Jasper Mountain (35 page)

The mine president raised his eyes to Jack’s. They iced cold, no hint to betray what Victor might be thinking. “What is it? Other than a stack of ragtag papers?”

“Proposal. Process for mapping out the mines. I took the liberty and checked the old maps out myself. They are useless. There are scores of tunnels down there, and they are a huge safety hazard. Tom and Stoop are probably somewhere down there. At the rate we’re going, which is backward, we’ll never find a sign of them. Or of anyone else who might disappear.”

Victor leaned forward. “You trespassed? Went down in the mine on your own, without prior permission?”

Jack ignored the question. “These proposed processes will save you money in the long run. The numbers, the time involved, all included. The savings will recoup your time investment in a year and a half, and then the program will start paying out for something you should be doing anyway.”

Victor glared at Jack. The look used to stop him, but all it did at this point was kindle his determination.

“Processes detailed for search and rescue procedures, too. Again, time and cost estimate attached. Your men will be trained, your officers will know what to do and each have a function in an emergency situation. You’ll recoup these costs during the first incident. Which will happen any day.”

“You have no idea,” Victor muttered.

“Is that a threat?”

Familiar silk tones coated the mining mogul’s words. “Would I threaten the son of my oldest and dearest friend?”

“Let’s stop the games. Just once,” Jack said. “Oh, and security procedures, too. You have tons of explosives anyone can get their hands on. Other than dandies at desks and rifles in a cabinet, there is nothing in place, nothing thought through. This operation is a bunch of disasters waiting to happen.

“Very well.” Victor leaned back and steepled his fingers. “I must admit, I am impressed, but disappointed with your priorities. If you used even part of your wit for the good of the mining operation, you’d make me, and therefore yourself, very rich.”

“This will enhance the mining profit as well as the safety and the well-being of the men.” Jack sighed, tired of dancing around the main issue. Nothing like hitting something head-on, and it was high time he did it. “Doesn’t it mean anything to have employees who are treated fairly? Who work under safe conditions?”

Victor shrugged. “There are always more half-wits for hire.” He leaned forward. “I never took you for such a soft, ridiculous man. I must have left you down in the mine too long, and you have lost all reason. Do you have any idea what line you are drawing? What exactly you are walking away from?”

“How much money is enough for you, Victor? How many numbers on a page do you need before you feel like a man?”

“If you were more of a man, Mr. Buchanan,
Junior,
you’d be much happier and richer. I guarantee it.” Victor rose and picked up the papers, slamming them back to the desk. “Goddamn it, Jack, I brought you here to be my right-hand man, to help me with this business.” No silk to his words, just clenched fury, barely kept under control. “I thought I held the answer to your problems as well as my own. I bailed your family out of ruin, taught you my business, and this is how you repay me?”

“I know what you have done for my family, Victor, you remind me every chance you get. And I’d be happy to cooperate and give you all the support you need. You have to realize, you’d have someone who would honestly work to implement what’s right for both profits and the miners. Not another bug scuttling around to do your dirty work. You’ve got plenty of those, a whole, goddamned infestation right out there, in the front office.”

Victor stared. “All I ask from those in my circle is loyalty. A concept you don’t appear to understand, let alone practice.”

“I am loyal. I’m probably the only man in this company who has been honest and truthful with you. Seems you don’t like it so much.”

“And it seems you don’t like your ranch
so much.”

Jack stared, not speaking. Victor did the same, and suddenly there they were, locked once more in a child’s game.

Victor broke the standoff. “Get out of here, Jack. Consider the possibilities I offer you. Ponder what you are throwing away. And ponder well. I will give you no other chances.”

Victor sat and swung his chair around to look out the window. Jack’s tattered, smudged packet of papers sat on the mahogany desk, out of place. Just as out of place as he was.

The papers’ edges curled in defiance even as twine attempted to keep the packet tied down. Jack turned and left the office, paused, and closed the door quietly behind him.

Slamming it would be just plain rude.

