Chapter 15 - Bellamy Finally Had to Choose
Owen’s wife, Margaret, arrived after the twenty-seventh miner had already emerged.
Nobody had told her Owen was missing.
Nobody knew how.
She stepped from a wagon carrying their youngest daughter.
Saw the rescued men.
Saw stretchers.
Saw Dorothy.
Then she counted faces.
“Where’s Owen?”
Silence.
Margaret’s expression changed.
“Where is my husband?”
Dorothy approached.
“He’s still inside.”
“Alive?”
“We don’t know.”
Margaret handed the child to her sister.
“I’m going up.”
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
Dorothy caught her arm.
“Margaret.”
The woman turned, furious.
“Don’t.”
Dorothy released her.
“You’re right.”
Margaret stared.
“I won’t tell you to be calm.”
Her anger broke into tears.
Dorothy continued softly.
“But Crowley has men going back.”
Margaret looked toward the mountain.
“Why was he last?”
Benjamin answered from a stretcher.
“Because he made everybody else go.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“That fool.”
Benjamin smiled weakly.
“He said you’d call him worse.”
She laughed through tears.
“Correct.”
Crowley selected two rescuers.
The opening remained dangerous.
Water still filled the lower chamber.
They crawled inside with ropes.
Minutes stretched.
Caleb lay nearby while doctor worked on his shoulder.
Dorothy sat beside him.
“You should be in hospital.”
“So should half the town.”
“You have fractured hip?”
“Bruised badly.”
“Shoulder?”
“Dislocated.”
“Head?”
“Apparently hard.”
Dorothy stared.
Caleb smiled.
Then saw her face and stopped.
“Owen’s tough.”
“So were all of you.”
“He’ll come.”
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
Caleb looked at the opening.
“But he made twenty-seven men leave first. A man that stubborn usually keeps some stubbornness for himself.”
Twenty minutes later, a shout came.
“ROPE!”
Men grabbed.
Pulled.
A rescuer emerged.
Then second.
Between them, Owen.
Unconscious.
Water pouring from his clothes.
Margaret screamed.
Doctor ran.
No breath.
They worked.
Dorothy watched.
Nothing.
Again.
Doctor pressed.
Cleared airway.
Again.
Owen coughed.
Water spilled from his mouth.
Margaret collapsed beside him.
Twenty-eight.
All twenty-eight aboveground.
Alive.
Copper Jack erupted.
Mine whistles blew.
Church bell rang.
Men fired no guns because Crowley threatened to personally throw anyone who made unnecessary explosions into the creek.
People laughed.
Cried.
Hugged strangers.
Dorothy sat on a crate.
For the first time in days, there was nothing she had to do immediately.
Her body realized it before her mind.
Every muscle hurt.
Her eyes burned.
She could not remember last full meal.
Bellamy sat beside her.
Neither spoke.
Finally he said, “Thirty-five dollars.”
Dorothy looked over.
“What?”
“Worst bargain I ever made.”
She laughed.
Bellamy rubbed his face.
“I should’ve offered forty.”
“You should’ve offered fifty.”
“Don’t become unreasonable.”
“I just fed your entire town through a mine pipe.”
“Forty-five.”
“Fifty.”
“Forty-seven.”
“Bellamy.”
“Fine.”
Dorothy smiled.
“I quit.”
Bellamy’s mouth opened.
“What?”
“I’m buying my wagon.”
“You cannot quit.”
“I can.”
“No.”
“That’s an interesting reaction from the man who nearly didn’t hire me.”
“You run the kitchen.”
“Yes.”
“Who will run it?”
“Someone else.”
Bellamy stood.
“This is blackmail.”
“No. This is arithmetic.”
“What arithmetic?”
“I came here to work eleven weeks and save enough for a chuck wagon.”
Bellamy looked at her.
“You actually meant that.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was one of those ambitions people talk about.”
Dorothy’s smile vanished.
“What kind?”
“The kind they don’t expect to accomplish.”
“Why would I discuss it if I didn’t expect to?”
Bellamy looked embarrassed.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
He sighed.
“Because most people don’t.”
“Most people have been trained not to.”
Bellamy sat again.
“How much are you short?”
Dorothy calculated.
“Depending on wagon. Maybe eighty dollars.”
“I’ll loan it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I want it mine.”
“Partnership?”
“No.”
Bellamy frowned.
“You reject money aggressively.”
“I reject ownership disguised as help.”
“That was insulting.”
“Was it inaccurate?”
Bellamy considered.
“No.”
He stared at the town celebrating.
“Then what do you want?”
Dorothy thought.
“Keep paying forty-seven.”
“Fifty.”
She looked at him.
He shrugged.
“I’m evolving.”
“Temporary?”
“Probably.”
She smiled.
“Fifty until freight roads close.”
“Then?”
“I buy my wagon.”
Bellamy nodded.
“Agreed.”
They shook hands.
Then Horace Vale approached.
Celebration dimmed around him.
Vale’s expensive vest was covered in mud.
He looked older.
“Miss Vance.”
Dorothy waited.
“Company owes you.”
“No.”
Vale frowned.
“We do.”
“You owe miners.”
“I mean financially.”
Dorothy studied him.
“Then pay families for every hour those men were trapped.”
Vale stiffened.
“That isn’t how wages—”
“Then you don’t owe me anything.”
Bellamy smiled faintly.
Vale ignored him.
“You provided emergency supplies.”
“Bellamy provided supplies.”
Bellamy opened his mouth.
Dorothy kicked his boot.
He shut it.
Vale said, “Company will reimburse.”
“Fine.”
“For food.”
“Yes.”
“Your labor?”
Dorothy looked toward rescued miners.
“Bill me as cook.”
Vale seemed uncomfortable.
“Miss Vance—”
“Dorothy.”
“Dorothy. I underestimated you.”
“So did many.”
“I apologize.”
She nodded.
Apology accepted.
Not erased.
Those were different things.
Vale continued.
“The company wants to offer you management of the mine cookhouse.”
Bellamy made an offended sound.
Dorothy almost laughed.
“What pay?”
Vale named a number nearly double Bellamy’s.
Bellamy muttered, “Thief.”
Dorothy looked at Vale.
“No.”
He blinked.
“More?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to run your cookhouse.”
“Then what do you want?”
Dorothy looked down the valley.
A battered freight wagon stood near the mercantile.
Beyond it lay roads leading toward ranches, cattle outfits, rail stations, and towns that did not know her name yet.
“A wagon.”
Vale did not understand.
Bellamy did.
Dorothy stood.
Then the company accountant hurried toward Vale carrying papers.
“Sir.”
“Not now.”
“You need to see this.”
Vale took the document.
His face changed.
Bellamy noticed.
“What?”
Vale folded it.
“Nothing.”
Dorothy had seen enough ledgers to recognize fear involving numbers.
“What is it?”
Vale started walking away.
The accountant whispered something.
Dorothy heard two words.
freight charges.
She thought of Bellamy’s ledger.
The unexplained increases.
Vale’s cousin’s hauling concern.
The blocked road.
The old shaft nobody maintained.
The warnings ignored.
Twenty-eight men nearly buried forever.
Rescue had saved lives.
But there was another question Copper Jack had not yet answered.
Why had the mine become dangerous in the first place?
May you like
And Dorothy suspected the answer had nothing to do with mountains.
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