Angel in My Arms (31 page)

Celeste sat on a high stool behind a makeshift desk sketching a
cross-section view of the progress being made by the laborers below
her. Carefully she began to draw the timbers already in place to shore
up the earthen ceiling and protect the workers from cave-ins.

The first vein of silver ore they had discovered beneath the ground
was at least sixty feet long and thirty feet wide. With a vein of that
tremendous size, and the discovery of three more ore bodies, Fox had
made the decision that for safety reasons, they would have to change
the structure of the wall supports. They were now building
three-dimensional boxlike supports called square sets, rather than the
typical post and cap method that looked like door frames. The square
sets, shaped like timber boxes, took longer to build and twice the
lumber, but made cave-ins far less likely. Slowly the square sets were
being built to form the hollow cubes, one interlocked to the next,
fanning out in the direction of the digging to resemble underground
honeycombs.

Celeste sketched the west wall of the shaft that had been dug on an
incline to follow the apparent tilt of the lode. On impulse, she added
a miner with a pickax, digging where the ore was so crumbly that
dynamite wasn't necessary to dislodge it. A smile played on her lips as
she added a dog.

"Good afternoon, Celeste."

She glanced up from her desk. Seeing that the visitor was Brent
Trevor, she covered her sketch with a sheet of figures. She didn't want
him to know any more about their operation than what he had already
bribed out of some of her miners. She was even less anxious to share
the sketch of Fox and Silver.

"Good… good afternoon." She climbed off the stool.

"No, no, don't get up for me."

He raised a gloved hand and she wondered how he always managed to remain so clean in the midst of all the filth of the mine.

"I just stopped by to say hello and to see if you'd gotten that pocket of hot water up out of the tunnel."

She walked around the desk, rubbing the small of her back. It was
mid-afternoon and she'd been here since dawn. "I needed a break anyway.
I've been sitting for hours."

"Oh, you poor dear woman, worked liked a slave." He shook his head.
"I keep telling MacPhearson that it's not seemly, a woman like yourself
working amidst these men." He pointed with his silver-tipped walking
cane.

Celeste watched a bare-chested miner pass through the open machinery
room with a length of rope coiled over one shoulder and a bucket in
both hands. The man tipped his battered hat cordially as he went by.

"I like to keep an eye on my investment," Celeste said. "Besides,
even with the foremen, there's too much work for Fox to do alone. I try
to keep track of the paperwork, the number of loads of ore we ship a
day, and information like that." She came to stand in front of him. "It
keeps the miners and my neighbors honest."

He smiled, apparently amused. "I should hire you to work for me." He
brushed at an invisible fleck of dirt on his lapel. "My men are
stealing me blind."

"Perhaps you should spend more time at your mine and less time making social calls," She smiled prettily.

Trevor laughed. "Oh, I do love a clever woman. You're certain you
won't change your mind and allow me to escort you to supper one night?
Just supper."

She tried to speak, but he went on.

"The more I see the two of you together"—he took a step closer—"the
more I see that a woman like yourself could do much better than
MacPhearson. He's a strange egg. Spends too much time in those pits
with those filthy men. A woman like yourself deserves better. Deserves
me."

Finished with his little speech, he appeared pleased with himself. He really was a laughable little man.

She tucked a lock of hair back under the linen cap she wore to cover
her chignon and keep her hair clean. "Brent, we've been over this. I
thank you kindly for your invitation and your compliments, but—"

Celeste felt a sudden shift on the flooring beneath her and,
startled, she grabbed for the corner of the desk. It wasn't just the
floor that seemed to move; it came from deeper below. A rumble from the
earth accompanied the shifting ground and she looked up in fear at
Brent. This wasn't typical of the sound the earth made when the men set
dynamite to clear a wall of ore. This was…

"Oh, God,
a cave-in,"
she whispered. As the words passed her lips she unclenched her hand from the desk and ran for the shaft.

Fox.

All she could think of was Fox. He was down there. He and Silver had
ridden down over an hour ago to settle a dispute between two men.

