope. It felt a bit
better knowing Gabe was with him. It was common knowledge around town that Gabe
Wise was one of the most experienced miners. If anyone knew that mine, he did.
She didn’t recognize the others but she did recognize their pain, their anguish.
Suddenly, just as before, the doors slammed open. No miners entered this time.
A group of men wearing suits came in and closed the doors behind them. She
recognized the mine superintendent and a couple of other management types, but
most of the frowning men were strangers to her. An uncomfortable feeling settled
in her chest, and she knew she’d be getting to know them all too well.
Never before had she felt so trapped. She rebelled against it and stood. She
wanted to leave, to run away, but knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t leave without
knowing what had happened.
“Who are they?” she asked the woman beside her, the counselor whose name she’d
already forgotten.
The woman didn’t answer. She simply stood and put her arm around Julia’s
shoulders.
Julia jerked away. “Don’t touch me. Don’t patronize me. Just answer me. Is my
husband dead?”
CHAPTER FIVE
Thursday Afternoon, Three and a Half Hours Underground
LINC FELT RATHER THAN SAW Ryan scoot down beside him.
“What will they do after the vent shaft is done? How are they gonna get us out
through that pile?” The kid tilted his head toward the caved-in exit.
“I’m not sure. There’s a couple of options.” At least he hoped so. “They’ll
lower a camera first, then a listening device and something to test the air.
Don’t worry. They are trying to find us.” He didn’t add that the rescue teams
were probably still trying to figure out if they were even alive. “Hopefully,
they’ll pump in the fresh air first.”
Ryan coughed as if on cue to show how bad the air had become. “That’d be good.”
He didn’t say anything else but didn’t move away, either.
“Relax. Breathe slow,” Linc prompted. They all carried a self-contained
breathing apparatus as part of their emergency kits. It gave them a limited
amount of good air and no one wanted to waste it. So far, Linc’s meter had been
clear of any readings for toxic gas, but the dust made it difficult to take a
clean breath. He kept a close eye on the gauge.
Linc waited until Ryan had relaxed before he spoke again. “Something on your
mind?”
“Uh, yeah. I been thinking. About stuff. ’Bout school. Mrs. Holmes is gonna be
mighty pissed at us, huh?”
Linc almost laughed. He was pretty sure that was how Julia felt about him most
of the time. His gut tightened as he thought about the hell the families must be
going through. Part of him hoped Julia wasn’t up there, that she’d managed to
stay untouched by this. The selfish part of him prayed she was waiting for him.
“Why do you say that?” He focused on Ryan instead.
“She was so mad when I told her I was quitting school.”
“Yeah, I know. Why exactly did you quit?”
“You aren’t going to get on my case, too, are you?”
“No. Just curious.” He was more than curious, but he knew better than to push.
Ryan was the only one talking at the moment and Linc didn’t want to lose this
connection, no matter how tenuous it might be, to Julia.
In the dim light, Linc thought he saw the boy shrug. “I was having a tough
time.”
“Like how? Kids picking on you?”
“No!” Ryan looked over at Linc as if he might clam up. His denial was a bit too
vehement, but Linc let it pass.
He waited for Ryan to continue.
“Math was kicking my butt. Mrs. Holmes kept trying to convince me I could do it.
Said I just needed help, but that didn’t work too well.”
Something in the young miner’s voice told Linc that the attempt had caused more
problems than it solved. He chuckled. “She ought to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“She won’t like me telling you.” He almost didn’t, but realized he wanted to
talk about her. “She hated math in school. Flunked it twice in college.”
He should be thankful for Julia’s lack of math skills. Even when she kept her
distance from him, it provided an excuse for her to ask him for help, though he
honestly believed she could do it if she had more faith in her abilities. Too
many abysmal failures, though, had left a deep mark.
“She said someone helped her in school.”
“Yeah. I did.” Linc smiled and leaned his head back against the hard rock. God,
it felt good to remember and leave this dark, damp place for a moment.
He recalled the study sessions that had run late into the night. Her laughter.
The frustration she’d expressed when she didn’t understand. They’d grown close
so quickly over those months. Was that why it had fallen apart just as quickly
now?
“You’ve known her a long time?” The tone of Ryan’s voice changed.
“Yeah. Since first grade. We went to school together.”
“See!” Ryan leaned over toward his brother.
“Oh, here we go.” Mike’s voice came out of the darkness and Linc could almost
hear the older brother roll his eyes.
“Shut up, Mike,” Ryan said.
“What’s going on?” Linc couldn’t let Ryan’s comment go without a response.
“Nothing,” Ryan whispered.
“It doesn’t sound like nothing. You got a question to ask? Do it.” Something was
bothering Ryan and he seemed to want to talk to Linc. Maybe it was because Linc
was a stranger, or maybe because he was the only option at the moment. The
others didn’t seem too concerned with him.
“They all think I’m trouble.” Ryan tilted his head to the group as a whole.
“Why?”
“’Cause I’m just a kid to them.”
He was just a kid, but Linc realized there was no turning back now. Ryan had
left his childhood behind the day he’d stepped through the mouth of this mine.
“When they reach us, getting out of here isn’t going to be easy, you know,” Linc
offered. “We have to work together.”
