Hope In Cripple Creek

by Sara R. Turnquist

“Yes, sir.” Wyatt reached over the counter to gather his wares.

  “Take care of yourself now, Doc.”

  As Wyatt left the store, Yerby picked up his ledger book again and went back to his inventory. But Wyatt’s mood was far more sour than it had been when he arrived.

  * * *

  The Sunday service drew to a close and Timothy dismissed the congregation. Katherine stood and did her best to smile as the people around her turned to shake her hand, but her heart was heavy. Today. It had to be today. She had already put it off for too long.

  As the small crowd moved toward the back of the church, she followed. But her eyes were downcast, her thoughts filled with the task that lay ahead of her. If only her legs didn’t feel like lead as she pushed them onward. How impossible her errand seemed. She wished she could ask someone to go with her, perhaps Timothy or Ma. But she knew this was something she needed to do . . . alone.

  Sooner than she would have liked, she stepped out into the sunlight. A hand reached for hers. Timothy. Her face shifted so she met his gaze.

  “I hope you enjoyed the sermon today.” He smiled, but as he watched her features, his smile fell.

  She forced the corners of her mouth to turn upward. No reason to bring his mood down. “Yes, I enjoyed it quite well.”

  One of his eyebrows raised in an unspoken question.

  “I, um . . .” She wanted to avoid the issue, but saw no reason to lie to him. “I have to visit her, Timothy. I’ve waited long enough.”

  His features softened, and he nodded slowly, his eyes kind and concerned. “I won’t be much longer here. If you would like, I can . . . ”

  How she wanted to take him up on his offer! But she could not. She put a hand on his arm. “No, I thank you, but I think it’s something I need to do by myself.”

  He pressed his lips together in a straight line, but she saw in his eyes that he understood. “I’ll say a prayer for you.”

  She dipped her head. “Thank you.” And then she removed her hand from his arm, stepped away, and moved down the stairs, allowing the next person to speak with their reverend.

  Once at the bottom of the stairs, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She could do this. When she opened her eyes, she couldn’t help but spot Wyatt across the churchyard. He spoke with Betsy about something rather intently. How dare they. How dare they enjoy this fine day as if nothing was wrong when her world was crumbling! A thick, hard substance filled her chest. And it settled there, heavy. As much as she wanted to continue to watch them and nurse her anger, Katherine tore her gaze away and moved toward the meadow adjacent to the small church.

  Among the tall grasses there, Katherine began to pluck flowers. In a short time, she gathered a fair-sized bouquet of wild daisies, buttercups, and violets. They were lovely. Violets had always been her favorites. She stuck her nose into the petals of the delicate blooms and breathed in their fragrance. It calmed her. A gentle breeze drifted by and she imagined it carried all of her sadness, grief, and despair away. But she knew it was just wishful thinking. The heaviness in her chest remained. And the burden of the task ahead dragged on her consciousness.

  Katherine glanced behind the church. There it was—the town cemetery. Surrounded by a short fence and shaded by a large weeping willow, it was everything a final resting place should be. But Ellie Mae had been too young. Far too young.

  Tightness clamped around Katherine’s chest and her feet turned to solid rock. How was she going to do this? She had faithfully visited her best friend’s grave when she lived here. But that had been years ago, so many years ago. And now, it seemed impossible.

  Somehow she made her legs move forward and carry her toward the rows of gray grave markers. Almost as if some invisible force drew her toward the lone stone that stood off to the north side of the tree. It seemed almost pitiful, off by itself. Ellie Mae’s name was faded from the years of weather, but Katherine was still able to make it out on the smooth rock’s surface.

  “I’m sorry, Ellie,” she whispered. “It should have been me.”

  Now standing over her friend’s grave, she could not stop the tears that came. Why did Ellie Mae have to insist on coming with her into the mine? Why? She had been such a loyal friend. And that day was no different. The soft petals of the bouquet fell from her fingertips.

  Katherine raised her hands in hope of stemming the tide threatening to overtake her. Her knees wobbled and became weak. She sank to the ground, the cool earth underneath her, the dirt between her fingers. She smelled it in the cloud of dust drifting upward, disturbed by her movements.

