A Message for Julia (11 page)

Everyone groaned. They were so tired of technical explanations. It was time for answers. Julia ground her teeth in frustration, but still, she moved closer, wanting something she could understand.

“This is the geological survey of the mountain,” Patrick began. “These two Xs are where we're drilling first. This one is for air. This one, a little to the north, is bigger. We'll send the equipment, cameras and com
munication devices down this one.” He pointed to the first mark.

Jack and Raymond nodded. They understood and weren't reacting with any alarm. Julia felt Missy slip her hand in hers, her fingers stiff and cold.

Mamie hobbled forward. “How far down have they gotten?” The clatter of her walker accented each word.

Patrick sighed and turned away from the map. “Fifty feet.”

“Fifty feet?” Julia cried. “You said the men are at least two hundred feet down.”

“At least,” Patrick agreed. “But so far, it's all we've got.”

“When do you expect to reach them?” Jace's voice was calm and deep, so unlike Julia's shrill demand.

“Tomorrow morning at the earliest,” Patrick said softly and Julia almost fell to her knees. “The big drill's being set up now. We'll start that as soon as it's ready.”

“Hey,” a man called from outside the tent. “Hey.” Before any of them could move, Randy Watson shoved his head through the opening, his smile wide. He didn't wait for an invitation to speak. “We got taps.”

The room erupted with noise. Hugs were everywhere. Julia neither knew nor cared whose arms were around her or who she held. She just knew hope was alive and well.

“How many?” Patrick's smile, while genuine, was tempered.

“Seven. All seven alive.”

Friday Night, Thirty-Three Hours Underground

L
INC SETTLED BACK IN
the shelter, this time right next to the canvas, near the opening that eased his claustrophobia. He pulled out the note, glaring at it. Maybe he shouldn't have even started to write it.

His heart hurt just to think about it. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the wall. He tried to picture Julia reading it, hoping to find a clue to what to write, what words might give her peace. But each time he envisioned her reading it, he saw the tears, the pain on her face, and heard her sobs.

Because while he knew their marriage was on shaky ground, he truly believed she still loved him. He knew he still loved her, so why couldn't they find that simple truth when they were together?

Why did the angry words stop them from reaching for each other? Why did the hurt not allow for the needed comforting hug? Hell, why didn't the passion he knew they shared not overcome the hesitancy?

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Gabe whispered and his chuckle disintegrated into a cough. Linc helped him sit up better and the cough subsided.

“What's that supposed to mean, old man?”

“You're thinking too hard. Trying to fix all the world's troubles…or at least those you think you're leaving behind.”

“Hardly. I can't even fix my own, much less the world's.”

Gabe laughed again, but no coughing fit followed,
thank goodness. “Zach convince you to write that goodbye letter?”

This time Linc chuckled. “Thinking about it.”

“Thinking don't get it done.”

That was true. “You writing one?”

“Nope. Don't have to.”

“Why?”

“Wrote one years ago—when I had my first heart attack. Left it in the safe deposit box. Shirley'll find it when I'm gone one day.”

“What'd you say? How did you say goodbye?”

“I didn't. I told her how much I appreciated having her, not how much I'd hate it without her. Think positive. Leave your wife with a light to see through the darkness ahead. Don't extinguish it by pointing out what's hurting her.”

Linc stared at the older man. “How'd you get so wise down here in the bowels of the earth?”

“Maybe talking to God near the devil's playground gives you points.” Gabe whispered the words, and Linc knew he'd drifted off to sleep, his energy spent trying to comfort someone else.

Linc let Gabe's words soak in. Maybe he'd gather a few points of his own. Closing his eyes, he wondered if he even remembered how to pray.

Saturday Morning, 3:00 a.m.

“W
HY THE HELL IS
L
INC
working in the mines?”

Jace spoke intently, yet so softly that Julia thought she might have imagined it. “I thought after what happened to Dad, he'd never go underground.”

“He's not a miner, he's an inspector.” There was no reason to believe Jace had any idea what Linc actually did for a living. “He only spends part of his time underground.”

Julia stared at Jace. The man was nothing like she'd thought the boy would become. He was rough and worn. His anger lived in his eyes, and she wasn't sure there was anything else behind that anger.

“You're Fancy Pants.”

She thought the curving of his lips might be a smile. The sound that came from his throat wasn't quite a laugh—more of a cackle if men did that. “I hated that nickname in school. Your brother gave it to me.”

“I know. And he was damned proud of it at the time, if I remember.”

“Thanks.” She let her sarcasm show. “Try to forget that, would you?”

“No.” He paused and the pseudo smile vanished. He hid behind his coffee cup for an instant.

Julia wondered what was going on inside his mind. She almost feared his next words, and she knew there were more.

“I don't have that many good memories of growing up. I'll keep that one, thanks,” he finally said.

The silence stretched out long and heavy. She wanted to tell him to keep talking. She didn't want her mind to fill with the images of Linc and the others still trapped, waiting…hoping…dying.

“Where have you been for the past ten years?” she ventured.