“If they reach us, you mean.” Ryan’s mood had deteriorated into
seventeen-year-old attitude.
“No. When. Hey, look, you’ve got the edge on us all.”
“What do you mean?”
Linc suddenly wished Julia was here to advise him. She knew how to deal with
these kids. He hadn’t a clue. He hadn’t been seventeen in a very long time.
“What do you mean?” Ryan repeated, more of that attitude returning to coat his
words.
“When the mine caved in at Sago, the lone survivor was the youngest of the
group,” Linc said softly. Ryan didn’t immediately reply.
“Why do you think that happened?”
“Partly because the others looked after him, thinking he was young and needed
taking care of.” Linc knew that wasn’t going to thrill Ryan, even if it was
true. “But also because he had more resilience and reserves. His body did better
without air for a longer time.”
Bodies shuffled and a soft snore came out of the darkness. Linc knew Ryan was
thinking, he just wasn’t sure what about.
“Linc?”
“Yeah,”
“When you were my age did you know what love was?”
Linc managed to swallow his initial shock. “Uh, yeah. I think so.” Oh, good. He
was messing this up, he was sure of it.
Looking back, though, he realized he wasn’t lying. He had loved Julia, even back
then, even before they’d gotten together in college. “Lord, you make me feel
old, kid.” He’d been in love with Julia for most of his adult life. Where had
the time gone?
“You’re not old. You’re younger than my dad.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Hey, that’s not an insult. My dad’s not horrible. He’s just—”
“Be glad you’ve got him, kid. My dad died when I was sixteen. I never really got
to tell him how I felt, and I certainly didn’t get the chance to talk to him as
an adult.” Linc couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself think about his
father, and he knew he’d never admitted that to anyone, including himself.
Something clattered in the darkness, startling them both. Ryan gave a nervous
laugh and stood, as if looking for an escape from the conversation. “I’ll go see
what that was.”
“Ryan, wait—” Linc leaned over to stop him but missed. “Don’t go far,” he called
after him.
“Give up, man.” Mike’s voice came out of the dark. He’d obviously overheard
their conversation. “Ry doesn’t listen to anyone.”
Linc laughed. “What seventeen-year-old does?”
“Fair enough.” Mike chuckled, as well. It was good to hear the other man’s voice
without the overwhelming fear and concern in it. They all knew he was worried
about his wife, Rachel. He’d spoken some about his parents, but mostly it had
been about Rachel. Linc had met the shy woman a couple of times around town. She
was pregnant with their first child, and Mike feared this would be too hard on
her.
“You think he’s too young to be in love?”
“He’s only seventeen.”
“How old are you, Mike?” Link had a vague idea but he wanted to hear the other
man admit it.
“Twenty. Yeah, I know. Not much older, and I’ve been married almost two years.
But I—”
“Feel older?”
“Yeah. Especially right now. When Rachel and I first got married, I thought we
were on top of the world and could do anything we wanted.” Linc remembered that
feeling. Suddenly his mind filled with memories from his own wedding day. He
couldn’t remember a time in his life he’d been that nervous. That had scared him
even more than being stuck down here did.
“But? What happened?”
“Life happened, man. We didn’t exactly plan to have kids so soon. She’s been
going to college at night. She wants to be a nurse.” Mike’s pride exploded in
the cavern. “She can’t do that if I’m not there to help her.” His pride vanished
and fear took its place.
“Don’t sell her short.” Linc had always thought Julia couldn’t survive without
him. That damned male ego she was always accusing him of having. Okay, he was a
guy. He knew that. He liked it. She was disgustingly right, though. She’d
apparently done fine without him this week, as she hadn’t come home, and that
knowledge made him ache.
“When Rachel got pregnant she was actually mad at me for a week.” Mike didn’t
sound like that bothered him too much. “But she got over it once she realized we
were actually going to have a baby.” His voice hitched.
“Until the morning sickness hit,” Linc offered, then realized what he’d just
confessed.
“Didn’t know you had kids.”
Linc swallowed the pain in his throat. “We…we don’t. Julia miscarried. Five
months along.” They’d never discussed it with anyone outside of her family.
“Man, that’s tough.” Mike’s voice came out way too soft. Linc had to change the
topic or Mike was going to fall back into that depression he’d felt earlier.
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Linc asked, knowing that wasn’t what he’d
meant to say. “Boy.”
“That they’re going to name after me,” Ryan yelled from the other side of the
cavern.
“Quit eavesdropping, brother.”
“I can’t help it.” Ryan reappeared. “We’re sorta stuck here together.”
The brotherly banter made Linc smile. His own brother had left years ago, and he
hadn’t heard from him since. He missed it, he realized, thinking back on the
years before his dad died. When they’d played together, teased each other, been
a family.
Was that what Julia had wanted? The thought surprised him. He’d never bothered
to ask her. And she’d never bothered to tell him. Or maybe he hadn’t been
listening.
He closed his eyes and, for the first time since the cave-in, let himself
picture her as she had been back when he’d decided to act on his longtime
attraction to her. He remembered it all so clearly. They’d been walking across
campus that day. Tiny snowflakes had fallen from the leaden clouds and landed
softly in her hair. He’d been fascinated by the sight. Even now his fingers
itched to reach out and touch the thick copper-gold curls.