  The air smelled stale. They continued on their journey that seemed to last forever. In the darkness, with only the small torch Wyatt had lit as their guide, it was difficult to discern any progress. Still, they made their way through the cavern, inching along as the tunnel became darker and darker.

  Wyatt insisted they let him lead. The girls didn’t argue. The mine was dark, cold, and damp.

  Katherine felt enclosed, as if encased in a tomb. Every step of the way she regretted letting Betsy goad her into this. But with each step, she became more certain they neared a point when Betsy would admit defeat and they could turn around.

  And then the tunnel split.

  “What now?” Wyatt turned to Betsy.

  “I think we should go this way,” Betsy pointed down the shaft to the right, her eyes meeting Katherine’s, gleaming in the light of the flame.

  “You can’t be serious . . . ” Wyatt started.

  We should turn around. But Betsy wasn’t backing down. What will the others say if I do? “Suits me.” Katherine met her gaze, unwavering. “Shall we?”

  Betsy’s face dropped for a moment before she regained her composure. “All right,” She spoke with confidence, but her voice faltered.

  Wyatt rolled his eyes, and Ellie Mae gripped Katherine’s hand even tighter as they moved off in that direction.

  They traveled for several feet with the thickness of the utter dark attempting to swallow them whole. That’s when they hit a wall. At some point, the cavern must have become unstable and collapsed here, creating a wall of stones.

  Katherine’s insides did a flip-flop. Everyone had heard the stories of trapped miners. An unstable cavern was dangerous. They had to get out of there and quickly.

  Looking over at Ellie Mae to see if her friend shared her anxiety over the state of this mining shaft, Katherine saw that Ellie Mae was shaking. Whether at the seriousness of their predicament or the prospect of retracing their steps, Katherine was not sure. But they had no choice; they must make their way back out. Without discussion, they followed Wyatt back down the corridor.

  They had only moved a few feet when the rumbling began. The sensations of the earth quaking about them were by far the most sickening thing Katherine had ever experienced. Everything around them shook. Their small group hurried their steps, but it was no use. Between the unsteadiness of the ground and the scurrying of their bodies, Katherine lost her hold on Ellie Mae.

  The cavern gave way and fell down on them all. One minute it was thunderous, the next minute, there was silence.

  Katherine lay still. Was she dead? Moving her limbs, she felt life return to her. When she took a deep breath, her lungs filled with dust. This started a coughing fit. The more she coughed the more dust she inhaled. It took some time before she was able to breathe again.

  As she was able to take stock of herself, she found she had a layer of dirt and small pebbles covering her, but was otherwise okay. Slowly getting to her feet, she tried to find the others in the group. There was movement nearby.

  “Ellie?” she called out, her voice still hoarse and weak from coughing.

  “No, it’s Betsy.”

  She found herself thankful that Betsy was alive. “Betsy, are you okay?”

  Betsy sniffed. “Yeah, but my arm hurts real bad.”

  Katherine maneuvered around the space. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark still. Now that the torch was out, s
he saw pinpricks of light coming through the rocks in places. She came across another body. It was Wyatt. He didn’t respond to her. Was he alive? Dropping to her knees, she then shook him. After some prompting, he started to move.

  “My leg,” he groaned.

  Katherine had a difficult time seeing what had injured him. One of his legs had gotten caught under a huge rock. “Betsy!”

  “What?”

  Where had she gone? “Betsy, I need your help.”

  She moaned, but Katherine heard her moving as she stumbled toward her.

  “We need to push this rock off of Wyatt’s leg.” Katherine kneeled by Wyatt’s legs, prepared to work on the rock.

  “But my arm,” Betsy whined.

  Katherine had no time for Betsy’s childishness. “Use your other arm.”

  Wyatt managed to sit up and position his hands on the rock as well. They all worked together to push the rock off his leg. He let out a loud cry as the rock moved, but that, too, was silenced as quickly as it started.

  “Are you all right?” Katherine leaned closer to him than she realized in the dimness.

