A Message for Julia (8 page)

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” Linc hurried to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time was no longer on their side.

Friday Morning, 7:00 a.m.

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

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

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

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

“I wasn't going to—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, she'd walked away from everything.

Friday Morning, Seventeen Hours Underground

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

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

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

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

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

That she'd lied to him.

That she'd left him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But apparently she didn't need him anymore.

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

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

Friday Morning—9:00 a.m.

“W
HERE'S MY LITTLE GIRL
?”

Julia cringed at her father's bellow. At twenty-nine, she wasn't anyone's little girl, but subtlety had never been Raymond Alton's strong suit, and now was no exception. She sagged a little with relief that her parents were finally here and she didn't have to be alone—then
she tensed up again in anticipation of the baggage they brought with them.

Her parents had seldom hugged her. They'd been too busy, too distant, too uncomfortable. So she was shocked when her father swept her into a strong embrace. She heard her mother's anxious voice and felt her feather-light touch caressing her hair.

Julia closed her eyes and let herself sink into their ministrations. She let herself believe, for just a while, as she had when she was a child, that Mom and Dad could fix everything.

Her eyes burned and the ache in her throat intensified. She knew that if she started crying now, she might never stop. She fought the temptation and pulled back to look at her parents. It had been months since she'd seen them. They looked older, worried. Was this too much for them? They were both in their sixties.

“What's happening? Fill us in.” Her father guided her to a chair and sat down beside her. Her mother, Eleanor, absently rubbed her shoulders. She'd forgotten that her mother used to do that when she was a child. It felt good. What else had she forgotten?

Instead of letting her thoughts go down that path, she focused on her father's question. “We don't know much. There was a cave-in and Linc was down with a crew on the second shift. They hadn't been down long.”

“Gas?” he asked softly. They all knew he meant the deadly methane that plagued all coal-mining operations.

“They don't know.”

His curse was soft, not meant for her to hear, but
spoken aloud, nonetheless. “Let me see if I can get some answers.” He started to stand.

“Dad. Please.” She recalled Shirley's animosity and grabbed his arm to stop him. She wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to be throwing his weight around. Not yet anyway.

“What?” Raymond looked at her hand, a strange, surprised look in his eyes.

“This isn't your mine, nor your operation. We're one of the families this time,” she whispered and regretted each word when his shoulders slumped as if in defeat—or as if some weight had been settled there. “Just be here with me for now, okay?”

“We're here for you, sweetheart.” Her mother slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Whatever you need from us, we're here.”

The catch in her mother's voice and the sheen in her father's eyes combined was nearly too much. Julia and her parents had had their troubles, but all that seemed forgotten now. “I don't know if I can do this,” she said.

“You can and you will.” Raymond sat up straighter. “The Altons have weathered plenty of storms. We'll get through this one.” His bravado and certainty—a certainty she'd always found arrogant before—gave her the extra nudge she needed. She leaned into her mother's shoulder and said something she doubted she'd ever said to them before. “Thank you.” She was surprised at how easily she could turn to them.

Just then, Patrick Kelly and the two other men
came back in. Their eyes were bloodshot in their coal-blackened faces.

Her heart sank and she appreciated her parents' timing. Here it was. The news they'd all been expecting. Thank God her parents were here. They'd pick up the pieces.

She knew she couldn't.

Friday Afternoon, Twenty-Four Hours Underground

T
HEY LEFT THE LAMP
from Casey's hard hat turned on. Linc had extinguished his own, just as the others had, to save the batteries. Casey was finally quiet, the pain of his injuries rendering him oblivious to his surroundings. A good thing for him right now.

They took turns sitting with him. Linc kept his thoughts to himself, but as he approached the injured man, he found himself holding his breath.
Please God, don't let me find him dead.

“Is he any better?” He expected Gabe to look up when he approached. Instead, the older man simply shook his head and stood. The darkness swallowed Gabe as he slowly walked away. Linc settled down at Casey's side.

“He's taking the responsibility for all of this on his shoulders.” Robert's disembodied voice echoed Linc's thoughts.

“None of this is Gabe's fault.” Linc struggled to keep the suspicion out of his voice. “Unless he did something he wasn't supposed to.” Someone must have done something—mines didn't just collapse for no reason. What, he didn't know. He wasn't sure if he'd ever know.

“You don't get how it works down here, do you?” Robert stepped forward and into the dim circle of light. Anger and shadows contorted his face. His hands were fisted at his sides.

Linc had run up against miners hostile to inspectors before. Nothing new there, but it frustrated him that Robert couldn't set it aside now. He held on to his desire to vent his frustration. Did the others feel the same way?

“Oh, I get it.” Linc stood, not willing to give the other man the advantage of looming over him. “I get that the mine owners send good men like all of you down here to bust your butts. And for what?” He stepped toward Robert. “Nothing but obscenely low amounts of money.”

“It's more than that.” Robert took a step forward, too. “It's a way of life. It's the backbone of the energy industry that keeps this whole damn country running.”