At that point, Julia hadn’t seemed to even notice him and he’d been doing his
best to ignore the attraction he felt for her.
Attraction. Hell, he’d been besotted with her. Did anyone even use that word
anymore? His nights in college had been populated with hot dreams and cold
showers. He remembered their first kiss. After a successful tutoring session,
she’d launched herself at him in a thank-you hug that had quickly turned to
something else. Something sweet and hot that had kept them close for long,
endless minutes. He could still taste her and his body ached to hold her, touch
her again.
Looking back, he realized that in all the years they’d been together, that day
was probably the only time he’d truly believed in them. Was that part of the
reason his marriage was in trouble now?
Julia was the daughter of a mine owner. Rich. Affluent. Linc was the son of a
man who’d died in those mines. Poor. A nobody on life’s radar. He opened his
eyes and the reality of the cold mine came crashing back.
He’d known then that they weren’t meant to be together, but he’d ignored his gut
and married her anyway. He shivered, and not just from the cold, damp mine
tunnel.
She’d finally walked out on him.
Time had proven him right.
Thursday Afternoon, 5:30p.m.
JULIA STARED AT THE FIVE MEN in suits who stood together at the front of the gym
like bricks in an impenetrable wall. She immediately didn’t like them and she
liked them even less when they started to talk.
One man took a step forward. “I’m Martin Halston. I’m the CEO of the Winding
Trail.” His face flushed as if admitting that wasn’t something he wanted to do.
The bright red color swept up his pudgy neck and showed through his thinning
salt-and-pepper hair. “I want you to know we’re doing everything we can to
figure out what happened.”
Jack Sinclair stood. His face was red, too, but from anger not embarrassment.
“My sons are down there,” he shouted. “Right now I don’t give a damn what
happened. I want to know what you’re going to do to get them out.”
The silence stretched uncomfortably until finally another man stepped forward.
What weren’t they being told? Julia watched Halston stand back and take a deep
breath.
“I’m Patrick Kelly, Director of the Mining Commission.” This man seemed a bit
more sure of himself. “That’s why we’re here. To fill you in.” He pulled off his
suit jacket and tugged at his tie before he spoke again. “There’s been one face
fall that we know about. There’s debris, but we believe the men are beyond that.
We’ve started drilling the first bore hole.”
“Hell.” Jack Sinclair threw his hands up in frustration. “You don’t even know if
they’re alive, do you?”
“We’re trying to find out. We hope so.” Patrick scrubbed a hand over his face,
then met Jack’s eyes. “You wouldn’t want me to lie, would you?” An awkward
silence settled over them all.
“No.”
Julia wasn’t so sure. She wanted to hear that they were okay and would be home
soon. Lie to me. Lie to me.
For several long minutes, she listened to the men argue. She understood Jack’s
pain. His two sons—his only children—were down there. She felt as if she were
watching a bad dream through distorted glasses. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be
real.
She didn’t understand all the jargon they were throwing around, but she did
understand that they were drilling down to try to locate the men. That wasn’t
going to be anytime soon, and forever stretched out in front of her. She knew
from past incidents that this whole process—regardless of the outcome—could take
hours, or even days.
She swallowed her anxiety and looked around at the people who shared her fear.
The Sinclair women sat behind Jack. Rita’s arms were around her very pregnant
daughter-in-law, Rachel. Shirley Wise sat to the side, her back ramrod straight
as she glared at the men. For once, Julia and Shirley were on the same page.
Another woman sat on the front row of the bleachers. The blonde woman’s face was
buried in her folded arms.
Julia turned back to look at the young counselor who’d come to comfort her. Why
had she come to her and not this heartbroken woman? Because of who her husband
was? Julia fought a flare of anger. Neither she nor Linc wanted special
treatment. She was in the same boat as everyone else here. Her loved one was
trapped, too.
Her thoughts stopped. Loved one? She didn’t love Linc anymore. Did she? Instead
of an answer, a blank empty void threatened to suck her under. She had to escape
her thoughts.
She stood and walked over to the distraught woman. Gently, Julia touched the
woman’s shoulder, trying not to startle her. The woman jumped anyway and stared
at her. The pain in her eyes hit Julia like a semi barreling down I-99. She
nearly took a step back from it.
“I didn’t… I can’t…” The woman took Julia’s hand and squeezed it tight. Julia
let her hold on, let herself hold on.
Julia settled beside the woman. Jack didn’t look pleased with what Patrick was
saying, but he sat next to his wife, who laid her head on his shoulder.
Julia closed her eyes and wished for a strong shoulder to lean on… The what-ifs
that popped into her mind hurt too much. She forced herself to open her eyes and
focus. She couldn’t let herself feel right now.
“There’s a press conference scheduled for six o’clock,” Patrick said. Everyone
turned to look at the large white-faced clock high up on the wall. Less than ten
minutes from now. How had they been here for two hours already?
“Look.” Patrick stood beside Jack now, his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I don’t
have the answers for you. I wish I did. We’ve got crews and equipment headed
this way from three states. We’ll do everything humanly possible to get to our
crew.”