  “Yes, I’ll be fine.” His warm breath grazed her cheek.

  Katherine moved back a few inches, almost losing her balance. “Now we have to find Ellie.” Katherine scanned the area and saw no sign of movement or another body. Where was Ellie?

  Betsy helped Wyatt to his feet while Katherine moved around the cavern.

  “Ellie!” Why hadn’t they heard from her by now?

  Wyatt felt along the wall created by the rubble. Was he searching for any weakness in the structure near the top? Hoping they could pull stones away and crawl out?

  Katherine didn’t care about any of that. She had to find Ellie Mae.

  “Ellie!” she called and walked further away from Wyatt.

  “Betsy, help her find Ellie Mae,” she heard Wyatt instruct Betsy. Scrapes and gravel shifting sounded as if he dragged his wounded leg behind him as he continued to seek out an exit.

  Moving her hands and eyes along the cavern walls, she searched for her friend. Seconds ticked by into minutes, though it felt like hours as they searched.

  Katherine became frantic by that time. “Ellie, Ellie!”

  Wyatt came back over to where he had parted ways with Katherine and Betsy.

  Shaking, Betsy moved toward Wyatt. “We’ve searched the cavern and can’t find her. Do you think she’s under the pile of rocks?” Betsy’s voice betrayed her fear at the prospect of Ellie Mae’s death.

  Katherine closed her eyes against that possibility. It just couldn’t be. Ellie was here. Alive. She had to be. A sick feeling settled into her stomach.

  Wyatt responded after some moments. “Betsy, go to the other side of the wall and wait for us there. I made a small opening for us to get through.”

  “No, you come with me.” She pulled at his arm.

  “I need to help Katherine.”

  Katherine, only half listening to their exchange, continued to search. She maneuvered into a corner of the cavern they had passed before and spotted something pale poking out of the fallen rocks. Kneeling down, she felt the object. A hand! Working quickly, she brushed the dirt and rubble off of her friend’s face and hair.

  “Ellie! Betsy, Wyatt! I found Ellie!” Tears of hope filled her eyes. They had found Ellie!

  “Wait here,” Wyatt told Betsy.

  The sound of his leg being dragged across the dirt-covered ground allowed Katherine to track his movements. He came to where Katherine crouched now trying to rouse Ellie Mae.

  Something wasn’t right. She was cold. Only her face and arm protruded from the rocks, the rest of her had been buried under the fallen rocks.

  Wyatt knelt down beside her and felt Ellie Mae’s wrist and neck.

  “Betsy, come help us move these rocks off of her,” Katherine called. Her own voice betrayed that she was crying. But she didn’t care. They had to help Ellie Mae.

  “Betsy, stay where you are,” Wyatt called.

  Katherine moved to work on another rock that trapped Ellie Mae’s body and Wyatt grabbed her hands.

  “No, Katherine! You’ll cause this whole wall of rocks to come tumbling down on top of us!”

  What was he saying? They had to. This was Ellie Mae. “We have to get her out.”

  “Katherine, she’s gone.”

  “No,” Katherine insisted. That couldn’t be. They had found her. Her face and hand were here. “We just need to get her out. She’ll be fine.”

  Wyatt stood and pulled Katherine to her feet, but she fought to free herself of his arms.

  “We have to get out of here.” He tugged at her arm, making some progress toward their escape route.

  Betsy didn’t need Wyatt to ask her to join him, she was a step ahead.

  Katherine shook him off again. Hot tears stung her eyes. What was he doing? “You can’t leave her. Ellie!”

  Wyatt grabbed Katherine around the waist and pulled her toward the small opening he had created. He set her down just short of the opening as Betsy made her way through. Maneuvering his face so he was nearly nose-to-nose with Katherine, he spoke. “Listen to me. This cavern is unstable. If I could go back for her, I would. But I can’t. We need to get out of here, Katie.”

  The rumbling started again around them, and she felt the instability of the cavern in the vibrations under her feet.

  “No,” she choked out. How could he ask her to leave Ellie Mae? How could she do such a thing?