“You actually buy the crap they shovel at company meetings?”

“I buy. I believe. It's who I am. It's who we all are. You aren't one of us and you'll never understand.”

“I understand plenty.” Linc's voice lowered as his throat tightened. “I grew up with the mines. My father was just like you. Just like Gabe. He believed it all, too.”

Robert didn't speak but continued to glare.

“Until two tons of rock fell on him and his whole crew.”

Still, Robert remained silent. Linc wanted him to
understand his position, probably as much as Robert believed in his own convictions.

“Then you dishonor him and his death working as an inspector,” Robert said.

Linc clenched his jaw and forced himself not to shout. “You're treading on dangerous ground.”

“And? You can speak your mind, but I can't? You're a stranger here. This is my world.”

“Hey.” Gabe appeared in the small circle of light. “You two cut it out. You got problems with each other, deal with them later.”

What if they didn't have later? Linc wondered, but held his tongue. He respected Gabe too much.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Linc tried to purge his system of the anger. He'd always been quick to react—or overreact, as Julia often reminded him.

Robert disappeared into the darkness, and Linc heard the rustle as he settled on the other side of the chamber. Gabe looked at Linc, but didn't say a word. His expression was unreadable. Censure or sympathy? “It's my turn to send the signal.” Gabe turned with a shrug and headed toward the pipe.

Seconds later, seven peals of metal on metal broke the ungodly quiet.

Linc sat back down.
Was
he an outsider? While he fought the idea, it took hold and refused to let go. What bothered him most was the realization that his father probably would have agreed with Robert. He'd been a company man through and through.

Closing his eyes, Linc shoved aside Robert's accusations, his father's memory and this whole damned
situation. Lord, he was tired, but just as on every night since Julia had left him, he couldn't sleep. Why couldn't he just let go? She was the one who'd lied. The one who had walked out.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, letting the pressure drain out the ache.

Why did he still want her? Was he such a fool that he let her take advantage of him?

What else had she lied about? He ignored that can of worms. Was she right now sitting at the house, waiting for him to die so she could avoid the hassle of a divorce?

He groaned, letting his anger replace the fear of dying.

But even his anger at the situation, at Robert, or with Julia couldn't keep her image from forming in his mind. An image that all too easily morphed into something different.

Instead of yelling at him, she was smiling. Instead of seething at her, he was reaching out, touching the soft copper waves of her hair.

He wanted to hate her, wanted to forget what it felt like to love her, but he couldn't.

His life was entwined with hers. He'd been the first to make love to her. She'd given him her virginity on a hot summer night in the dew-cooled grasses of Hamilton Park.

She'd looked so incredibly beautiful as she lost herself in passion. If he was going to die, he wanted that to be his last image.

They'd made love hundreds of times in the years since then. It had never lost its magic. Never.

Friday Afternoon, 3:00 p.m.

J
ULIA WATCHED AS
Patrick Kelly came into the tent with two men that she hadn't seen before.

Patrick was a big man, with a receding hairline and wide green eyes. The other men easily rivaled him in height.

So far, he'd stuck to his word and hadn't “blown smoke up their asses.” He'd admitted that he might not always have the answers they wanted, but he
would
have answers.

Julia stayed where she was, though several of the other family members moved closer. The tent wasn't so vast that she couldn't hear him. She felt her mother's hand tighten on her shoulder and saw her father sit up a little straighter.

“The ventilation drill is about a third of the way down to where we think they are.” A third of the way in what—Julia glanced down at her watch—twenty-four hours? At this rate, how could they possibly break through in time?

Patrick paused as if not wanting to share the rest. Everyone held their breath. “I told you I'd be honest with you and I'm keeping that promise.” He paused. “We've got water rising on the east side. Jim here is in charge of the pumps, and we've started all of them. We've got more pumps coming in from the Griffin Mine
and the White Water operations. They'll be here sometime before midnight.” Jim nodded as if to confirm what Patrick was telling them.

Julia felt for them. Patrick's heart was clearly in his eyes. He'd been in the mines for years himself. Of everyone, he knew what they were really up against. The fact that his voice held an edge of panic didn't do much to reassure the rest of them.

Voices erupted around her, but Julia could only stare blankly ahead. Could it get any worse? The small group of men left as quickly as they'd arrived, letting them all absorb the news. Julia pulled the numbness back over herself as she felt her mother move to stand close beside her.

“You need to eat something, dear.”

Eleanor Alton was definitely out of her element here. There were no committees or activities to organize. Just sitting and waiting. Julia was having a tough time with it and her mother was surely nearing her limit. She couldn't recall her mother ever being still this long.

Julia stood and went to get more coffee. She'd had enough caffeine to last her the rest of her life, but she didn't want anything to eat.

At the back corner of the tent, she found a quiet place to sit, momentarily. It was less crowded as three families had returned home—at least for a little while. Those who'd stayed were silently waiting for the next report.

