by Lisa Bingham
Mystified, she nodded. “That sounds wonderful.”
His smile was soft and gentle and filled with meanings she couldn’t begin to fathom.
“I hope so.”
From deep in the Dovecote, a chime sounded, and he grimaced. “Wish I could stay...”
“I understand.”
He settled his hat onto his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then, before she realized what he was about to do, he bent forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Bye, Sumner.”
As he left in a swirl of snow and cold air, her eyes unconsciously flickered closed as she absorbed the lingering scents of bay rum and hair tonic, wood smoke and the outdoors. And she knew that she would forever associate those scents with Jonah Ramsey and that kiss.
Her hand lifted to touch her cheek. And much like Jonah, she felt different somehow. Special.
She wasn’t just a “girl” anymore.
She was Jonah’s girl.
No. She mustn’t think like that. To even entertain the possibility of a relationship would mean the end of her wish to become a doctor.
Her chest suddenly felt as if it were made of stones and she was filled with a sinking premonition. Tomorrow’s outing...could it be that Jonah wanted to formally ask to court her?
No.
Although she cared for the man—deeply—there could be no future for them. Not without giving up so much. Jonah would be left without employment. And she...she would never be allowed to pursue her career. Could any marriage survive such disappointments?
No. Not even the strongest of bonds could endure the death of one’s dreams.
The joy that had so recently bloomed within her completely withered away when she realized that she would have to cancel her outing with Jonah. It would be easier to stop things now, before they’d ever began.
So why, then, did she feel like such a miserable coward?
* * *
Sumner rolled in her bed, frowning as the wisps of sleep melted away like fog. Blinking, she discovered that it was still dark, the moon high in the sky outside her window. Which meant it could only be two or three in the morning?
She sighed, pulling the blankets tighter around her neck as she became aware of the chill touching her skin. The coals in the infirmary stove would have died down, which meant that she should try to go back to sleep.
Her head whipped to the side and her gaze scoured the darkness as she tried to pinpoint the unfamiliar sound.
Bells?
Sweeping the covers back, she grasped for her robe, already running through the Dovecote to whip open the outer door. The sound came louder now. From the camp.
The alarm bell.
A few of the women must have been awakened by the same noise, because they huddled on the stairway, trying to peer into the darkness.
“What is it, Sumner?” Myra whispered loudly.
“Get everyone up,” Sumner called out. “Something must have happened at the mine. That’s the alarm bell.”
As Sumner rushed back to her own quarters, she could hear the knocks and calls as the news was spread throughout the building.
Sumner paused at her washbasin to splash cold water on her face. Then she dressed as fast as she could. As she buttoned and combed and pinned, she offered a silent prayer to Heaven.
Dear Father of all that is great and good in this world, please bless the men in the mine and those above, whatever the dangers might be.
By the time she returned to the main room, her bag in hand, there were several women waiting. She didn’t even need to offer instructions.
“Stefania, Marie and I will get the cook shack opened and fires laid,” Lydia said as she buttoned her coat. “The mine is cold and damp and wet and if there’s been an accident there, the men will need somewhere warm to go.”
“We’ll have coffee and hot water on as soon as the coals can be revived,” Stefania added.
The three women headed out into the cold.
Iona came hurrying down the steps, Willow trailing close behind her.
“Willow and I will head to the infirmary. We can get the fires going and the lamps lit, just in case.”
Myra and Myrna were already striding around the Dovecote. “The rest of us will wait here. We’ll get the fires roaring and the lamps lit. If you need more help, you can either send the minor problems to us, or let us know where you need us to go.”
Sumner blinked for several minutes, amazed at how much they’d all learned to help one another over the past few weeks.
“Thank you. Thank you, all. If we have men who require some bandaging, I’ll send them to you and the women in the Dovecote. Make sure that you thoroughly clean any cuts and scrapes. Then slather a little of my homemade ointment on the wounds before applying the bandages.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pointed to Ruth, Emmarissa, Greta and Louisa. “Why don’t the four of you come with me. Maybe this is a false alarm...” But as she paused, it was clear that the bell hadn’t stopped. It continued to ring in such a hectic pace that it caused her own pulse to pound with urgency. “The five of us will see what information we can obtain at the mining offices first. Then I’ll send a few of you back to inform the others and gather supplies if necessary.”
“Yes, Dr. Havisham.”
Plunging her arms into the sleeves of her coat, Sumner didn’t even pause for her bonnet. Instead, she draped a scarf tightly around her neck and hurried into the night.
None of them said a word as they rushed out into the newly fallen drifts, funneling into a single-file line until the snow could be broken enough to form a trail. Ironically, when they needed them most, their Pinkerton guards were curiously absent. Not that Sumner would have expected them to be on guard night and day. But...
If they’d been in attendance, maybe they could have offered them some information.
Overhead, the sky was inky and clear and cold, the stars glittering like chips of ice, the moon hanging like a sad crooked smile. Leading the way, Sumner shivered as the snow began to seep over the tops of her boots and cake on the hems of her skirts, weighing her down.