Celeste tried not to panic as she raced out of the equipment room
into the main room that had been built around the shaft. There was no
need to panic. Panic wouldn't help Fox; it wouldn't bring him out alive.

By the time she reached the square-cut hole that was the mouth of
the main mine shaft, great clouds of dirt were puffing from it. The
dirt mixed with the ever-present steam made a thick cloud that clung to
her face and clothes.

A hoisting cage clambered up filled with men all talking at once.

"What's happened? What's happened?" she demanded of the half-naked, dirty-faced miners.

"Cave-in," a man whose beard was encrusted with dirt said. "Somewhere against the back, north wall, second level."

As they climbed out of the cage, she pushed her way in.

"Miss Kennedy!" Trevor called from behind. "Heavens, woman. You can't go down there!"

Celeste had forgotten his presence. She squeezed into the cage,
yanking her petticoats in behind her. "Take me down, Joe," she yelled
above the din of the clanking engine and the confusion of the men.
Another bucket of men came up as she spoke.

"Miss Kennedy, you shouldn't go down there," the engineer called to her. "Ain't safe."

"Damn it, Joe, you send me down or you find work elsewhere."

The engineer pulled the lever, knowing full well the job as engineer
at the MacPhearson Fortune was too sweet to give up. He also knew
better than to question Miss Kennedy. Here, her word meant as much as
Mr. MacPhearson's. "Yes, ma'am."

The iron-framed cage with open walls descended and Celeste grabbed a
pole for support, taking care not to allow her arm to hang over the
cage, where it would be smashed by the timber frame of the shaft as she
was rapidly lowered. She passed the first level where she saw a flash
of men with candles and lanterns and heard voices and the clank of
machinery.

The cage hit the bottom of the second level of the shaft they had
just begun constructing. Before the cage came to a complete halt, she
bounded off.

"Where is he?" she demanded of the closest miner.

They were all standing around bare-chested in naught but boots and
breeches. Lanterns swung in their hands, illuminating their weary faces.

"Where's Mr. MacPhearson?" she repeated.

"Don't know, ma'am," one of the gravelly-voiced men offered. "Ain't seen him."

"How many hurt? Anyone killed?" She pushed her way through the
crowd, shoving when they didn't move out of her way fast enough. "You."
She pointed to a young man who couldn't have been more than sixteen.
"Light my way."

"Foreman says stay back," another black-faced man said. "Stay back 'til they know ain't no more ore gonna shift."

"Light my way," Celeste repeated. "If you fear for your life, give me the lantern." She thrust out her hand.

"No, in… in… ma'am," the boy stammered. "I a… a… ain't scared. I'll light ye."

Celeste followed him through a newly constructed square-set into
another. She heard men shouting, but she couldn't tell if any of them
were Fox. Someone was calling orders, his voice echoing off the rock
walls. Steam hissed from a gully, and she heard the grinding of rock
being shoveled.

"Hurry," she whispered. She followed the boy through a narrow passageway joisted up with fresh lumber. "Fox?" she called.

Her voice echoed off the black walls streaked with silver ore. He didn't answer.

"Fox?"

She was rewarded by a sharp bark.

"Silver?"

The dog bounded out of the shadowy darkness and nudged her with his
wet nose. She reached down to brush his head and found it covered in a
thin coat of grime. "Where is he? Where's Fox?" she murmured.

They entered the last honeycomb supported by timber. Directly in
front of her was a pile of rubble six feet high. The room was so full
of dust that it stung her eyes and made it hard to breathe. "Fox!" she
called sharply, the filth in the air so thick that it was like fog.

"Celeste." His voice was rough, but it was definitely Fox. "What the hell are you doing down here?"

She slapped her hand to her pounding heart. Thank God he was alive… safe.

"I came to see what had happened. What I could do."

Fox emerged from the fog. his face so grimy that she barely
recognized him. His breeches were torn, his hat gone from his head. One
sleeve hung off his shoulder, nearly rent from the shirt. "You can stay
up above and keep the men calm."

She grabbed his hand. She'd have hugged him if he'd let her, but he kept her at arm's length.