Julia realized they had to trust these men and that she had to put her faith in
their knowledge, skill and determination. She didn’t necessarily have to like
them, but they needed this operation to succeed as much as everyone else in the
room.
Jack stood and Patrick held up his hand as he spoke. “I will promise you one
thing. I’ll tell you everything I know as soon as I know it. And I’ll tell you
before I tell the press. Fair enough?”
Jack nodded once, then turned back to his wife. He suddenly looked defeated and
years older than he had a moment ago.
Patrick’s promise sounded sincere, but Julia couldn’t help but wonder how he was
going to keep it. She’d never felt more helpless and alone than she did
surrounded by all these people.
The mine managers left the gym with what seemed like incredible speed. As they
opened the metal doors, the flash of lights, the crush of microphones and
reporters was surprising and intimidating.
Julia cringed. She couldn’t deal with reporters. Not now. Her panic faded when
the doors closed again.
Only one of the men remained. Patrick Kelly.
Julia stood, not letting go of the woman’s hand. “What now?”
Patrick seemed relieved that someone else other than Jack had spoken. “We know
from experience that you all need to be as close to the site as possible.”
The shadow of past mining disasters fell across the group. They all knew the
history, the successes and failures. Accurate communication was key, and Julia
was relieved to hear that Patrick was aware of the risks.
“We’re not going to try to run you in front of those reporters like others have
done,” Patrick said. “We’ve set up a tent near the command center. We’ll get you
all there as soon as the reporters are gone.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Jack sighed in exasperation. “They’re here for the
duration. You know what the press is like with stuff like this.”
“I don’t know how else to get you through that crush.” Patrick looked helpless
and frustrated.
The thought of sitting here on the hard bleachers for any longer was too much.
Julia wasn’t sure she could do that without losing her mind.
“Isn’t there another way out?” Shirley asked, rising from her seat.
“There is a back way.” Julia blurted out the words as her mind clicked into
gear. She’d caught two kids using it just last week.
“Back way?” Everyone looked at her expectantly.
She almost smiled. It felt good to be doing something, even something so simple.
“I just want out of here,” the woman beside her whispered.
Rita spoke for the first time. “If you know how, show us.”
“Come on.” Julia helped the blonde woman to her feet and fumbled around in her
pocket for her keys. The master key was something she seldom used, but she
didn’t think the principal would care if she used it now.
She led the group to the weight room just beyond the far doors. “There’s a door
behind that closet, left over from the renovation.” She pointed it out and
Patrick and Jack moved the mats away. She slid her master key into the lock
she’d had put on just last week.
“Hold on.” Patrick pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and spoke into it.
“Yeah. Bring it around to the back of the school.” He cautiously pushed open the
door and looked around. “And don’t let anyone see you leave.” After he hung up,
he turned back to the families. “We’ve got a bus to take you up the hill.”
“What about my car?” Shirley asked.
“We’ll leave your cars here for now. It’ll distract the press for a while at
least.”
The sound of a bus engine came through the opening in the door. “Let’s go.”
Patrick led them outside. “If we hurry, maybe we can slip past before the press
conference ends.”
The sun hung low in the sky, and clouds blocked some of the fading twilight. A
cool wind plucked at Julia’s hair. She wondered where her jacket was. Had she
even brought one?
Still holding the other woman’s stiff hand, Julia led her across the grass to
the yellow school bus. She would have preferred the physical activity of walking
to the mine, but that wasn’t an option at this point.
She felt better having remembered the door. She had to keep busy, had to take
action. Doing kept her from thinking. She couldn’t give in to her emotions. Not
now. She had to be strong. Nothing else was an option.
As the bus turned the final corner out of the school parking lot, nearly
everyone turned to look back. The press conference must have just ended, but the
few reporters who had already stepped outside weren’t quick enough to catch even
the slow-moving bus. Moments later they drove through the gates of the mine and
Julia breathed a sigh of relief. They’d escaped.
For now.
CHAPTER SIX
Thursday Evening, 6:30 p.m.
A HUGE WHITE TENT had been erected on a flat patch of ground behind the mine
offices. It was one of those tents typically rented for happy events—weddings,
bar mitzvahs or revival meetings.
As Julia climbed off the bus, she wondered if the canvas had soaked up enough
good memories to counter the bad ones she was afraid lay ahead.
Stop that! She shook her head and tried to clear the gloomy thoughts. The quiet
young woman at her side and the others shuffling behind her prompted her to keep
moving.
Hank and Dennis, the other officer she’d met earlier, stood a few yards away at
the gates to the compound, keeping the media out and the families in. She knew
the mine didn’t want any more bad press than necessary, which, for now, suited
her just fine. There was no way she’d make it if she had to deal with reporters
shoving microphones in her face.
The blonde woman suddenly spoke. “I’m Trish Hayes. My husband, Zach, is down
there.”
“Hi, Trish. I’m Julia.” She tried to smile but found her facial muscles
reluctant to cooperate.
“I know. Your husband’s the inspector, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Why?” Julia couldn’t see anything good about any of this. She stumbled over a
rock in the dirt path. Trish clutched her arm and kept her from falling on her
face. They were definitely in this together.
“There are too many accidents. Maybe now we’ll get some action from the mine
owners and the government.”
