“It’s not my field. I’m working it for my uncle. But if I did have a field this big and I had a good money crop, I’d hire you. And we would talk a fair price for the labor.”
“Then you remember me when you git yerself that there field. Matt’s the name.” His dark hand clasped Jared’s in a firm handshake. “I work at the cave.”
Jared stepped back when heard these words. “You work at the cave? You mean Dr. Croghan’s cave?”
“Shore do. Even help guide in the cave. Though Stephen does most of it. He’s the big guide there. He knows more about that place than anyone does. Why, he’s seen things a person cain’t hardly believe.”
Despite his opinion of the cave and all the misery it had wrought, Jared couldn’t help the curiosity that bubbled up within. “Like what?”
“Oh, let’s see. A big rock they call the Giant’s Coffin. Ain’t nevah seen no giant though. Ha! There’s a pit that goes on forever, amen. Ain’t no end to it, no suh. Dropped my torch down there once. Just disappeared.”
“What?”
“A bottomless pit. Stephen used some wood planks there to cross it when he saw it so’s he could get to the other side. He twernt skeered one bit, no suh. Can you imagine falling into a pit like that now? See yer years fly by you, you would.”
“I guess so,” Jared said slowly, trying to imagine such a sight as a pit that went on forever.
“Oh, and Stephen dun find himself fish without eyes in the river that goes underground there. After a place called Winding Way.”
“Fish without eyes? In an underground river?”
“Yep. Guess the good Lawd knows them fish don’t need eyes if they live in a cave. What’s there to see in all that dark? Cain’t see yer hand in front of yer face anyways. I’ve been there with the lantern snuffed out. Cain’t see a thing.” He laughed. “Though sometimes I think I can. Just my mind playin’ tricks, ya know.”
Jared stared in awe and, for the briefest moment, he envisioned the cave, not as a place of danger and destruction but one of wonder and intrigue. He considered what else such a place held until he saw the man take out a folded piece of paper from inside his ratty coat.
“Got a letter here for you.”
A letter for me? Who would be writing me? He could scarcely believe it as he took the sealed communication. “Uh. . .thank you.”
“Shore thing. Gotta go. Don’t you forget me now when you git yerself that land, you hear? Name’s Matt.” The man flicked the reins and the horse took off.
Jared stared down at the letter with his name clearly written on it. He found himself a stump to sit on and slowly broke the seal. He unfolded the thick brown paper.
Dear Mr. Edwards,
I beg you to excuse my rude behavior at the hotel the other day. I hope you will forgive me. I have considered what you said. I want you to know that I am trying to understand. I do hope you will try to understand my life here, also, so we might come to a reasonable agreement. I believe this is what the Lord would have us do.
Most respectfully, I am,
Susanna Barnett
Mammoth Cave Hotel
Edmonson County, Kentucky
He reread the note three times but still couldn’t quite believe it. He gazed upward. Sunlight streamed through the trees with leaf buds just beginning to burst open on the warm wind of a fine spring day. How thankful he was that Susanna had taken the time to write him and share her thoughts. He was glad to see her thinking and considering his side. Beneath the hard woman there was still the glimmer of the one who had held the bouquet of flowers. On the heels of this, too, he realized his own stubbornness. They’d both been argumentative that day, each seeking to convince the other of their own opinions—and both had remained as stony and hard as the cave they debated. They needed more understanding, more of that Christian love and forbearance, a heart of flesh.
He folded the letter and stowed it away in his pocket before ambling back to the horse and plow. “Now what do I do?” he asked. The animal once more turned its head. These must be answers to his prayer, both the talk by the man named Matt and now the letter by Susanna Barnett. Was God slowly unveiling his future? If so, what was it exactly? Surely his future could not include someone like Susanna. Proud Susanna in her fine dresses, store-bought bonnets, slippers that had never touched the mud of a field, the sweet scent of flowers that drifted on the wind whenever she came near. These signs must mean something else.
“Let’s go,” he told the horse. Soon his uncle would return and there was still a good deal of field left to plow. He wanted to be long gone before Uncle Dwight arrived so as to avoid a confrontation.