“On the road.” He fell silent again. “I left home and ended up in Sturgis, South Dakota, and I've been on the move ever since.”

She'd heard of the rough motorcycle town and stared at him. “You were only sixteen when you left.” She recalled news stories of brawls, gang fights and drugs there. It was no place for a kid.

“Yeah, and I grew up real fast,” he whispered.

“How did you survive?”

His eyes grew distant. “I almost didn't.”

This time she knew he wouldn't elaborate. She didn't push. She didn't want to know. Silently, she prayed that Jace wouldn't share any of those memories with Linc, if he survived to hear him. Linc's guilt over his brother running away was already too strong.

“I finally landed in L.A. That's where I met Mac. He's the only reason I'm alive today.”

Julia heard the reverence, the emotion in Jace's voice.
She wanted to thank the man but got the impression he wasn't around to thank. “Jace?”

She spoke to call him back to the present, knowing he was far away. “I know Linc will want to know what the past ten years have been like, but—” How did she ask him to lie, to sugarcoat the truth? “He feels responsible for your leaving, for all the pain in your life.” There, she'd said it.

He turned to glare at her then. “You're kidding, right?”

She refused to squirm under the intensity of his stare, but it wasn't easy.

“What are you most afraid of…him feeling more guilty, or him gloating over how he managed to make something of his life instead of ending up a street rat?” he asked.

“No, that's not what I meant.”

“Why are you trying to protect him?”

“I'm not.”

“Yes, you are. He's a grown man. He was an adult when I left. I won't lie to him. I owe him the truth.”

She wanted to argue, but the look on his face, the hard determination there, stopped her. “I—” The words stuck in her throat. She tried again. “The last couple of years, losing your mom, losing—” She swallowed hard. “It's been hard.”

“Life's hard, Fancy Pants.”

“Stop it.” She turned to walk away, and was surprised when his hand closed around her arm.

“Answer me one thing,” he said in her ear. “Why are
you
here? You left him. I heard your folks talking. You
were moving out of the house when the call came. What do you care what happens to him?”

“He's my husband.”

“And I repeat, you're leaving him.” He nearly spat the words. “Prove him right, why don't you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You've been married to him how long? I've been gone ten years and I still know him better than you do. He's never felt good enough for you. He's always known he'd never live up to your expectations.”

“That's ridiculous. He's successful. He's fine.”

“He let you go.” Jace released her arm. “He didn't even come after you when you left, did he?”

“No.” The single word tore from Julia's throat. He
hadn't
come after her. He'd let her go. He'd stayed on the front porch while she'd packed, while she drove away. He'd stayed in the house, their home, making a mess of it. He'd never tried to reach her. It wasn't true. He couldn't possibly feel inadequate.

And yet he hadn't come after her.

He'd let her go.

Her vision blurred, and she glanced away from Jace, the only person who had the nerve to tell her what she needed to know. Even Linc hadn't told her the truth.

Jace nodded and after an unnerving, accusatory glare, he headed for the coffee. She watched him go, wondering why she'd thought he was Linc at first. Other than the physical resemblance, they were nothing alike—were they?

She was willing to give Linc's brother the benefit of the doubt for his mood. These weren't normal
circumstances, but if he was that worried about his brother, why hadn't he contacted him even once in the past ten years? Why hadn't he bothered to call when his mother died? Linc would have appreciated that.

While Linc could slip into that same moody, angry place, he did it infrequently. She remembered how he'd allowed his emotions to rule him in high school, but he'd grown up, managed to find an even balance. He seldom gave in to his emotions.

The last time…

The last time had nearly destroyed them both.

Only once in their entire marriage did Julia remember having Linc all to herself. He was always so busy, taking care of the house, his mother until her death, his job—all things she appreciated. All that made her love him.

And they were all things that took him away from her more than they brought him to her.

He always tried to do the best for everyone else.

After she'd lost the baby, he'd taken time off from everything.

He'd packed her up and driven out to the mountains, to a quaint cabin on a small lake. He'd rented it for a whole week.

Why hadn't they even talked about doing something like that again? Why had they let life separate them? Why had
she
let things come between them?

Slowly, because her mind reluctantly accepted it, she realized she'd pushed him away. Looking around the room, she realized she'd pushed everyone away. Her
parents. Her neighbors. People who could have been her friends. But mostly, Linc.

All because she was afraid to face her past and risk being hurt. Instead, she'd nearly lost them completely.

Saturday Morning, Thirty-Seven Hours Underground

L
INC KNEW THAT SOMEWHERE
, up on the surface, teams were scrambling to dig through the tons of rock between them and the outside world.

He knew the procedures. The plans that would be put into action. He wasn't sure if the knowledge was a blessing or a curse.

Linc had only met Halston, the mine's CEO, once, but he'd worked with the Director of the Mining Commission many times. He liked and respected Patrick Kelly. The man knew his business. He'd been underground for years, knew the earth and its quirks as well as any miner.

Knowing that Patrick was in charge of this rescue operation alleviated some of Linc's stress.