Julia sighed, doubting it. She hadn’t been able to persuade Linc to include her
concerns about kids working the mines in his report. He hadn’t agreed with her.
Was there any chance now that his report on this mine might make a difference?
What if he didn’t come out of this even to file a report?
Before her panic could totally overwhelm her, she and Trish walked into the
tent. She stepped into the sudden dimness, waiting while her eyes adjusted.
A row of cots had been set up in the back. Metal folding chairs and several long
tables made up uneven rows. One table off to the side held a large coffeepot,
cups and several covered dishes.
Bless the women of Parilton. They might not be able to dig for coal, but they
sure could cook. Before this was over, the table would be laden with enough
casseroles to feed an army.
And the rescue crews fit that bill. They’d wolf it down in between trips into
the mine. Julia looked away from the food, away from the images it conjured of
long hours spent not knowing.
Instead, she focused on the coffeepot. She craved a jolt of caffeine and led
Trish to the table to fill a cup. The dark brew scalded her tongue and throat
going down.
Perfect.
Voices came through the tent opening. Almost as one, she and Trish turned.
Patrick led a small group inside. A big, burly man among them called out,
“Trish. Where’s Trish?”
Trish’s arm left Julia’s for the first time since that moment in the gym. A wave
of loneliness swept over her as Trish moved away.
“Daddy,” Trish cried and sped across the tent. The man enfolded her in his arms.
She let loose and sobbed into the front of his flannel shirt.
Patrick lifted his hand. “Can I have your attention?” Everyone, including Trish,
looked up hopefully. “I need you all to make a list of anyone who will be
joining you here.” Disappointment hung in the air as he handed out pieces of
paper. “The police are going to keep everyone else out.”
Shirley spoke up from the back of the group. “My daughter’s going to be flying
in from Georgia.”
“Put her name on your list and we’ll be sure to let her in. And if you talk to
her, to anyone, tell them to have their ID handy.”
Shirley stepped forward. “Has anyone contacted Mamie Hastings?”
“Who’s she?” Patrick asked.
“Her son Robert’s on Gabe’s crew. He’s down there, I’m sure. I didn’t see him
come into the gym.” She waited until Patrick nodded. “She lives over at Shady
Pines Retirement Home in Hillsville.”
“I doubt she knows,” Patrick admitted.
“Well, someone better tell her.”
“Do you think she’s up to it?” Obviously, Patrick believed the elderly woman was
too infirm.
Shirley chuckled. “You better send someone to go get her. She’s liable to start
heading this way with her walker if she sees it on the news.”
“I’ll check on it.”
Julia figured Hank or Dennis would be headed over to Hillsville soon.
From her vantage point near the coffee station, Julia looked over the crowd. The
families were grouped together and Patrick made the rounds. When he stopped in
front of her, he hesitated.
“Are you here alone?”
She nodded, meeting his gaze, defying him to make an issue of it. He handed her
a sheet of paper and a stubby pencil that had seen better days. The blank page
blurred. She couldn’t begin to think what to do with it. Instead, she folded it
and shoved it into her pocket with the pencil.
Patrick moved away, but not before squeezing her shoulder.
Another man’s voice startled her. “Are you Julia?” She looked up at the bear of
a man who had hugged Trish.
“Y-yes.”
He stuck out his hand. “Walt Robinson. I wanted to thank you for watchin’ after
my girl.”
Julia nodded and slipped her hand into his. Her fingers were engulfed, and
before she realized what he had in mind, he’d pulled her into a strong hug. She
ached to turn into his embrace as Trish had, but instead she pulled back. She
focused on the coffee he’d miraculously not spilled.
“Take care of her,” she told him with a voice that seemed way too small and
stepped away, letting the family have their privacy.
Over the next hour, several more people arrived and the melancholy reunion hugs
were nearly incessant. Julia looked around, sipping yet another cup of coffee, a
cup that became her focus, something to hold on to. People, strangers and
neighbors, were everywhere. They pressed in close and the noise level rose to a
dull roar.
She needed to get out of here. With her cup in hand, she stepped outside the
quickly crowded tent.
She gulped in the cooling mountain air and felt her muscles relax a little. The
scent of rain was heavy in the breeze, and as if summoned by her thoughts, drops
started to fall around her. Still she didn’t go back inside. She scooted up
against the tent flap, out of the rain and away from the crowd.
Too many people made her nervous. If anyone touched her, or was too nice to her,
she’d fall apart. She refused to let that happen.
Glancing at her watch, she realized three more hours had passed. How long had
Linc been down there? Nearly five hours now. It seemed like five days. Five
years. Forever.
Hold on. Please hold on.
Thursday Evening, Six and a Half Hours Underground
LINC STARED AT THE UNEVEN surface of the cavern’s ceiling. It wasn’t far away
and even in the dim light, he made out the rough contour where the machine had
ground the rock away from itself. The crew that would be searching for them had
to go through that. Thinking about how much work needed to be done only added to
his fatigue and worry.
He was tired. They all were. They were trying to conserve energy as best they
could. Besides, what else did they have to do but wait?
Claustrophobia threatened and he bit it back. Panicking was not an option. Deep,
slow breaths. He focused on listening to and slowing his own heart rate. He’d
learned the techniques not long after his father’s death, when the nightmares of
being trapped first appeared. He’d conquered it then, he’d do it now.
