by Lynn Austin
Belle and I were following the creek on my book route early the next day when Mack stepped out of the bushes near his cabin, startling me. “Don’t do that! You scared me!”
“Sorry . . . Can I talk to you?”
“What’s wrong?” He hadn’t shaved, and I could tell by the deep crease between his eyebrows that he was worried. He had never waylaid me on my trip upstream before, so his worry became contagious.
“Not here. Come back into the woods with me.” He grabbed Belle’s bridle and led us back to the glade. I had to crouch low in the saddle to keep from hitting my head on the low-hanging branches.
“Will this take long? Should I dismount?”
“Yeah. You’d better get off.”
I welcomed the chance. I had been riding for three weeks, but I still wasn’t used to it, and I felt chafed and saddlesore at the end of each day after riding. Mack motioned to the circle of stones and we both sat down. He hadn’t built a fire in the pit, and I shivered in the cool shade.
“That letter I got from Washington?” he began. “It’s from someone at the mining bureau. He’s willing to take another look into Hank’s death.”
“That’s good news . . . isn’t it?”
“Yes. But he needs me to send him some new evidence before they’ll reopen the case.”
“Why do I have a feeling that this is going to involve me?”
“Listen, Alice. Ever since you told me the files were still in the mine office, I’ve been trying to figure out how I can get a look at them.”
I stuck my fingers in my ears. “Don’t tell me your plans. The less I know, the easier it is not to lie.”
He grabbed my hands and pulled them down, holding them for a moment so I wouldn’t plug my ears again. “I have to tell you some of my plans because I need your help.”
“Oh no. I distinctly remember you saying that from now on, the only thing I had to do for you was bring food.”
“I don’t really need you—I need Belle. I’m still not strong enough to walk all the way to the mine. All you’ll have to do is ride up here a week from next Tuesday night and bring her to me.”
“Why that night?”
“Because the Almanac says there won’t be a moon on April twenty-first. I need the night to be as dark as possible so I won’t be seen.”
“Wait. Maggie says it’s dangerous to come up here at night because of the wildcat.”
“Maggie worries too much.”
“She saw paw prints on her property.”
He made a face, waving away my concerns. “If you would bring Belle up here for me, I could ride her to the mine, get what I need, and ride back. Hopefully before dawn.”
“If you expect me to sit in your creepy cabin all by myself all night, you’re out of your mind!”
“You can always ride to the mine and back with me if you don’t want to wait here all alone. I could use your help going through the files, but that’s up to you. I won’t force you to do it. Either way, I need you to bring Belle up here to the cabin on the night of the twenty-first.”
“You said the sheriff has people watching the mine.”
“I said ‘maybe.’ That’s why I need to go at night.”
“You’re crazy! What are you going to tell him when he catches you breaking in? That you came to use the telephone?”
“I’ll tell him to stop helping the Jupiter Coal Company cover up Hank’s murder and put the people who were responsible for it in jail.”
“You think the mine officials committed murder?”
“I’m convinced that Hank Coots’s death wasn’t an accident, but I need proof. That’s why I need to look in those files.”
“Why would they keep incriminating evidence in plain sight like that?”
“Because they’re stupid, Alice. And they think they’re above the law. With the sheriff in their pocket, they can get away with anything, cover up any crime.”
I remembered that Ike had said the same thing, that there was no justice. And like Mack, he also thought that Hank’s death hadn’t been an accident. But did I want to get mixed up in this?
“Don’t you see, Alice? It has taken me all this time just to find a government official in Washington who would agree to reopen the investigation. But I have to show him some new evidence. I want justice for Hank and Maggie, and this is the only way I can think of to get proof. Will you please bring Belle up here for me that night?”
I hesitated. Mack gripped my shoulders, and I could see his impatience. “I’m not asking you to help me break in or take anything. Just bring me the blasted horse! Can’t you do that much? For Maggie’s sake at least, if not for mine?”
“Maggie Coots is my friend, and I know she misses her husband. But if I help you and we’re caught, I’ll be in as much trouble as you are.”
He let go of my shoulders and exhaled. “Okay. Do me a favor, then. Talk to Maggie when you see her today. Don’t say a word about what I’m doing, but ask her to tell you about Hank and the work that he was involved in before he died. That’s all I ask. Maybe it will help you make up your mind. But please do it soon, Alice. Because if I don’t go on that night, I’ll have to wait another month until there’s another moonless night.”
I left a few minutes later. Talking with Mack had made me late, so I didn’t have time for an unscheduled visit with June Ann. I hoped Lillie’s two tonics were working. Maggie’s cabin was the last stop on my route that day, and it was such a warm afternoon that she and I sat outside on her porch, talking. I had no idea how to bring up the subject of her husband’s death, but when she asked me how my romance with Ike was going, I saw the perfect chance.
“He took me on a picnic yesterday. He came into the library on the spur of the moment, and said ‘Let’s go.’ He took me to somebody’s orchard and it was a beautiful, romantic place with all of the apple trees in blossom.” I sighed, remembering.
“Sounds like someone is getting swept off her feet.”