“Hey, Jackie!” Digger straightened and grinned. “About damned time you show up.”

Jack clapped him on the back as he passed and walked along the tunnel where his men worked. Pete stopped swinging his sledge and turned.

Gentleman Bill bowed politely, a chunk of rock still in his hands. “How’s the back and arms?”

“Never better,” Jack said. As much as he hated the mine, he felt good to be with these men. For the first time, Pete tempered the suspicion in his expression. However, it hadn’t completely disappeared.

“Pete, Gentleman Bill, Dig, you guys come over here?”

Bill loaded the rock into the mule cart and stood. Mouse worked at the far end of the tunnel with Rolf. Neither looked over at him. Mouse couldn’t hear and probably didn’t realize Jack was even around, or he’d be swaggering over. Rolf, well, anyone’s guess as to why the big man was surly. It was, after all, the man’s constant state.

Once they were far enough down the tunnel for privacy, Jack stopped.

“I just came from a meeting with Victor Creely.” “We should be impressed?” Pete asked.

Jack shook his head. “No, Pete, not yet, but you might be if you just listen. I gave him a proposal. On everything the petition asked for and then some. Plans, numbers, everything he needs to change this whole operation around into a decent place to work.”

Pete laughed, a sound without humor. “Oh, I bet he’ll get to it the quickest he can.”

“Actually, I’m guessing he needs some encouragement.”

Jack watched his words sink in. Pete seemed bewildered, then looked at Jack with a reassessing expression.

A smile grew across Gentleman Bill’s face. “What do you have in mind?”

Jack took in a deep breath. Once he formed these words, there was no going back. “I think we should start by meeting with some of the night-shift miners. Especially the shift boss, Harley Quade. Can he be trusted?”

Bill and Pete exchanged looks. Neither talked, but both looked full of things to say.

“Gentlemen, if we all stand together, we can get Victor to take my proposal seriously. The one thing he resists, time after time, is a shutdown. He rolled over the searches for Tom and Stoop to keep this place going, and that made me realize we held the power all along. We can stop production and hit him right where he’ll hurt. On his precious ledger.”

“You hear what you’re sayin’, Buchanan?” Pete asked.

“Yep.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Jack sighed. “I’m not sure what else I can do, Pete.” “Jack’s already been to Victor to start all this,” Digger said. “Yeah, well, how do we know he’s tellin’ us true?” Pete asked. Jack shrugged. “What would I have to gain by lying?” “Like I said before. Our trust.”

“I won’t deny, I need it. Like you need mine.” Jack stopped to look each man in the face. “Do we accuse each other of everything we are scared of, or do we start taking the steps to change the way things are done?”

Sounds of mining echoed down the tunnel.

“Look, we been talkin’ on this for a good while, and it’s Jack Buchanan who is tellin’ us to find our hearts and walk out,” Digger said. “If we spread the word and the mine shuts down, we’ll be able to get more money!”

“Well,” Jack interjected, “we might end up there. Showing a united front will force Victor to realize we’re not a bunch of useless animals. And that’s a start.”

Gentleman Bill shook his head. “We’ve been talking about this for a long time, Jack. You do know things will get ugly if we push?”

“The first step will be a request,” Jack answered. “We won’t start with walking out; we’ll start with talking. Maybe Victor will listen.”

“Do you really think that’s possible?” Pete asked.

Jack shook his head. “No. I agree with Bill. The situation is bound to deteriorate. But the alternative is business as usual, a hell of a rotten option.” He looked into each man’s face. “If you or anyone else doesn’t want to be part of this, I understand. We’ll be threatening Victor’s profit, and he won’t take it well. Or quietly.”

“From here on out, we’ll have to watch our backs,” Gentleman Bill said.

“I think, as of this moment, we stay in groups. Two, three, or more. Never walk alone. That’s the whole point anyway. Banding together,” Jack said.

Digger’s eyes rounded, huge, but Jack didn’t miss the glimmer of excitement in them. Taking back control was heady stuff. “What about you, Jack? You live on your own.”