“Gabe?” he called out into the void.
“Yeah?” The older man’s voice was soft and seemed distant.
“What’s the one thing you’re going to do when we get out of here?”
Gabe chuckled. “Buy a burger, a big fat juicy one—to hell with my cholesterol.”
Linc laughed.
“And you?”
Linc struggled to answer. “I don’t know,” he lied. He knew what he wanted to do,
but making love to Julia was out of the question now. How long had it been? He
had no clue and that didn’t sit well with him. Where had the urgency gone that
had filled those first years? He could clearly recall those days when they
couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Now he might never get the chance to
touch her again. And not just because he was trapped here. She was probably
completely moved out of the house by now.
Seven years of marriage gone. What was even left for him to go home to?
He closed his eyes against the oppressive dark. Maybe if he kept remembering
everything, he’d somehow be stronger, more resistant to being erased by time or
events. Maybe he’d live a little longer.
He glanced at his watch, the face glowing in the darkness with a press of a
button. They’d been down here seven hours. He swallowed hard, fighting the panic
that threatened to overwhelm him.
“Hey, Mike.” Ryan called to his brother from where he sat next to Linc, breaking
the cycle of Linc’s thoughts.
“Yeah?” Mike didn’t sound good.
“You think Dad’s waiting up top for us?”
“Probably.” Mike paused, then turned to look at his younger brother. “He knows,
kid. He knows.” Mike tried to reassure Ryan, but even to Linc’s ears, he sounded
scared.
Thursday Evening, 11:00 p.m.
JULIA HAD NEVER SEEN a night sky like this before. Floodlights brighter than
sunshine shone over the valley. Where the clouds had blocked the sun most of the
day, those same clouds now reflected the light. The damp drizzle continued,
reminding her just how at the mercy of the elements they all were.
True to their word, the mine owners had brought in crews of men and truckloads
of equipment.
Also true to his word, Patrick came to the tent every half hour to keep the
families informed. So far there had been precious little beyond the explanations
of which teams were planning to do what.
Between meetings, the large tent had filled with more people. Julia could hardly
stand the crowd.
She had learned more about Trish Hayes, who seemed to be the only person who
realized Julia was even there. She told herself she preferred it that way. She
discovered that Zach Hayes had worked this mine for nearly three years, and
another one for five years before that. He and Trish didn’t have any kids,
either, which Trish considered a blessing at times like this.
Once again, Julia stood at her perch near the opening of the tent, mug in hand.
The coffee had grown cold but she needed something solid to hold on to.
Just then, Hank’s squad car pulled through the gates and stopped a few feet from
the tent’s entrance. He hurried around the car and pulled open the passenger
door. He unfolded a metal walker and set it in front of the white-haired,
elderly woman as she turned in the seat. Unfurling an umbrella with one hand, he
helped her stand with the other. This must be Mamie Hastings. She wasn’t as old
as Julia had expected—probably in her mid-seventies—but obviously had trouble
getting around on her own.
“Thank you, Hank.” The woman smiled up at him. Julia recognized it as a
courteous smile without any warmth. There was too much worry and pain in the old
woman’s eyes. She slowly stood and made her way toward the tent opening.
Hank looked over at Julia and waved his hand for her to join him and help. The
look on his face told her he didn’t know how to deal with this woman. Curiosity
nudged her to his side. Julia walked along beside them, but Mamie did just fine.
“Shirley?” Hank called out as they stepped inside the tent. “Mamie’s here.”
Shirley rushed over and stepped in front of Julia, helping guide the old woman
to one of the padded folding chairs.
Before she sat down, though, the woman gave Shirley a hug. “Thank you for
sending for me. I hate my boy bein’ down there.”
“Well, we’re all here together now.” Shirley looked up at Julia. There wasn’t
any warmth in Shirley’s gaze, either, but not just because she was worried.
Julia knew Shirley didn’t like her. She’d never kept that a secret. Julia wasn’t
quite sure why, but she felt her enmity even now. Rather than introducing Julia
to Mamie, Shirley helped the elderly woman get settled in a chair, and then went
off to get her a drink.
“Hello.” Julia stepped forward to introduce herself. “I’m Julia Holmes.”
Again, Mamie flashed one of those too-polite smiles. “Yes, hello. The
inspector’s wife.”
Once, just one time during all this, Julia wished someone would realize she was
Julia, not “Mrs. Linc.” Sighing, she put it down to the woman’s age and the
society in which she’d lived so much of her life. It didn’t do any good letting
it bother her. “Yes. I am.”
“Nice to meet you, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Me, too.”
Shirley returned and without acknowledging Julia, planted herself between Mamie
and her. She patted Mamie’s hand and filled her in on Patrick’s last report.
Mamie listened, slowly sipping her drink as her eyes grew more distant and her
skin paled.
Julia stood back, feeling deliberately excluded and very much the outsider. She
needed space, some fresh air, and, walking backward, she headed toward it. She
grabbed one of the rain slickers that hung by the front entry and slipped it on.
She needed more space than she could get in the doorway.