Something had happened.
Something horrible.
She could feel it in her very bones.
Finally, finally, they managed to reach the boardwalks of the main thoroughfare.
As she drew closer, Sumner began to see a knot of people ebbing and flowing around the office steps. Ezra Batchwell stood at its top, issuing orders and pointing. As the women closed the distance, he finally noticed them. Without hesitation, he pointed to Sumner shouting, “This is your doing! All of you! I warned you women about the consequences of distracting the men from their jobs, but you all kept pushing and pushing the boundaries you’d been given. Now you may have killed them with your carelessness!”
Phineas Bottoms emerged from the offices and rushed to Ezra’s side. Tugging on his arm, he tried to pull him inside, but Ezra wouldn’t budge.
“I want you all out of here, as soon as humanly possible. I won’t have you endangering their lives further. I won’t have you ruining what we’ve worked so hard to build here!”
“Enough, Ezra!”
Sumner had heard Phineas Bottoms speak only a half-dozen times—and never in anger. The shock of hearing him do so now cut through the confusion on the street, bringing a startling silence.
“You’ve spoken your piece, Ezra, now move on back into the office and let the men get back to work. This isn’t the time for a confrontation or an argument. Once you’ve calmed down—”
“Those chits will still be here! The problem will remain!”
“Get inside, Ezra!”
The words boomed through the valley and echoed off the mountains themselves.
Still red-faced and seething, Batchwell stomped inside.
Bottoms waited a moment, before turning to the crowd.
“All of you get to the mine and see what you can do to help. And you—” he speared a finger in Sumner’s direction “—get that infirmary opened up. We’ll be sending the injured men to you as soon as we can reach them.”
Injured men.
The stark words sent a shiver down her spine.
She touched a nearby man on the shoulder, asking, “What happened in the mine?”
He glanced at her impatiently but said, “A bump. An explosion. Gases can sometimes build up, and if there’s a spark...” He gestured with his hands, conveying the resulting explosion. “The fire blew itself out as soon as it started, but one of the tunnels collapsed and there are men trapped.”
Sumner’s mind immediately scrambled into gear.
Explosion.
That meant burns.
Tunnel collapsed.
There would be broken bones, lacerations, internal injuries.
She didn’t bother to say another word, simply turned and ran in the direction of the infirmary.
Once there, she found Iona and Willow on the boardwalk. Too late, she realized that she no longer had a key to open the door. She doubted that she had the time to find Jonah—even if such a feat would be possible in all the confusion. Closing her eyes, she rued the fact that she could once again be incurring Mr. Batchwell’s wrath, but it couldn’t be helped.
“We need to get in somehow.”
Greta shouted something in German and motioned for the women to get out of the way. Then, without warning, she ran full force into the door, hitting it squarely with her shoulder. The flimsy lock gave way—along with part of the threshold.
“Well done!” Sumner said with a grin, then she and the women rushed inside.
Orders didn’t need to be given. Remembering what they’d done the last time the infirmary had been used, they began rushing to ready the rooms. Louisa and Ruth carried in firewood while Greta unrolled mattresses and covered them with linens and blankets. In the meantime, Iona and Willow stoked the fires and gathered buckets of snow to melt for hot water.
When the preparations were just about finished, Sumner pointed to Emmarissa. “Go back to the Dovecote and explain what has happened. Divide everyone into two teams. Leave one group at the Dovecote and send the rest back here.”
“I’ll hurry,” Emmarissa promised as she ran out the door.
The woman had barely disappeared around the corner when a stream of men began carrying the wounded inside.
Seeing a familiar face dressed in Pinkerton blue, Sumner pointed to Dobbs. “Stand on the boardwalk. Send those with minor injuries to the Dovecote, and the more severe cases in here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Iona—”
“I’ll stay near the door and direct the most grievous injuries your way. If it’s something that can wait, I’ll have Willow and the other girls begin washing and bandaging things until you can get to them.”
“Thank you.”
Sumner hesitated only a moment, overcome with a wave of déjà vu. But those sensations passed when she realized that what she had seen after the avalanche was nothing compared to the wounds she was witnessing now. The miners being ushered inside were filthy, wet and cold. They had broken bones and burns on their hands, faces and shoulders—and there were so many men. As she began to examine them, she heard snippets of conversation that, combined with the injuries, gave her a clear picture of what had occurred.
...tunnels gassy...
...stray spark from a pickax...
...ball of fire...
...timbers collapsed...
...men still trapped...
Then there was no time to ponder on what was happening belowground. She couldn’t have said how many of the injured had been sent to the Dovecote, but every available cot in the infirmary was filled within minutes. Then the chairs. Pallets on the floor.
Sumner moved from person to person, instructing the women on how to clean and tend to the burns. It wasn’t the first time that she had been exposed to so many severe wounds. She’d been present at a hospital in London when factory workers had been brought in after a boiler had exploded. But she’d been allowed to do little more than watch since such injuries would “insult her delicate sensibilities.”
