Love in Disguise (19 page)

He swallowed back the intended admonition. He would caution her—or maybe her aunt—another time.

The family resemblance ran to more than eye color, he realized. Jessie was more slender and stood an inch or two taller than Mrs. Stewart, but there were definite similarities in their facial features. All in all, Jessie was a brighter, more vibrant version of her aunt. The thought made him smile. If Lavinia Stewart reminded him of a faded rose, Jessie was that same rose in full, glorious bloom.

He walked on without speaking, content to listen to the lilt of her voice as she described the contrast between Pickford and Chicago. Before he knew it, they had reached the little house at the corner of Charles and Second.

The canvas straps pressed into his fingers, reminding him of his earlier errand. He’d told Jessie he intended to visit her aunt. How short could he make his visit without appearing rude? Milt would have been expecting him and the sharpened drill steels back at the mine long before now.

“I hope I won’t be imposing, dropping in like this unannounced.”

The sparkle faded from Jessie’s eyes, and she averted her glance. Instead of opening the door when they stepped up onto the front porch, she fidgeted, twisting the drawstring of her reticule around her fingers. “Actually, this may not be a good time. . . . Aunt Lavinia was feeling a little tired before I left, and I’m afraid she may be resting.”

She pressed her lips together and looked up at him. “Perhaps you could come back another time? I’ll let her know so she can be ready for your visit.”

Steven felt torn between relief at being able to get back to work without further delay and a sense of loss at having to tear himself away from the captivating Jessie Monroe. “That’s fine,” he said. “I can talk to her again on Sunday.”

Inspiration struck. “Your aunt is coming to tour my mine after church. Would you like to join us?”

Jessie looked confused for a moment, but then she turned her smile on him full force. “What a kind offer, Mr. Pierce. I’ll have to see what I can do.”

He touched his finger to the brim of his hat and walked away, his mind in a turmoil. He had done his moral duty by freeing her from the clutches of the gambler, but in the process he feared he might have allowed his heart to be ensnared by the beguiling young redhead.

15

W
atch your head. That outcropping over the adit is lower than it looks.”

Ellie looked around for the adit—whatever that was—and grazed her head against a large rock that hung out over the sloping walkway leading into the Redemption Mine. She let out a muffled yelp and clapped her right palm against her temple.

Steven sprang to her side. “Are you all right, Mrs. Stewart?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I scarcely felt it.” She waved him aside and glanced up at the offending overhang. “Is that what you meant by an adit?”

“Actually, the adit is what you call the entrance.” His chagrin was obvious. “I said it without thinking. I should never have expected you to understand mining terminology. I’m so sorry.”

“Think nothing of it. Let’s press on.” Ellie surreptitiously checked her right glove, relieved when she didn’t see any blood. She put on a bright smile, trying to appear unfazed by her collision with the unyielding rock. “Why don’t you start by teaching me more mining terms? If I’m to have a part in this operation, I ought to learn the jargon.”

“That’s a good idea. Let’s start right where we are. You’ve already learned about the adit.” He offered her a rueful grin as he indicated a pathway leading inside the mine. “This walkway we’ll be following is known as a drift. The roof is called the back, the side of the wall is the rib, and the ground is known as the sill.”

Ellie nodded, trying to remember every word. While Steven waxed eloquent about the two-foot-long steel spikes he called drill steels that the mining crews hammered into the wall—the rib, she reminded herself—to hold dynamite sticks prior to blasting, she let her gaze wander around the walls of rock, finally coming to rest on the dark cavern that yawned before them. Would she discover anything of value inside?

Steven’s brief lecture came to an end, and he looked at her expectantly. “If you’re ready to go in?” At Ellie’s nod, he took up a lantern hanging from a hook just inside the entrance and lit it with a match from his vest pocket. With a gentlemanly bow, he led her inside.

Ellie trailed behind, pleased to find the descending path wasn’t as steep or rocky as she had feared. Nor was the temperature what she’d expected. Instead of a dank clamminess, the air felt dry and surprisingly warm compared to the temperature outside. Somewhat reassured, she stepped out with more confidence, following him along the drift.