He sighed as he drove the plow forward. Uncle Dwight and Susanna. And in between them a bottomless pit, eyeless fish in an underground river, and the darkness that was Mammoth Cave. All parts to some great plan yet to unfold, he was certain.
❧
As twilight began to fall, Jared saw another cloud of dust and heard the rattling of a wagon. He hastened to drive the horse and plow back into his uncle’s barn just as Uncle Dwight appeared over the horizon, accompanied by several men on horseback. Many of the men Jared recognized from the confrontation at the hotel, including George Higgins and others. Not all the men held a grievance with Dr. Croghan and the cave. Some were simply angry for anger’s sake and wanted a quarrel to give them something to do. Each man dismounted, wearing a hardened face and rugged clothing, stained with the sweat of labor in the fields. Some carried guns. One held stubbornly to his jug of liquor.
Jared stepped back into the barn, wondering why they came armed. Were they thinking of returning to the hotel again tonight? All at once, he envisioned Susanna, clad in her snow-white dress, her eyes wide with terror, pleading for help from the ruffians that had come to terrorize them. Despite his apprehension, Jared hurried out of the barn to find out what was afoot.
Uncle Dwight whirled and aimed his gun. “Who’s there?”
“Just me, Uncle.”
“Howdy, Jared,” Higgins said good-naturedly.
“Git off my land!” Dwight shouted. “You got no right here.”
“Don’t be so hard on him, Dwight,” Higgins said. “Jared’s a good fellar.”
“Good for what, I’d like to know,” Dwight muttered, leading the way into the cabin, followed by the men who all talked at once.
Jared threw aside his fear and entered the cabin on their heels. Despite what his uncle said, he was linked to the cave as much as they were and maybe more so. He would be a part of this whether they wanted him there or not.
“So what do you think?” asked a man named Abe Nichols, who poured out his potent brew into cups for all. When he offered the liquor to Jared, Jared shook his head. The odor made him sick to his stomach.
“We have no choice,” Dwight said. “They ain’t gonna budge, even if you think they are, Higgins.”
“I’d just as soon give them more time before we do something we might regret,” Higgins claimed. “We only talked to that doctor once. We need to keep after him.”
“Once is enough in my opinion,” Dwight declared. “Time to show him and all the rest of them highfalutin folk that we mean what we say.”
Jared stared from one man to the other, even as a dread filled him. Lord, what are they planning?
“Hey, and what happened with that girl you know?” Higgins asked Jared. “You talk to her? She gonna help?”
All eyes focused on Jared. He looked at each face tense with determination, anger, bitterness, revenge. “I don’t think she can do anything.”
Dwight slapped the table. “There, you see? They ain’t gonna do nuthin’, I tell you. We’re just wasting time. I say we blow ’em to kingdom come.”
Jared stared. Again, he suppressed his fear and asked with as calm a voice as he could muster, “So, how do you all plan to deal with this problem?”
“We got ourselves a good plan,” said Abe, combing his beard with his fingers. “I got me some good powder.”
“We’re gonna
blow up that no-good cave,” Dwight snarled. “Seal it up good so no one can go in there ever again and no highfalutin doctor can make money on the misery of others.”
Blow up the cave? He looked to Higgins. Surely he couldn’t agree with such a plan. “What do you say about this, Mr. Higgins?”
Higgins took a swig of the brew in his tin cup before wiping his hand across his mouth. “Well, I still think we ought to try and do some more talking.”
“Not only that, but you could end up killing innocent people!” Jared added.
Their eyes once again focused on him.
“Ha!” Dwight cried, standing to his feet, his breathing ragged. “And you talk about us killin’, after my Mattie died on account of you.”
“Now, Dwight,” Higgins began. “You can’t blame Jared for that. He was trying to help. He had no idea she was gonna die. None of us knew we’d lose our loved ones in that place.”
His uncle settled back in his chair, muttering. Jared gave Higgins what he hoped was a look of gratitude.
“And we ain’t gonna kill no one,” said Abe. “At least I ain’t. I just wanna make sure the cave is sealed up. I’m tired of all the fussing about it and the fancy folk coming here by stage to see it. Not a moment’s peace around here.”
