Читать книгу A Message for Julia - Angel Smits - Страница 9

CHAPTER TWO

Оглавление

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.

A Message for Julia

Подняться наверх