Outside, the air was cool and felt good after the heat in the tent from so many
close bodies. She walked down the hill a short way, looking at the familiar
outline of the mine and the new addition, the drilling rig atop the next hill.
The skeletal frame had the appearance of a looming monster poised to attack.
Men scurried around, and she watched their headlamps flash puddles of light
across the uneven, damp ground. Just outside the mouth of the mine, another
white tent had been erected. Inside two men huddled over a large table covered
with papers and maps. Several miners nodded to her, but none stopped as they
passed. She recognized their faces despite the grime that covered their
features. Even the rain couldn’t remove it all. Instead, the moisture sent dark
streaks down onto their clothes.
She shivered and, despite the raincoat, cold slipped down her collar. At least
she felt something.
Quick movements caught her eye, and she looked over in time to see Patrick
hurrying across the grounds. Was he headed to the tent? Oh, God. What was
happening? Had the crew been found? Were they… She didn’t finish her thought.
As she turned, she saw the huddled mass of people beyond the property-line
fence. The press. She knew they were here to cover a story. This was their job,
no matter what the outcome.
Hank stood there, a silent sentry. His squad car sat behind him like an added
reminder of the boundary. Still, Julia pulled up the hood of the borrowed,
too-big raincoat to hide her face.
As she ran, she heard the crackle of the paper in her pocket. She hadn’t put any
names on it. Heck, she hadn’t even thought to call anyone to let them know what
was going on. It now occurred to her that her parents wouldn’t appreciate being
notified by CNN.
Linc’s parents wouldn’t need notification. The senior Mrs. Holmes had been gone
two years now. She’d never have survived this. Julia closed her eyes and said a
prayer to her mother-in-law for strength. She didn’t even know how to contact
his brother. She hadn’t seen him since grade school. For him, CNN would have to
do.
Moving on, she nearly slipped in the slick mud. Suddenly, a strobe light went
off and Julia looked up. She instantly regretted it as half a dozen more flashes
broke the darkness. The photographers had gotten a clear view of her face. She
knew they probably wouldn’t be able to identify her yet, but it was apparent
from her lack of mining gear that she wasn’t part of the rescue crews.
She wanted to curse and scream at them, but that was exactly what they wanted.
They were here to get proof the families were falling apart, that they knew
something the press didn’t. Every one of them wanted to be the first reporter to
get “the scoop.”
Rather than give it to them, Julia pulled the coat closer and leisurely
walked—as best she could through the muck and mud—to the tent. Keeping her eyes
straight ahead, she hoped her expression remained neutral.
The gentle rat-a-tat of the rain on the canvas wasn’t soothing. It grated on her
nerves. Patrick wasn’t anywhere in the tent that she could see. Maybe she’d been
wrong. Where was he? Had she missed a report? The tent seemed no more tense than
it had before. She relaxed a little.
Julia shoved her way through the crowd, looking for Patrick. She emerged on the
other side of the tent to find nothing.
He wasn’t anywhere to be found. Suddenly, even with all the bodies pressing
close, all the voices floating around her, she felt very much alone. She didn’t
want to be alone anymore.
She should have called her parents already; despite the distance between them,
they were her family. They might not be as loving as she’d like, but she knew
she could count on them.
A row of phones sat on one of the tables for the families to use. Most
everyone’s cell batteries were dead and the heavy mountains made service spotty
anyway.
Shirley Wise was using one phone, and Julia waited until she’d finished before
walking toward the table. Her hand shook as she reached out to pick up the
receiver.
She seldom spoke to her parents; their disapproval of Linc was so overwhelming.
She hadn’t even told them that she and Linc were separated. She couldn’t think
about that now. The whole world was falling apart. With trembling fingers, she
punched in the familiar number.
“Hello.”
“Mom? It’s Julia.”
“Oh, dear. We were just talking about you.” Her mother’s voice was so calm, so
normal, so oddly comforting. “We saw on the late news where there’s been some
kind of mine disaster down there. Is it near you?”
She should have called sooner. Her stomach wound into knots as she forced her
lips to form the words. “Linc’s one of the men trapped.” She was surprised at
her mother’s silence. She hadn’t realized the woman had it in her.
“Is he…?”
“Is he what?” Julia couldn’t let her mind go any further.
“Um, still alive?”
Julia actually appreciated her mother’s hesitance. “We don’t know, Mom.”
For the first time since her marriage had failed, since this whole ordeal had
begun, Julia’s strength wavered. Once again she was a little girl frightened by
nightmares. She wanted to feel her mother’s arms and hear her reassurances—no
matter how false—that everything would be fine. She had no idea what she was
supposed to do. Everything seemed to crash in around her. The arguments of the
past months. The pain of finally leaving Linc. The overwhelming fear that she
might lose him permanently.
“Julia? Hon? Are you there?”
She wanted to say yes, but couldn’t speak before a sob shattered from her
throat. She doubled over, struggling to catch her breath. Her mind filled with
nothing but desperation.
Hold on. Be strong. Can’t let go.
“We’re on our way, sweetheart.” The line went dead.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Thursday Night, Nine Hours Underground
LINC CLOSED HIS EYES. He was exhausted. Beyond exhausted. He’d been awake far
too long. Since Julia had moved out, he’d done little more than doze. And then
today.