“Actually, I’m not worried about me. But I’m going to turn Mouse over to you guys and you’ll have to watch him, keep him at the Nugget Hotel. We might as well start before anything heats up. The kid has a way of doing whatever he wants, and I won’t see him get hurt. Ever.”

“We can meet at Sam’s tonight,” Pete said. “I’ll get Harley and a few others to come. They’ll miss their shift, but it’s worth every penny for them to be in on this.”

“Just keep it quiet,” Bill said. “No one but us.”

Digger and Pete nodded.

They all shook hands. Jack felt the ranch take the final slip away from him. Maybe his life, too. Yet his job, money, not even the ranch was worth selling his soul. He simply could not turn away. No more than he could have run from the Boarding House fire, although getting in the middle of it returned him to the worst day of his life.

Hiding wasn’t his way. Especially when it really mattered. The ranch was as good as gone. He hoped Buck would understand.

B
eth drifted across the alley, her face pale, drawn, her eyes burning and haunted. Milena’s heart sank. A spirit. Wherever she’d wandered, Beth had died. Or more likely, someone killed her. The girl was too gentle a being to survive a place like Jasper.

Perhaps Milena could have done something, but she’d been intent on fleeing the Boarding House. At the time, she believed her life depended on escape.

A tear slid down her cheek, for her inability to help Beth. “Forgive me, Sunshine.”

Beth approached the back of the clinic. Milena took a closer look. Although her eyes were haunted and her spirit waning, Beth did appear more solid than an apparition. The girl moved out of Milena’s sight. A door, in the back of the clinic, creaked. Spirits did not open and close doors. Not to enter a building.

Relief tingled through Milena. Beth must be alive. Then worry followed. Milena had never mistaken someone alive for a spirit. The girl’s will for life had withered to nothing.

Milena backed away from the window, wondering how long Beth had hidden in Ambrose’s supply room. He kept a lock on the door, stating the need to keep his medicines safe.

Medicines and the leftover shell of a girl.

Milena picked up the tray she’d piled with clean instruments and made her way through the room of women. Most of the men were gone, none hurt terribly and most anxious to return home, especially those with wives. Their spouses were not happy with a clinic full of fancy ladies also housing their husbands. Ambrose refused to allow any visitors in, citing the crowded space as enough reason. The doctor didn’t back down when one of the wives insisted he throw the ladies out. Instead, he’d shooed her from his doorstep.

“Here you are, Doctor.” Milena lowered the tray and sat it on the table next to Ambrose. He didn’t look up, but concentrated on changing Claire’s bandages.

“Are you in great pain?” Milena asked her.

“What do you think?” Claire sniped. When the doctor pulled at the bandage, she shrieked.

“Oh, for heaven’s very own sake, do stop dramatizing your injuries,” Suzanne said, turning away on the other bed.

“Bitch,” Claire threw out. Ambrose finished the unwrap. Milena watched and understood Claire’s cranky mood. Her skin blistered and oozed, thin blades of white streaking across her burns.

“And why is it you are still in bed, Suzanne?” Claire asked. “As I recall, once the fun began, you ran, fast as you’ve ever moved. Thank heavens no one got in your way; you might have flattened them. And I don’t recall as you have anything wrong with you other than a fat behind.”

Suzanne rolled over to face Claire. “Your wound has brought out the very worst in you, Claire. Your injury is nothing. You should have been in Atlanta when it burned to the ground. That was an event to bemoan. The Boarding House was quite lovely, but we all should have realized it would never last. Not in a town like this.” She flopped back over, away from them. “Not in any place where men are free to destroy.”

The doctor finished treating Claire in serious silence, no sign of his buoyant temperament. He nodded to Milena and she took the instruments back to clean them. She picked her way around ladies and plopped the tray down, dumping the instruments into a bucket of soapy suds. The doctor insisted this was the most sanitary way, according to his fine medical school, to keep instruments clean. He told Milena many didn’t believe in such cleansing details, but he did. He kept the entire clinic meticulously scrubbed and neat.