If only he could rid himself of the anxiety of being trapped. Of this horrid fear that threatened to eat his sanity.

“Dear Heavenly Father.” Ryan's whisper was deep with pain and shaky with fear. Linc knew he shouldn't listen, knew that he should leave the boy to his confession. But the words were too real to be ignored.

“Forgive me for all the trouble I've been to Mom and Dad. And for all the bad things I've thought, you know,
about Missy.” His voiced trailed off. “And for hurting Mrs. Holmes.”

Linc started. How had Ryan hurt Julia? The kid hadn't done much except decide to quit school, but from Ryan's point of view, the whole mess probably seemed worse than it was.

“I suppose you heard that.” Ryan was addressing him now.

“Yeah,” Linc admitted.

“Sorry. I really didn't mean to cause trouble between you and her.”

Linc turned to stare in the direction of the boy's voice. The darkness was too thick to see anything at this point.

“What do you mean?” He wanted to hear what Ryan had to say, but he had no intention of admitting that trouble between him and Julia went back way longer than this issue.

“I heard her talking to Ms. Daily, the teacher she's subbing for—you know, the one who's out on maternity leave?”

Yeah, yeah, get on with it,
Linc wanted to say, but wisely held back. “About me?” he asked instead. He was shocked that Julia had said anything to the other teacher—she seldom confided in anyone, even him. If she was reaching out to a stranger, she must have felt more alone than he'd ever guessed. He wanted to know what she'd talked about.

“Not exactly.”

“Then what?”

“About her teaching job. Something about how she thought moving to the high school would help.”

“Help?” Linc was starting to feel like a parrot, but couldn't stop himself.

“I don't really know any details. She mentioned something about babies.”

The air stabbed Linc's lungs as he gasped. He'd been so stupid. He'd thought that if they just ignored it and went on with their lives, they'd both eventually get over their traumatic loss. That was why he'd shrugged off Julia's desire to see a fertility specialist. If they didn't acknowledge the problem, they could move on. Obviously, she hadn't. She'd quit the job she loved, taking herself away from the pain of seeing the children that would never be hers.

He closed his eyes, the visions behind his lids clear, familiar and all too painful.

Julia, her belly rounded with their child. The nursery she'd worked so hard to decorate. Her empty arms and vacant stare when he'd brought her home that wretched day.

And he saw her now, worry and pain on her face. Tears on her cheeks and fear in her heart. He knew her. Knew that though she'd hide it, her emotions would overwhelm her. Watching her pain had been worse than feeling his own. He'd promised her—and himself—that he'd never put her through that again.

He'd broken that promise.

Zach came over and sat beside them. “You know what's going on up there.” It was a statement.

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“So, is Gabe being straight? Is there really a drill that can get us the hell out of here?” Zach asked.

Linc waited a beat, noting the worry on the other man's face. “Yeah, there is. Remember Quecreek?”

“The one where they made the big drill?”

“Yeah.” That rescue was famous in the industry—the only one in decades where everyone survived. Hundreds of people had worked round the clock on that one.

“Think they'll bring it in for us?” Zach sounded almost as if he thought they might not bother.

“It's most likely already here.”

Zach nodded again, his shoulders visibly relaxing, accepting the information. “And how will they know where to drill?”

“The air and communication holes are tests.”

Zach stared up at the ceiling, as if listening to the distant grinding that had become constant background noise. “You think they'll be better than Utah?” Both men paused, avoiding each other's gaze.

“They'd better be,” Linc whispered. “There were never any signals in Utah. They never heard a thing.” They'd never even found the bodies of the men who'd died in that disaster back in 2007.

Zach sat a minute longer, then, just as they all had done numerous times before, he picked up the ball-peen hammer and slammed it against the pipe. The bangs were as much a message as a release of emotion. Linc worried that the pipe might shatter.

It didn't. The seven peals for seven alive rang loud enough to haunt Linc's nightmares in years to come.

God, he wanted those years.

Saturday Morning, 5:00 a.m.

J
ACE STARTLED
J
ULIA WHEN
he sat back down on the chair, the steaming cup of coffee nestled in his hands. He stared down into the drink as if there were some magical answer there.

“I should have gone home to see Mom.”

“Why didn't you?”

He met her gaze then and the awful pain in his eyes sliced clear through her.

“I was too busy with my buddy, Jack Daniel's.” He looked down again, but she didn't catch more than a faint flicker of emotion. “I keep track of things online when I can get to a connection. By the time I'd sobered up, the services were already over.”

“Even so, Linc would have liked to hear from you.”

“Yeah.” The way he drew out the word told her he didn't believe her.

“You don't know Linc now.” She felt anger growing toward this man who had caused so much pain to so many. “I know you thought he was an adult when you left, but he was only twenty-one.”

His temper, swift and sharp, surfaced and died just as quickly. “I didn't make the best choices then, and I don't always make them now.” He stood and took a sip of coffee as if preparing his thoughts. “I only knew about Linc because I stopped for a drink and saw his picture on some update on the television over the bar.” The self-loathing was strong in his voice. “The only reason I'm here…”