“But people still live in the cave,” Jared protested, ignoring the look of anger painted on Uncle Dwight’s face. “You seal it shut, and they could be trapped. How can you bury people alive?”
The men grew quiet then, mulling over his words. Even Dwight stayed silent.
“Jared is right,” Higgins declared. “I think we need to let the talking do the work. We’ll meet again with the doctor. Lean on him harder than we have been. I think we did rattle them by showing up like we did the other night. So we’ll keep it up, and I believe we’re gonna see a change.”
Jared exhaled slowly, thankful for Higgins’s support that put the scheme of violence to rest—at least for the time being. He touched Susanna’s letter in his pocket. He couldn’t bear to see terror grip her should some explosion rock her home. There had to be other ways to resolve these differences.
“You got some wisdom in you,” Higgins commented to Jared when the meeting concluded. He strode over to his mount and patted the animal before gathering up the reins. “Ought to git my ornery son to listen to you instead of him taking off into the hills like he does. He could learn a heap.”
“You don’t think anyone’s gonna blow up the cave, do you, Mr. Higgins?”
“Not now,” he said with a grunt, hoisting himself into the saddle and bringing the animal about. “But it’s really up to Dr. Croghan what happens next. And I must say, if he wants to avoid trouble, he’d better come up with a solution to this.”
“And what if he doesn’t?”
“Don’t know, Jared. You heard what was said. Look, I had someone close to me die in that cave. Don’t you think that place should be closed up? It buried our kin. It should be buried, too. No one should be able to visit there anymore. It’s like holy ground, I guess you could say.”
“I don’t know, sir. I didn’t look at it that way.”
“Well, maybe you should. Then maybe you would see why your uncle and the others think the way they do.” With a yah he galloped off down the road.
A wave of dread came over Jared as he leaned over the fencing. God, what is happening with everyone? Here he’d thought Higgins might feel as he did, avoiding violence at all cost and seeking whatever peace could be found in the situation. But if things did not go as planned, Higgins could not be trusted either. God, please don’t let it come to violence, he prayed.
Seven
Jared must have read Susanna’s letter at least a dozen times over the course of the past few days. Meanwhile, the fields lay untended, the eggs still in the chicken coop, and the wood unsplit as he sat on the porch step of his humble cabin and stared at the sheet of paper. Even thoughts of the meeting with his uncle and friends rapidly faded away. Instead, he imagined her forming the words with each stroke of the instrument dipped in ink, her blue eyes focused on the sentences she wrote, spelling out her heart. At least, he thought her eyes were blue. He wasn’t certain. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at her eyes, what with the encounter in the cemetery coming as dusk fell. At least he knew her hair was the color of brown sugar. And she wore fine dresses. The mark of a true lady, rich and proud.
He looked around at his cabin. He once thought this place to be the best thing he had ever built. Now thinking of Susanna, it looked small and shabby, unfit for a woman of her means. He wiped his hand across his eyes. Why would he be thinking of Susanna living here of all places? She was used to a castle, the hotel with its fine furniture and fancy folk. He was but a humble farmer. She would never consent to a life like this—and with him of all men.
Yes, his uncle had made good money growing cash crops, and he had taken his fair share of the profits. He had money to his name. But his family always did live simply. He never once considered deserting this humble cabin for a house of brick or stone, with fine furniture on which to rest easy. As his aunt always said, it was good to have extra money on hand for special needs and not to spend it on foolish pleasantries. One didn’t know if the plow might break, a horse would need shod, or someone would happen by who could use a helping hand.
Jared stood to his feet and entered his little cabin to look at the money accrued in the jar. There was plenty to spare—money even to buy Susanna something special. Maybe enough to buy her heart and abandon the hotel life to take up residence with him. That would be grand. But is that what he wanted to do? Buy her understanding and her love?
He pushed away the thought and stuffed some of the money into his pocket. He needed provisions from town anyway. Salt pork. Beans. Tea. Maybe he’d get his uncle some of that horehound candy he fancied. And maybe Susanna might enjoy a few sweets as well. A small token, really. He could sweeten up both her and Uncle Dwight at the same time. Make them see that he wasn’t an awful person, that he was someone they both could trust.
