Stealing Jake (34 page)

“Where’s Russell?” His tone left no doubt that if he didn’t get an answer, the man better prepare to meet his Maker.

The man jerked his head toward the mine and gave a short bark of laughter. “Probably dead by now. We threw him on top of the explosives.”

Livy’s legs gave way, and she slumped to her knees. Pain like she’d never felt, not even when her sister died, knifed through her.
Jake. Oh, Jake. I’ve just found you. Please don’t leave me so soon. I love you. Oh, Lord, not Jake. Please, Lord.

She’d never planned on falling in love, but he’d stolen her heart with his crooked smile, the twinkle in his eyes, and the way he’d made corn-husk dolls for the girls and carved farm animals for the boys.

Lost in her grief, she scarcely heard the blaring of the alarms calling all able-bodied men to the mines. Shouts rose as men arrived and took up shovels. Was there any hope they could save Jake and the children? She wanted to believe, but her heart wouldn’t let her.

Her hope had blown up with the mine.

Schmidt lifted her to her feet. He held out a black muffler, the one she’d given Jake. “Miss O’Brien, Harvey and I are taking these two to jail. Why don’t you come along with us? There’s nothing you can do here.”

Livy clutched the knit scarf, holding on to this small piece of wool that had touched him. A scent of bay rum clung to the soft material. Jake’s scent. “No. I want to stay. In case . . .” Her voice broke. “In case they . . . find him.”

The detective patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “All right. I’ll be back shortly, so don’t try to head back to town alone. Okay?”

Livy nodded. She wouldn’t leave the mine until they’d found Jake and those children, dead or alive.

* * *

Jake couldn’t breathe.

Coal-black darkness surrounded him, and an oppressive weight pinned him down. He could feel the cool dampness of the mine, the smell of dirt and unmined coal unlike anything aboveground.

He clawed his way to full consciousness. He had to get to the others, see if they were safe. “Pa?” he rasped. “Thorndike? Seamus?”

No one answered.

He struggled to remember. There’d been an explosion. Where were the others? Had he alone been spared to face a slow, agonizing death, buried alive?

His heart pounded. His mother had begged them not to buy shares in the mine, but Jake and his father knew they could make a killing if they owned their own mine. They’d be able to make their own rules and keep all the profit to boot. They hadn’t banked on tragedy.

His mind slammed back to the present.

The thugs. The kids. The explosion meant to kill them all.

Sheriff Carter.

Jake moved, and the rubble on top of him shifted. He struggled to his knees, bracing his hand against the jagged dirt-and-rock walls. Tears gathered in his eyes and slid down his cheeks. “Oh, Lord Jesus, help me. I don’t want to die, not like this. It would have been better if they’d shot me.”

The thought of never seeing the light of day closed in on him, and fear bubbled up as strong as he’d felt two years ago. What were the odds of being rescued twice in one lifetime? He doubled over, his forehead pressed to the ground.

“Please, Lord,” he whispered. He stayed still, reining in his fear. Years-old training kicked in.
Breathe slowly. Conserve energy. Don’t panic.

“With God all things are possible.”

Jake stilled, the pounding in his heart slowing, the fear subsiding as he grasped at the lifeline. “Lord, what are You trying to tell me?”

The truth rolled over him in slow waves, clearing the fog in his brain. If he’d lived through the explosion, those children would have. And they’d be terrified. They wouldn’t even have hope of being rescued. A hope he could offer them if he could find them. If his presence brought them comfort, so be it.

“For such a time as this.”

Jake took a deep breath, stood on shaky legs, and started inching his way deeper into the bowels of the mine.

* * *

“There’s a body here! Somebody bring a lantern.”

Livy scrambled over rocks and debris, hoping and praying they’d found Jake.
Please let him be alive, Lord. Please.

“It’s Sheriff Carter.”

Men crowded around.

“Is he dead?”