“Maybe . . . a little. Was it like that with you and Hank?”
“Hardly! We locked horns over Hank’s younger brothers for the longest time. He didn’t approve of my teaching style, to say the least. But you know what they say, sparks can produce flames.”
“Ike talked about Hank yesterday. He said he didn’t think his death was an accident. Do you agree? That it wasn’t an accident?”
“It makes no difference at all what I think. The official investigation ruled that it was an accident.”
“Why would Ike say that? What was your husband involved with at the mine?”
Maggie shook her head, then took so long to reply that I didn’t think she was going to talk about it. When she did, her voice sounded weary.
“Hank’s father had died in a mining accident, so in the beginning, Hank was simply trying to get some safety measures in place. Then Mack came back to town and convinced him that the miners needed to form a union. I was against the idea because of all the union trouble over in Harlan County. But Hank thought that at the very least, he could pressure the mine officials to stop the practice of the short load, and set fair prices in the company store.”
“What’s a short load?”
“The miners’ loads were measured by the long ton, which is 2,200 pounds. But the company was selling that same coal by the short ton, which is 2,000 pounds. The miners got gypped out of 200 pounds’ worth of pay with every load. Not only that, but a company official weighed the coal, and if he decided there was too much rock in the load, the miners wouldn’t get paid at all. There could be a ton of coal and a few pounds of rock, but the company would claim the entire load was no good. Hank was trying to demand a ‘check weigh-man,’ someone who worked for the miners and could verify the company’s decisions.”
“That seems fair.”
“You probably saw the housing they built for the miners? They charged outrageous prices for those shacks and took the rent money straight from the miners’ pay. Their wages were paid in scrip, not real money, forcing the miners to
buy food and supplies at the company store—at inflated prices. Miners had to pay for their own lamps and fuel, too—again, with inflated prices. At the end of the workweek, most miners owed more money than they’d made. They could never get ahead. As the saying goes, they owed their souls to the company store.”
“I can see why the miners would want to join together and unionize.”
“When the company saw that Hank was getting everyone all fired up, they promoted him, at first—which was very strange since they usually run union organizers out of town. Hank had his ‘accident’ the first week on his new job.”
“That does seem suspicious.”
“Six months later, the mine closed when the Depression hit and the factories up north started shutting down.”
“Didn’t the sheriff investigate Hank’s accident?” I knew the answer to my question, but I wanted to see if Maggie’s reply would confirm what Mack and Ike had told me.
“Of course he did. A mine safety official came, too. But the Jupiter Coal Company controls the sheriff, so no one was surprised when the investigation concluded that it was an accident.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“You know what wasn’t fair, Alice? I finally had convinced Hank to quit the mine for good and go to college like Mack had. The best way he could help his brothers and improve things in Acorn was to get an education. He had just started applying to colleges when Mack came back to town to research his book. They were friends, so . . . well, you know the rest. Mack convinced Hank to stay and try to make things better.”
I was beginning to see that Mack’s motivation wasn’t simply for justice. He must feel guilty for the part he’d played in his friend’s death. “My friend Ike doesn’t think that Mack’s death was an accident, either. He thinks someone from the mine shot him.”
“Who knows—and what difference does it make now? They’re both dead. Why are you asking me about this? Hank is gone and nothing will bring him back.”
“Don’t you want justice?”
Maggie gave a bitter laugh. “I used to believe in justice—and in a God of justice. But not anymore. I’ve seen too much injustice around here, and God doesn’t seem to care one bit.”
“That’s not true, Maggie. The Bible says that—”
“Would you like to see Hank’s grave?”
I swallowed my words. She didn’t want a memorized Bible verse from me about how God watches over the sparrows. “Yes. I would like that,” I said.
We walked into the woods for a short distance and reached a small clearing. Hank’s grave marker was made from polished granite with his name and the date of his birth and death chiseled into it. “I didn’t want him to be buried behind the church with the rest of his family,” Maggie said. “I wanted him here, near me.”
I expected to see only one tombstone, but there were two. Maggie drew a deep breath and said, “Our daughter is buried beside him.”
The smaller granite tombstone had an angel carved on it. Rhoda Lee Coots had died at the age of two, a few months after Hank Coots had died. I couldn’t speak.
“If God really cares, Allie, why does He allow innocent children to die before they have a chance to live?”
I reached to take her hand, but I still couldn’t speak. I tried to think of what my father might say to Maggie, but the sight of that little tombstone left me without words.
“The coal in our state is as valuable as gold to the northern factories and power companies,” Maggie said. “Yet the people who mine it all their lives have to watch their husbands and children die. Is that fair? Don’t tell me that God cares.”
“I’m so sorry, Maggie. I had no idea.” I didn’t know what else to say. If I lost my husband and child, might I lose my faith, too?
Maggie released my hand. “You’d better get going, Alice. I’ll see you next week.” She walked back to the cabin without waiting for me, closing the door behind her.