“I met your niece the other day.”

Ellie caught her breath at the sudden change of topic. “Yes, she told me.” Seeing that his attention was focused in front of him, she didn’t try to hide the smile that curved her lips at the memory of the way he had looked at Jessie Monroe.

He cleared his throat. “If it isn’t too personal a question, may I ask why she didn’t accompany us to church this morning?”

Ellie’s smile fled as she scrambled for some explanation that would satisfy. The last thing she wanted to do was create a rift between Steven and her mythical niece. “She said she woke with a headache, but I was concerned about her absence myself. I’m sure attending the service would have done her more good than lying in bed, brooding.”

Her visits to church had blessed her more than she’d ever expected, showing her a compassionate side to the God she’d thought had abandoned her all those years ago during the dark days of her childhood.

But they were speaking about Jessie, she reminded herself. “I’ll see what I can do to encourage her to attend services next Sunday.”

Steven tossed a grin over his shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll look forward to seeing her there.”

Ellie returned the smile, hoping her trepidation didn’t show. Lavinia and Jessie onstage at the same time? Even Magdalena couldn’t manage a feat like that.

Before long, the drift opened up into a roomy open area. Steven stopped in the middle of the cavelike room and held the lantern high to illuminate a sizeable expanse. “This space held a particularly rich vein of ore. As you can see, we’ve removed most of it. The room it created is called a stope.”

The rocky chamber stretched back into the shadows, and Ellie shivered. She had envisioned a tight, cramped working environment, but this place was big . . . almost too big, making her feel dwarfed in comparison. The lantern flickered, and she caught her breath, wondering what they would do if it went out.

On further examination, she noticed the piles of rock that lay in various places around the stope. She started over to examine them. “Is this the ore you get the silver from?”

“Careful.” Before she could take another step, Steven caught her by the arm. “You don’t want to get too close to that shaft.”

Ellie gasped when the lantern threw its light on an inky hole only a couple of yards from her feet. She shrank closer to Steven, vowing it would be the last time she ventured from his side until they reached daylight again.

“That’s the base rock. Those black streaks you see are lower quality ore, not worth taking out with the richer silver.”

Ellie pivoted, careful not to move from her position beside Steven. “How do you get it up to the surface?”

“We send it down, not up.” Steven laughed at her bewilderment and went on to explain how they dropped the ore down into ore carts at a lower level, where the silver was then taken to the main shaft and dumped into an ore bucket before being hoisted to the surface.

Ellie became so intrigued she almost forgot she was playing a role. “What happens once you get it out?”

“The ore wagons take it to the stamp mill just outside town on the banks of the San Pedro, where the ore is crushed so the silver can be melted down and made into bars before being shipped out.”

“Shipped where?”

“We send them to the United States Mint in New Orleans, where they’re made into silver dollars.” Steven gave a doleful laugh. “When they actually get where they’re supposed to go, that is. Our bars only weigh about 80 pounds each. The Tombstone mills cast their silver into 180-pound ingots, which makes it much harder for thieves to carry it off.”

“What a clever idea.”

“I wish we’d thought of it. It would take considerable time to do the retooling necessary to form the larger ingots, but we may have to go that route ourselves . . . if we can do it before it’s too late.”

The last words came out as the barest whisper before they floated off into the darkness. Ellie wondered if Steven realized he had spoken them aloud. She looked at him more closely, noticing the tightness around his eyes and the corners of his mouth.

“At the meeting last Sunday, Mr. Sullivan mentioned something about stockpiling your silver until the thieves are captured. Where are you keeping it?”

Steven looked away, then met her eyes again. “At this point, even my workers don’t know that. My foreman is the only one besides myself who has that information.”

“Quite right.” Ellie nodded approval. “That information shouldn’t be shared.” She took a step to one side, and a fist-sized piece of loose rock rolled under her foot. Her arms flailed wildly, but before she could fall, Steven caught her with one strong arm, wrapping it around her shoulders.