“He’s still breathing, barely. I don’t see any injuries, either. A couple of you guys hitch up a wagon and get him to the doctor.”

Livy watched the men ease the sheriff into the wagon.
Lord, where will it end?
Sheriff Carter was supposed to be back at the jail. Not here. She bowed her head and prayed for the sheriff, for Jake, for the children, and for the men risking their lives to get into the mine.

The rescuers carted load after load of rocks and dirt away, trying to clear the opening obliterated in the explosion. Some men brought wheelbarrows and more picks and spades to help the work go faster. Word circulated among the rescuers that Jake and the children were trapped inside, and more men showed up, some coming straight from working in other mines to help.

Livy wanted to help dig, but her limbs had turned to jelly. She’d never been afraid of much of anything. She wanted to pitch in and do whatever needed doing, but the thought of losing Jake paralyzed her to the point that she could only sit and stare at the rubble. She closed her eyes and tried to let God’s peace waft over her. That’s all she could do. She was too drained to pray, too fearful.

After a while, she felt a stirring at her side and opened her eyes. Gus watched the commotion. He threw a shy glance her way. “What happened?”

“Some bad men blew up the mine. Several children and Jake are inside.”

“Mr. Jake?” Gus’s voice trembled. “And some kids?”

“Yes.” Livy patted his arm. Dear, sweet Gus. Such a tender heart filled with compassion.

“What were they doing in there?” A confused look crossed his face. “It’s been closed for a long time.”

“A man named Gibbons brought the kids here to work for him in the glove factory, but when Jake started asking questions, he moved them to the mine to keep Jake from finding them.”

“They’ll never get in that way.” Gus shook his head. Dirt and rocks from the entire hillside covered the opening to the mine.

His observation hit her square in the chest. “There’s no hope, then.”

Oh, God. Oh, God.

“There’s another way.” Gus motioned for her to follow him.

“Oh, Gus.” Livy sighed. The old man didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

Livy followed simply because she didn’t know what else to do. He led her down the hill and around the bend to a shack. He opened the door to the stable attached to the side of the cabin. Little Bit stared at her from the stall. How could Little Bit help get Jake and the kids out? Maybe Gus thought the donkey could help haul the debris away. It would take a hundred donkeys to clear the entrance to the mine.

“Gus, I appreciate you trying to help, but—”

“Look.” He motioned her forward, moved aside a stack of crates, then a cobbled-together barrier revealing an opening in the side of the hill.

Livy peered at the black hole, hope tickling the edges of her heart. “Where does this lead to?”

“The Black Gold mine.” Gus grinned, as excited as a child on Christmas morning.

Hope became a full-fledged giggle. “Can you lead the way to the old mine?”

He nodded.

Livy threw her arms around him. “Oh, Gus, thank you, thank you, thank you. We’ve got to tell Smitty.”

* * *

“For such a time as this.”

Jake stumbled forward in the dark, his only thought to find the children and comfort them. His hands, scratched and bleeding, tracked along the rough rock walls searching for a cache of emergency supplies.

The miners stashed torches and lanterns all through the mines for emergencies. He kept moving until his hands felt a depression in the rock. His questing fingers located the carefully wrapped provisions lashed against the rock shelf.

For such a time as this.

* * *

“Please.”

McIver and Smitty looked at each other, and Livy knew they weren’t going to let her go.

“Please take me with you. The children will be frightened enough as it is. I grew up on the streets of Chicago. I
know
what they’ve been through.”

A wiry young man stepped forward, miner’s hat in hand. Determination glinted in his hard gaze. “I’m from Chicago too. I’m going in.”

Four more miners stepped forward, tough men looking like they’d fight anyone who dared tell them they couldn’t go after Jake and the children.

“All right. Grab a lantern and line up.” Smitty stabbed a finger at Livy. “And you, young lady, stay right by my side and do everything I tell you to.”

Livy scrambled into line. “Yes, sir.”