  Wyatt turned her and hoisted her up, pushing her through. She didn’t want to leave her friend behind, no matter what, but Wyatt was behind her. So, she grasped for a handhold and pulled herself through. The cavern continued its grumbling protest.

  As she popped out on the other side of the wall, she fell to the ground, sobbing. What had she done? She had left her best friend in there. To die.

  There wasn’t much time to mourn as Wyatt came through the opening not long after and urged her onward. She wanted to fight him, but it was no use.

  He pulled her the rest of the way through the cavern until they were in the sunlight. As soon as he released her arm, she sat on the grass and wept. She wasn’t sure how much time passed before she sensed someone kneeling beside her. Looking up, she saw Timothy. He pulled her into his embrace, and she continued crying on his shoulder.

  “It’s Ellie,” she mumbled through her tears, “He wouldn’t help me save Ellie. I’ll . . . never . . . forgive . . . him.”

  Katherine found herself in the present, hunched in front of the tombstone, sobbing just as she had so many years before. She slammed her fist into the earth and was rewarded with a stinging sensation in her hand. Why had God let Ellie die instead of her? Why couldn’t Wyatt have helped her save her best friend? Her heart ached with the heaviness of these unanswered questions.

  She didn’t know how long she remained there, caught up in her grief. But dusk had fallen before she found her way out of her memories. By then she was seated with her legs folded in front of her, tears pouring out until there were no more. And she became aware of a presence. Someone watching her.

  Turning, she spotted a figure dressed all in black at the edge of the cemetery. Timothy? She let out a broken sigh. Katherine didn’t want him to see her like this, her tear-streaked, dirt-marred face. Yet, here he was. And, from the gentle sounds of the crunching grass, she guessed he moved toward her.

  He came to a halt just short of where she sat. But he did not speak for several long moments. She didn’t mind. The silence was more comfortable for her.

  “Are you all right, Katie?” Came his soft question at long last.

  She nodded, still resisting the urge to look up at him.

  He eased himself down to sit next to her. And they sat in that comfortable silence again for some moments more.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She sniffled. He didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “It was an accident. Tragic. But an accident all the same.”
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  Rubbing a hand across her face, she became more determined not to start crying again. Timothy didn’t know the whole story. How could he? He only knew what he’d been told.

  “Katie,” Timothy said after some time as he leaned toward her.

  She shifted to look at him. His eyes were kind, sincere. Glossy as if fighting back their own tears.

  “Let me walk you home.” He put forth a tentative hand, reaching for hers.

  Sliding her hand into his, she allowed herself to take comfort in the strength of his warm hand closing around hers.

  Then he rose to his feet and tugged at her hand, encouraging her to stand as well.

  With some reluctance, she lifted her other hand to him and let him lift her to her feet. Once standing, she became all too aware of how she must look. She turned her head.

  “I must be a sight,” she said, her face warming.

  “You are.” Timothy rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. “A lovely sight.”

  Her eyes met his, certain to find anything but the intensity she saw there. The warmth of his gaze held hers comfortably.

  His face broke in a smile. And, turning sideways, he offered his elbow to her. “Shall we?”

  Nodding, she took his arm and allowed him to lead her back toward the boarding house. And, as much as she felt spent, she also knew comfort.

  * * *

  Dr. Wyatt Sullivan made his way to the church. The time for another monthly town council meeting had come. As he did so often on his walks through the town, he considered the small city under his care. Buildings lined the quaint city street, which stretched out, cutting through a section of wilderness. This town had been his home. And these people had been his friends, his neighbors, his family. Now they were also his patients. While the responsibility of that was a heavy burden, he tried to bear it well.

  Moving beyond the main street, he came closer to the church building. Happily situated near enough to the town to be under its protection and jurisdiction, yet several feet away from the hubbub of activity, the church stood in quiet assent to the passage of time. It was one building that had not changed much these many years. Like the schoolhouse, the townsfolk had kept up the appearance of the building, but it had neither been rebuilt nor expanded in the booming years Cripple Creek had seen.