"Celeste, do you hear me? I want you up above." He pointed to the
low ceiling that nearly brushed the top of his head. "This is unstable,
a pocket of clay."

"Anyone killed?" she asked softly, knowing he wouldn't lie to her. He wouldn't lie to her.

"No. Two slightly injured, another with what looks to be a broken leg. He's still trapped under some rock."

She stared in the dim lantern light at the rubble; the miners trying
to set the man free blocked her view of him. "You should come up, too.
Let these men get him out. They know what they're doing."

His gaze was dark, his eyes pools of concern. "I won't leave an injured man down here. He works for me; he's my responsibility."

Somewhere close, the earth groaned and a puff of dirt billowed from
the ceiling. Fox threw his arms to cover her head. "Go," he insisted.

"Not without you."

"It'll take five minutes. I'll get these men out of here until we
can reassess the structure. I'll check on the rest of the men and be up
before the hour."

The groaning of the unstable ground ceased, and he withdrew his
hands. Celeste was now covered in the same film of dirt as the miners.
She dropped her hands to her hips. It was so hot that beads of
perspiration trickled down her temples and the nape of her neck. "I
don't want to leave you. This is my responsibility, too."

Fox rubbed the back of his neck, obviously irritated. "Celeste!" he
said sharply. Two miners turned to look at them, and he lowered his
voice. "How can I help this man if I'm worried about you?"

"My responsibility for these men is the same as yours," she repeated.

He looked away, shaking his head. "You are the most stubborn… irritating… inflexible—"

"I'll make you a deal." She yanked off her linen cap and shook it,
sending dust and bits of dirt flying. "You get him out, I'll check the
other men, up on the main level. This is the only area that's been
affected, right? They can go on working in the other tunnels?"

He hesitated for a moment. She could tell this suggestion wasn't
satisfactory either. The question was, would he waste any more time
trying to convince her otherwise, or would he concede? With a sigh, he
finally said, "All right. You check the other tunnels. Tell the men no
one has been seriously injured. I'll meet you above ground as soon as
we get the man out and close off this tunnel."

She nodded and turned to go. "Agreed."

"Celeste?"

She turned back. Even with torn clothes and covered in dirt and sweat, he made her heart give a little trip. "Yes?"

"Take Silver with you. These miners are rough. I think they know enough to keep their distance from you, but just in case—"

"I'll be fine." She smiled reassuringly as she tapped her thigh. "See you up above. Come on, boy. Come on, Silver."

Nearly two hours later, Celeste stood in the equipment room and
watched Fox drink another cup of cold water. He was so exhausted he
could barely stand.

"You all right?"

He leaned against her desk, covered his mouth, and coughed.

"Better than poor Danny boy. The bone broke clean through. Doc says he's lucky it didn't break through the skin."

From a pitcher, she refilled the cup he set on her desk and added
another splash of water to Silver's crock bowl on the floor at Fox's
feet. In the last two hours the tunnel with the cave-in had been closed
off, the other areas checked, and the men were now back to work. The
emergency had passed, but Celeste still felt edgy. She was upset that a
man had been injured in her mine, more upset that it could have easily
been Fox. He had been right there when the wall had caved in.

"So what caused the cave-in? Could you tell?"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing dirt. "It's
the strangest thing. I checked the square set yesterday; it was solid.
Today it caves in."

"Will rebuilding the square set eliminate the danger?" He looked
away, his face etched with worry. "I don't know, because I don't know
why it didn't hold. Was the lumber weak? Was it notched incorrectly?"
His gaze met hers. "Did someone purposely sabotage the supports?"

"Who would do something like that? Certainly not any of the men in
the mine. Any one of them could have been killed." "I know." He crossed
his arms over his chest, moving slowly, as if he barely had the energy.
"I'm just skittish about cave-ins. I feel like a damned rat when I'm
down there." "So what do we do about the new tunnel?" "Keep it closed
off. It's close to the north line of our property anyway. We'll just
dig in other directions. There are so many veins we could easily fan
off another way. We might lose some money but—"