They eased into the mine, Gus leading the way, humming as he moved forward. Smitty sandwiched himself and Livy in the middle of the pack. The miners carried lanterns to light the way.

Livy tamped down the surge of panic rising in her throat as soon as they entered the darkness. She’d been in some tight spots, but she’d never been underground before. She didn’t know what she expected, but the coolness and the dank smell surprised her. And complete darkness so thick she could almost reach out and touch it.

The only light came from the lanterns the miners held high. She shivered. How could these men work like this day in and day out, living their lives underground?

Gus turned left, then right, then left again until Livy’s head spun with confusion. She looked back at Smitty, his face illuminated by the flickering light. “I hope he knows where he’s going.”

Smitty clenched his jaw, looking none too happy to be underground. “I do too. Otherwise, Jake and those young’uns might not be the only ones lost in this mine tonight.”

* * *

Thankful for the lantern he’d found stashed among the emergency supplies, Jake kept moving, searching for the children. His thoughts cleared, and memories long suppressed clamored for his attention. There were two or three logical places to stash the children. But he wouldn’t take any chances. He’d search every nook and cranny, just to be sure.

Systematically, he went from right to left, moving from one tunnel to the next, not leaving any area untouched. He slowed when he reached the scene of the explosion two years ago. He paused, forcing himself to look at the collapsed shaft to his right. The entire thing had imploded on itself, sealing everyone inside fifty feet below the surface of the mine.

He broke out in a cold sweat, not wanting to check the area, but the children’s safety demanded he leave no stone unturned. He climbed over the rubble. He’d gone another fifty feet before shifting rock and dirt blocked his way. He held the lantern high. The collapse wasn’t new, so tonight’s explosion hadn’t triggered it. The children couldn’t be in this part of the mine. Jake turned away, thankful he didn’t have to go down that particular tunnel and face the demons of his past.

Tunnels branched off in several directions. He took an opening on his immediate right. If memory served, it wouldn’t take long to search this area. There were a few more places he figured Gibbons might have left the kids, and he was anxious to check them.

He went down four more dead ends before staggering into a hollowed-out place half the size of the office at the jail. Fifteen or twenty boys and girls stared at him, their faces gaunt, eyes sunken in their heads. Silent. Scared out of their wits. Cold. And hungry.

Someone coughed, the sound loud in the stillness.

Jake lifted the lantern high so they could see his face. “I’m Jake Russell. I’m here to help you.”

To break the ice, he told them about Bobby, Jessica, and the little girl Luke had left at the orphanage.

Then he met Luke’s little brother, Mark.

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, the tunnel widened, allowing them to fan out. Livy breathed easier in the open space. Ore carts that hadn’t been used in over two years sat silent. Broken ax handles lay inside one cart, a man’s tattered coat draped over the edge of another.

One of the miners pointed to a pile of rubble. “There’s the shaft that collapsed two years ago.” His gaze sought and found Livy’s in the lamplight. “Jake Russell and Seamus O’Leary were the only two to survive. Rescuers pulled ’em out ten days later.”

Livy swallowed hard against the lump that formed in her throat.
Oh, Jake. And you were willing to risk your life to save the children?

Gus led them down another tunnel, moving single file again. A murmur, a ripple of excitement—
something
—coursed through the men in front of Livy. She strained to see over or around them.

A single light cast from a mining lamp shone in the distance.

* * *

The children stirred, the older ones moving quietly to shield the younger. Jake calmed them. “It’s all right. They’re here to rescue us. Trust me, okay?”

“Will they take me to Luke?” A fragile hope tinged Mark’s voice.

“Yes.” Jake hugged the child to him. “As soon as we get out of here, we’ll go find Luke.”

Seventeen pairs of eyes trained on him, filled with trust he didn’t deserve. He’d been their only hope, their only lifeline to cling to. Tears stung his eyes.
Lord, help me to be worthy of such trust.

“Jake!”

His head jerked up at the sound of Livy’s voice.