Even breathing taxed his strength. The air was stifling and hard to pull into
his lungs. And cold. He shivered in response to his own thoughts as well as the
temperature.
Gabe snored loudly a few feet away. The kid kept mumbling in his sleep. Robert
was silent, which told Linc that the man was as awake as he was. Zach and Mike
sat near Casey, talking softly, though Linc couldn’t tell if it was to each
other or to the injured man.
Sleep was tempting, but fear had so far made it impossible.
“You want to sleep?” Mike’s voice cut across the dark shadows. “I’ll keep an eye
on the meter.”
“Probably should get some rest,” Linc admitted despite the fact that every atom
of his body was fighting to stay awake. “You okay?” Linc recalled Mike’s
emotions from earlier.
“I’m fine,” Mike assured him.
“Give me a couple hours then I’ll spell you.”
Mike stood and came over to get the meter from Linc’s pack. “I’ll wake you.”
Since they’d settled here, Linc had spent little time doing anything but
thinking, worrying and praying. Now he lay down, closed his eyes and willed
sleep to come. But although he was exhausted, his brain wouldn’t shut off.
“I can handle it, you know.” Mike seemed to notice he wasn’t sleeping. “You can
relax.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” Linc sat up and leaned back on the cold, hard
wall. “My mind’s too busy.”
“I know. I can’t stop thinking about Rachel. This pregnancy’s been hard on her.
She’s been sick a lot.”
“Been there, done that.” Linc fought the smile. Julia hadn’t been sick often
with their baby but when she was…
“Yeah, there isn’t much I can do. I feel so helpless. Nearly makes me lose my
lunch.”
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Linc felt memories tug at him. He couldn’t let the hurt of
remembering Julia’s brief pregnancy come back to him. Not now. Lord, not now.
Why did the past keep reaching out from the depths of the dark to ensnare him?
Was this what they meant by your life flashing in front of your eyes before you
died?
Mike’s memories of Rachel were here and now, but the memories that grabbed Linc
were from a long way back. From a time before the world fell apart.
The first time he’d taken care of Julia when she was sick had been back in
college. She’d been drunk. They’d had a fight, about what he had no clue now,
but her roommate had gotten the bright idea to help her drink her troubles away.
Linc had been left to clean up the mess—literally.
Julia had called him, making no sense as she’d had a few drinks. Worried, he’d
gone over to her dorm room, and even totally wasted, she’d turned him on. She’d
tasted like sweet lemonade, denied passion and just plain hot woman. He’d liked
it.
Just as he’d been about to kiss her again, she’d pulled away and her face had
paled as her eyes grew wide.
He remembered picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder and praying she
wouldn’t puke on him before he got her to the restroom down the hall.
He’d broken into a run and slammed through the ladies’ room door—no one had been
inside, thank goodness. He hadn’t cared about what anyone else might have
thought.
What had worried him was someone seeing Julia like this and having her be
humiliated.
He’d lowered Julia to her feet in the nearest stall…just in time for the hard
lemonades she’d drunk to return to this world.
Holding her hair back, he’d waited and soothed her. She’d finally sunk to the
floor and tried to curl up on the cool tile. He’d joined her and held her,
gently rocking the misery away. He remembered pulling off a length of toilet
paper and wiping her mouth as she stared back at him through tear-filled eyes.
She’d looked like hell, not the pretty, confident woman he knew.
He couldn’t help but smile thinking about her reaction when she’d realized where
they were. He’d dried her tears before lifting her into his arms and heading
back to her room. She’d snuggled close, and he’d tried to ignore his body’s
reaction to the soft woman plastered across his body.
He’d failed miserably.
Thursday Night, 11:30 p.m.
THE NOISE OF THE FAMILY members in the tent faded away. “You go ahead and cry it
out.” Mamie’s aged, gnarled hand curled gently around Julia’s tightly clasped
fingers. She didn’t remember the old woman sitting down. “It won’t fix anything,
but it might soften some of those sharp edges cutting into your heart.”
She might have laughed if the sentiment hadn’t fit so well.
“Why, when my Reggie was trapped back in…”
Julia tried to focus on the old woman’s words, suddenly aware of how many people
had been through times like this. Maybe she should listen to someone else’s
memories for a while instead of letting her own torment her. A nice idea not
easily done.
Even as she listened, she realized how difficult life had been for Mamie, for so
many coal-mining families. A small window opened into Linc’s past, a past he’d
hidden from her.
She couldn’t help wondering why everything had to be so hard. She knew people
had always thought life was too easy for her. Born into a rich family, she
hadn’t had to worry about her father going to a dangerous job like Linc’s father
had at the mines. No, her father hadn’t had that excuse.
But he’d left her just the same. A day full of business meetings and evenings of
cocktail parties and charity events hadn’t allowed much time for a child. She’d
had to fight for every bit of attention she’d gotten from her parents.
Many of her friends had turned to outrageous and even dangerous behaviors to get
their parents to notice them. She’d known that wouldn’t work with her father. So
she’d gone the other way. Doing everything perfectly. She’d been so good in
school her classmates were often jealous. Boys, like Linc, took a perverse
pleasure in trying to shake her out of that perfection. Eventually they’d all
moved on. All except Linc.
“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.