The very thought of going home to the dark and empty house alone sent shivers up Julia's spine. But what if she eventually had to? What if after all this
effort by all these volunteers and rescue workers, they weren't able to save them?

Her stomach was in knots, but rather than give in to her fears, she stood and paced some more. It helped ease the tight muscles but even so, the emotions hovered nearby, waiting to pounce.

Rita Sinclair sat on a folding chair near the makeshift podium. Her crochet hook moved quickly and several hanks of yarn were nestled in a basket at her feet. The light flashed on the metal hook as she added to her swatch.

“What are you making?” Julia asked.

Rita smiled weakly and shrugged. “I don't really know, but I can't just sit. I'll go crazy.”

“That helps?”

“Yeah. When Jack was hurt six years ago, he was in the hospital for weeks. My crocheting was nearly thirty feet long when I finished.”

They both laughed and Julia wished she had something like that to distract herself.

“Would you like to do some?”

“Oh, I don't know how.”

Rita patted the seat next to her. “I always come prepared.” She reached into her bag and pulled out another hook, a little bigger than the one she used, and a bright blue skein of yarn.

“Make a loop like this.” Rita took the yarn and gently guided Julia's hands through the first few stitches. “Now just keep going.”

And so they sat, Rita making smooth rows of multi-
colored crochet and Julia building an uneven pile of blue loops.

It did help. The concentration required distracted her and the movement of her hands eased the need to get up and walk.

“I taught my eldest girl to do this when she was pregnant and on bed rest.”

“Did it help her?”

“I guess. That grandbaby has enough blankets to last her till she's eight.”

Julia laughed…then all the joy faded as the image of baby blankets soaked in. She knew she wasn't pregnant now. If Linc wasn't rescued…if he never came home… All the fears and regrets seemed to leap out of the shadows. What was she thinking? He might never speak to her again, much less make love to her, not just because he couldn't. More than the cave-in kept them apart. She'd never—

“Keep crocheting, child,” the older woman whispered, her own needle picking up speed. “Don't give yourself time to think.”

Suddenly, Julia looked up and met her mother's gaze across the tent. The past came back with a rush.

Julia had come home with a beautiful diamond on her hand and her heart plastered all over her face. She'd wakened her parents to share her news only to find them less than thrilled.

Her father's question still cut painfully across time. Did she
have
to get married?

All the sparkle had gone out of her night but the most damaging comment had come from her mother.
It hadn't been a question, but a refusal to accept a “had to get married” child.

“Don't expect me to knit any baby booties,” Eleanor had snarled.

It had taken Linc weeks to get the details out of her. And several more weeks to convince her to talk to them again. They didn't have to like him, he'd said. But they were her parents and part of her. He wasn't letting her make any rash decisions.

And so while the wall wasn't as high as it could have been, it was still there, standing solidly between them, even in this cramped tent.

Eleanor walked toward her. Julia looked down, concentrating on her uneven string of looped blue yarn.

“May I?” The chair beside Julia shifted, scraping in the dirt. “Rita, isn't it? How do I do this?”

Julia looked up then, seeing her mother awkwardly grasping a crochet hook and the purple yarn Rita handed her. Both older women laughed as she struggled to get the fingering right.

But her mother was trying, Julia realized. Really, honestly trying.

Friday Afternoon, Twenty-Six Hours Underground

“S
IT YOUR ASS DOWN, OLD MAN
,” Zach said as he half carried Gabe over to where Linc sat next to Casey. Linc scooted out of the way, then knelt beside Gabe after Zach stepped back.

Both of them switched on their helmet lights. Gabe
squinted in the sudden brightness and Linc turned his off. “What happened?” Linc looked at Zach.

“He hunched over back there. Nearly fell on his face.”

“Chest hurts,” Gabe whispered.

Ah, shit.
Linc closed his eyes, then opened them again to look at the older miner more closely. It was hard to tell what his coloring was like in the poor light. His eyes were closed and the lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened. Linc grabbed his wrist and found his pulse strong, but quick.

“Any gas?” Zach looked pointedly at the meter on Linc's pack.

They both looked down at the dials. “Nope. No changes,” Linc said. He thought he heard everyone sigh in relief. “Put your air on anyway, Gabe.” He helped the older man with his equipment. “Put Casey's on, too. We probably should have done that before. He could use the help.”

“Good idea.” Zach helped the semiconscious man put on the breathing apparatus. He did seem to relax a little. Maybe he'd rest more now. He needed to if he was going to survive that wound to his leg.

“What's the matter with Gabe?” Ryan's panic filled the small chamber, making everyone shift uncomfortably.

Footsteps told Linc everyone was there. Robert and Mike walked up to stand beside Ryan.

“He just needs to rest.” Linc had basic first-aid training, but that was all he could offer them. He turned to the others. Each of them looked as afraid as he felt. “We
could all probably use some rest.” He didn't think about the nap he'd just tried to take, the one that had led to thoughts of Julia.

He scooted over next to Gabe. Ryan followed suit and settled in beside him. Robert headed over to the opposite end.