Jared saddled one of the two horses he owned, the fine tan mare his father had left him. A journey to Brownsville would be a nice diversion from the myriad of thoughts that swirled in his head these days. Soon he was on his way, deciding to make the most of this pleasant spring day. The air felt warm and soothing on his face. The grass had begun to green up, and a few more flowers began their showy display of color, like the violets and pink columbine. It all reminded him of the work he still needed to do. He should be home planting the fields and not heading to town. But other things drove his heart and spirit at the moment, like a lovely young woman who had taken the time to write him when he needed it most. He wasn’t good with words or he would write back. In his eyes, a gift would say it all.
Presently he saw a stately coach heading toward him on the rough road with horses prancing. The driver lifted his hand to Jared, signaling him to stop. The door of the coach opened, and a gentleman peered out.
“Good morning. I’m Otis Clark. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
Jared steadied his mount with a firm grip on the reins. “Jared Edwards. What can I do for you?”
“We would like to know where the cave is. Mammoth Cave, that is. Can you direct us?”
He felt the heat crawl into his cheeks at the mere mention of the place. It conjured up memories both good and bad—bad on account of his aunt’s passing, good by way of Susanna.
“The one owned by a certain doctor,” the man continued. “Surely you’ve heard of it. We came all the way from Philadelphia just to see it.”
Jared pondered this. Should he tell them to have a good trip and direct them to the right road? Or should he tell them the cave was dangerous? That it hurt people, and they would do better to return home? If he didn’t warn them, wouldn’t he be a hypocrite?
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I know of it. But I must warn you, there are strange diseases afoot in that place.”
“What?” A woman�
��s face now appeared beside Otis Clark’s, the bow of her bonnet tickling the man’s face. “Did I hear there is some disease in the cave?”
Jared removed his hat. “Yes, ma’am, a bad disease there. Several have died. Including my own aunt.”
“We’ve only heard from friends what an interesting place the cave is,” claimed the gentleman. “There are tours and everything.”
“They have tours. But with the disease and all, it’s just too dangerous to go there.”
The man and woman looked at each other. “And we came all this way,” she pouted. “How can this be?”
“Don’t fret, my dear. It must be providential that this young man is warning us of the danger.” He glanced back once more at Jared. “What disease is it, may I ask?”
“Consumption.”
The woman’s hand flew to her mouth in aghast. “Oh no! How dreadful! Otis, please tell the driver to take us away from here. I don’t want to be anywhere near that cave. Think of our children!” She went on, even as she settled back in her seat. “This is terrible. How can they be conducting tours there when there are people dying inside?”
“Thank you,” Otis called out before ordering the driver to turn around.
Jared sat still on his mount, watching the coach slowly turn and proceed back down the road from whence it came. Suddenly his desire to go to Brownsville to buy Susanna a gift had likewise been rerouted. He had just sent back people who would have come to tour the cave and feed money into the purses of Susanna’s family and, yes, Susanna herself. Nevertheless, he had no choice. Some things were more important than money—like people’s lives. Susanna had to realize it. They all did.
Jared looked down the long road that led to Brownsville and decided to continue. If nothing else, he would still lay in provisions at the store. And maybe a small bit of candy for his uncle to sweeten his sour spirit. But anything for Susanna would have to wait for a long time, he feared. Especially if she discovered how he had chased patrons away from her cave.
❧
Brownsville, nestled beside the Green River, was the only thriving community in these parts. The small, close-knit town served the needs of travelers and farmers alike. There was the general store, a mill, an iron forge, and a hotel boasting fine mineral springs with healing in them, or so the towns-people said. Jared stopped at the general store and anchored his reins to a rail. He hadn’t been to town in quite a while. In fact, it may have been before his aunt died. He recalled coming here with Uncle Dwight, seeing friends, talking about the crops. The friends had inquired about Aunt Mattie’s health, with a sideways glance toward Jared. Dwight said he expected her to do just dandy in the cave, and when spring came, to be as healthy as any of them.
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