Delicate sensibilities or not, Sumner was fiercely determined to help these miners. She ordered more buckets of snow be brought in to take the heat from the wounds, and removed slivers and chunks of wood from their skin.
Even so, there was a part of her that listened for a familiar set of footfalls and the low rumble of Jonah’s voice.
She knew it was silly. He was probably down in the mine, helping to free those who were still trapped. There was no reason on earth why he would come to the infirmary just to check on her—and the fact that he hadn’t proved that he’d come to trust her abilities.
But even with those inner assurances, her gaze skipped to the windows after each patient. Bit by bit, she watched the sky ease from black to gray to pink as night gave way to morning.
The door burst open and she looked up again, enduring the same wave of disappointment when she found it was Miriam carrying a pail of snow into the infirmary.
“Have there been any updates?” Sumner asked as she approached.
“From what I’ve heard, they’ve managed to punch a small hole through the debris to get air to the trapped men. There are about a dozen or so miners still trapped with Mr. Ramsey.”
Sumner’s head snapped up. “What? Mr. Ramsey is trapped in the mine?”
“That’s what I was told. He and that nice Mr. Creakle.”
Her fingers began to tremble and she turned away from her patient under the guise of washing her hands in a nearby basin of water. But the trembling didn’t cease. Instead, it swept through her whole body until she could scarcely stay upright.
Not Jonah.
Not Creakle.
Although she’d known there were men trapped, having names made things so much worse. Instead of imagining hazy silhouettes caught behind a wall of rock and shattered timbers, she now had faces.
An icy fist clenched around her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
Fragmented thoughts raced through her brain like runaway horses. Could Jonah breathe? Was he injured? Had he been burned?
Was he alive?
In an instant, all of her hopes and fears coalesced around a single thought.
Please, please, Dear Lord in Heaven...let him be safe. Let them all be safe.
As she blindly reached for one of the rolls of bandages, she felt her whole body vibrate with a sense of regret. In that instant, she realized what a fool she’d been. She had grimly clung to her preconceived notions of how her future should unfold without ever bothering to see that perhaps God had offered her a new path. She’d been so sure that her love of doctoring and her love—yes, love—for Jonah couldn’t coexist. She’d foolishly doubted her Creator and pinned her hopes on her own stupid pride. In doing so, she’d failed to see that, where love is concerned, there are no absolutes. True, it might not be possible for her to practice medicine here. Especially if she and Jonah were to live together as man and wife. But that didn’t mean that such a future was unattainable. In order to be together, she and Jonah would have to make sacrifices and compromises, to be sure, but she’d never even given him a chance to talk things over.
And that might be the worst mistake that she’d ever made.
“Dr. Havisham? Are you unwell?”
Sumner’s head jerked up, and she glanced over her shoulder at the man who still waited for her to bind his wounds. She knew him. She’d talked to him the other night when she’d been pouring coffee at the cook shack.
Mr. Ingraham. The wizened little man who loved taxidermy and had made the stuffed ferret clowns. C
lowns that the women had originally found appalling, but which had become quirky, endearing mascots within the Dovecote.
Blinking against the burning of her eyes, she tried to paste a bright smile on her lips. Her efforts must have looked as hollow as they felt, because Ingraham still regarded her with open concern.
“I’m fine.” Her voice was sandpaper rough, so she quickly cleared her throat. Then, knowing that nothing but the truth would do, she offered, “I’m worried about the men who are still trapped. They’ve been down there a long time.”
Ingraham reached out to touch her hand, his grizzled beard twitching as he made a soft tutting noise. “Don’t you fear none, Dr. Havisham. Those men are tough, you hear?”
Her lips trembled at the way Ingraham offered her comfort when she had none—and the gesture caused the tears to well behind her lashes. How she’d come to care for these men. These brave, upstanding, hardworking men.
“I’m sure you’re right, Mr. Ingraham.”
“And they’ve got the Lord on their side, as well. That’s why the men go to Devotional twice a day. It was something we started all on our own. Mine work is dark and dirty and dangerous, and a body needs a little divine intervention now and then.” He offered her a sweet Father Christmas smile. “That’s why this is such a special place to work, even if it means we have to be away from our families for a little while.”
Suddenly, she realized what Jonah had been trying to convey to her when the women had first been marooned Aspen Valley. Over and over again, he’d tried to impress upon her that the women would cause problems, remind the men of the loved ones they’d left behind. And in this instant, when she didn’t know when—or if—she would see Jonah again, she had a small taste of that exquisite agony. She couldn’t imagine the heartache of waiting years to see a loved one again.
“Do you have family waiting for you, Mr. Ingraham?”
The man’s whole face lit up. “Yes, ma’am. I have a wife and three sons. My oldest son is married and I have three little grandbabies waiting for me near Aberdeen.” His forehead puckered. “They’re probably not so little now. When I left them, they were wee bairns toddling around the yard. But ach...they’d be strapping lads.” He tapped his head. “But up here, they’re but wee things, y’ know?”