I grieved for Maggie as I rode down the creek toward home. As tragic as the deaths of her husband and daughter were, what saddened me the most was the death of her faith. In my naïvete, I’d known of only two types of people: those who had faith in God and went to church every Sunday, and those who didn’t. I didn’t know what to make of someone like Maggie Coots, who had left her privileged life behind to serve God—and now, after suffering great tragedy, no longer believed in Him. My Sunday school understanding of faith hadn’t prepared me for Maggie’s questions.
I had attended church all my life and had been raised as a Christian by God-fearing parents. But I realized that if the story of my own faith was made into a book, it would have nothing but a title page. Mine was a superficial Sunday morning faith, memorizing verses and parroting answers. When Lillie had asked me to pray for Mack on the morning he’d been shot, all I’d had to offer was a recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. Maggie was my friend. I longed to help her—and I didn’t know how.
Mack was waiting in the bushes for me in the same place he had waited this morning. This time I was expecting him. “Did you talk to Maggie?” he asked.
“Yes.” I wiped my tears on my sleeve. Mack led Belle and me into the woods again and waited for me to dismount.
“Do you understand now why I have to search the mining office for information? If it was murder and not an accident, then it’s my fault for stirring things up. Hank wouldn’t have pushed so hard or gotten involved in the first place if it wasn’t for me. I need to know the truth . . . I need to know if I caused his death.”
“Yes. I do understand.” And maybe if Mack got justice for Maggie, it would begin to restore her faith. “How long will it take to find what you want in those files?”
“Probably most of the night. I’ll have to ride to the mine through the woods because I don’t want to be seen on the road. And once I’m inside the office, there will be a lot of papers to look through.”
“How will you see anything in the dark? You can’t light a lamp, and the electricity is probably turned off, too.”
“My father had a miner’s cap. It’s pretty old, but Lillie can show you where it is and how to put fuel in it.”
“Is it the kind of hat with the lamp on the front?”
Mack nodded. “It’s still up to you whether you want to wait here or come with me, Alice. I don’t care, but I need the horse.”
I didn’t like either choice, especially with a wildcat roaming the woods. Mack was waiting for my answer. “Okay,” I decided. “I’ll bring Belle to you. But I need time to think about whether I’ll stay here or not. Maybe I can come up with a third choice before then.”
“Listen, I’ve been working on this plan ever since you told me the files were still there. I’ve thought it through a hundred ways, trying to figure out every possible thing that could go wrong—and trying to work it out so that I won’t get you into trouble.”
“The fact that you’re riding Belle will link us together, won’t it?”
“Hopefully everything will go smoothly and you can ride Belle home before either one of us is seen. But just in case something does happen, here’s what you’ll need to do. Leave the shed door open when you come up here. I’m going to leave the saddle here and ride Belle bareback to the mine, so if the sheriff does show up and I have to sneak off into the woods without Belle, you can tell everyone that someone broke in and stole her. Bring her halter, too, so it will look like she and the saddle were both stolen.”
“What if they catch you?”
“If I get caught, I’ll say I stole her. Either way, it won’t look like you helped me.”
“How will I get home from here if you get caught? And how will I know?”
“I’m sorry, but if I’m not back by dawn, you’ll have to walk home without me or Belle.”
“Wait. Why can’t you drop me off in town before you go to the mine?”
“I can’t take a chance on being seen in town. Besides, the extra trip will waste too much time. I need to ride through the woods to the mine, not on t
he road.”
“Better yet, why can’t you walk down here and steal Belle yourself?”
“I don’t think I can walk that far and still have enough strength for the rest of the night. As it is, the ride is going to take all the sap out of me.”
“This is crazy!” I had walked into a plot too absurd for a novel. “If you get caught, the sheriff will know that I helped fake your death and funeral. And it won’t take a genius to figure out that I snooped around in the mine office for you.”
“I’ll get you off the hook, I promise. I’ll swear that I forced you to do it, which is true enough, I suppose. The worst they will do is send you home to Illinois—and that’s what you want anyway, isn’t it?”
“No, the worst they could do is kill me just like they killed Hank and make it look like an accident. I wish I had more time to think about this.”
“I know. But there isn’t time. The night of the new moon is my only chance.”
I looked at this strange, complicated man and couldn’t help admiring him for his decency and courage. He had returned to Acorn determined to help his community, and now, when he could easily disappear and never return, he was willing to stay and risk his life to fight an injustice. Men like Mack were rare indeed.
I climbed onto Belle again, balancing on the stone table to do it. Mack watched but didn’t offer to help. I was about to leave when he said, “Oh, and when you come that night, bring my gun. Make sure it’s loaded.”
I couldn’t get over the fact that my new friend Maggie had lost her faith. I longed to talk to Lillie and see what advice she could offer, but Lillie was having another weak spell, eating very little, sleeping too much. I couldn’t expect a one-hundred-year-old woman to live too much longer, but she couldn’t die now! I needed her advice, her wisdom.
On Friday afternoon I was working at my desk downstairs when the front door opened and in walked Ike. I could tell by the way my heart sped up at the sight of him that I was starting to have feelings for him. I could not allow that to happen.
“Hi. How are you?” I asked. My voice sounded squeaky and much too high-pitched. I cleared my throat.