Oh my.
Ellie took her time catching her breath, leaning against him longer than strictly necessary.

“Will you be all right if I take my arm away?”

She nodded, calling herself a liar as she did so. The moment his arm left her shoulders, she felt an ache of emptiness.

“Over here is one of the veins we’ve been working.” Steven led her to a wall of fractured rock pockmarked by inch-wide holes. “So far this one is holding strong, so we’ll keep on following it until it plays out.”

Ellie filed the information away and stared around in the dim light, feeling her chest tighten at the thought of spending long days underground. “How can your men work in such gloomy conditions?”

“They’re issued three candles apiece at the beginning of each shift. Quite often, though, the men will have only two or three candles burning in the cavern at any given time.” He smiled at her look of disbelief. “I know it seems strange, but it doesn’t take long for them to become comfortable working in the dark.”

Ellie looked at the blank wall before them. “It appears we’ve reached the end of our tour.” She tried not to let her relief show at the thought of being out from under the earth’s oppressive weight.

“I want to show you one more thing.” A note of excitement rang in Steven’s voice. He led her back the way they had come.

Ellie followed him, comforting herself with the thought that they were at least heading in the right direction, back toward sunlight and the open air.

“I’ve saved the best for last.” Steven guided her to the far side of the stope, which hadn’t been visible before. A tunnel opened off of the main room, its mouth braced by sturdy beams.

“We hit this vein a couple of weeks ago, and it’s the richest one we’ve found so far. If we can keep the mine going, there’s every reason to expect a huge return for everyone involved.”

The meaningful look he gave her made Ellie want to melt right into a puddle at his feet. Maybe she should find another rock to slip on.

“Here, let me show you the new drift and what we’ve done so far.”

With an effort, Ellie pulled her focus back to the job at hand and away from the distractions of Steven Pierce’s exhilarating presence. What would Lavinia ask? Probably something about money matters.

Hating herself for holding out false hope, she followed him into the new tunnel. “How much will it take to keep things—”

Without any planning on her part, her foot caught on something, and she started to go down. As quickly as before, Steven gripped her elbow and held her upright. Before she could thank him, a loud crack shattered the stillness of the mine, followed by a grating sound that sent a shock of terror through her.

“Look out!” Steven wrapped his arm around her shoulders and yanked her inside the drift, pulling her tight against his chest.

A rolling crash echoed through the mine. An instant later, the flame in the lantern guttered wildly. Ellie opened her mouth to scream, but Steven was holding her so tight she could barely breathe, let alone make a sound.

She stood pressed against him in the dimness, choking on the dust that filled the air while her heart pounded like a trip hammer. “Was it a cave-in?”

“Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “We don’t want to create any vibration that might set off another slide.”

“What happened?”

“Give me a few minutes for the dust to settle, and I’ll find out. In the meantime, try not to move around.”

Ellie had no quarrel with that idea. The steady beat of Steven’s heart against her cheek was the only thing keeping her from total panic.

She tipped her head back and saw him gazing down at her, his lips tantalizingly close. A soft sigh escaped her as she tilted her chin up and let her eyelids drift closed.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Stewart?”

Ellie’s eyes flew open, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the alarm etched on Steven’s face.

“I’m . . . fine,” she managed.

“You’re sure?” His look of concern deepened. “For a moment, I thought you were about to faint.”

Ellie squeezed her eyes shut again, imagining the scene from Steven’s point of view—the older woman nestled against him, her head dropping back, her eyelids closing, her lips parting . . . Mortification gripped her in a chokehold. No wonder he’d thought she’d been suffering from the vapors.

And thank heaven for that! Far less humiliating to be seen as a delicate old woman ready to swoon from the shock of their near catastrophe than to have him realize she’d been on the point of pressing her lips against his. What would he have thought of Lavinia Stewart then? She clenched her teeth to hold back a moan.

She wanted to cry out an objection when she felt him take his arms from around her and move back a step. Opening her eyes again, she dared to look up into Steven’s face, shadowed by the settling dust.