Promise of Tomorrow (12 page)

Twenty-two

Jack heaved the pickax. His muscles bunched as he pulled it to his shoulder and swung downward again with every bit of strength he could muster. The tight group of men around him worked like a machine, each man's cuts with pickax or shovel in perfect synchronization with the next man's. But Jack knew, even as his swing came down seconds before that of the man across from him, that it would never work.

“It's no use. We can't cut through,” someone shouted through the rain.

Jack's hands slipped on the wet handle, and he adjusted his grip before raising the tool for another plunge into the rocky slope. He flipped the pickax to the side with the point midswing, but even the point did little more than make an inch-deep indentation.

“Clear out! Clear out! It's going over.” The tight ball of men working on carving out another spillway to relieve the pressure of the water building behind the dam scattered.

Jack raised his head to see a sheen of water eat away at the dirt and rock that had been thrown up in the middle of the dam to increase its height.

“Jack!” Tom yanked on his sleeve and got him moving. When the two men stopped on the far end of the dam, the water had begun the slide over the top and dropped in a silvery sheet. “It's soaked through and won't hold much longer,” Tom hollered.

Jack jerked. “Warn them!”

Tom's hand held him firm. “It's been done. The line from here isn't working yet. They sent someone down to South Fork.”

Jack's mind churned. “I need to get to Johnstown.”

Tom faced him, the man's hands clenching his shoulders with a strength Jack would have never guessed him to possess. “Word is, roads are washed out. If you go out now, you could get caught in it.”

Even as Tom's words penetrated, the water sluicing over the dam grew in volume, like an insatiable beast that had tasted the sweetness of liberty and wanted more.

“I've got to go.”

Tom shook his head. “It's no use. They sent another boy down to South Fork just minutes ago and another man went to clear his family out. I let them have our horses.”

Tension grew in Jack's stomach, clenching it hard and churning the cold pancake he'd eaten into acid.

❧

“It seems to me you were rushed to get out of there. He is no doubt devastated and confused, perhaps even angry.”

Alaina stared out the window at the street and recognized the train depot. “Auntie, I thought we were headed back to the college.”

Aunt Jo's eyes twinkled. “So
you
thought.
If I were Alaina
, I thought to myself,
I'd want to head back to Johnstown as soon as possible and talk to my young man.
”

“But if I leave, Momma will be so unhappy.”

Aunt Jo's chin tilted to a stubborn angle. “Leave Charlotte to me.” The carriage pulled up in front of the station, and her aunt waited for the driver to offer his hand before descending. “Have your say with Jack and bring him and your mother with you back here.” Her eyes sparkled. “That will give me a chance to help your mother see reason. Maybe she'll even swallow her stubborn pride and move back here to live with me like I've offered a thousand times.”

Excitement and nervousness clawed at Alaina as she crossed the station and perused the length of the train.

“Looks like Mr. Pitcairn is traveling today.” Aunt Jo's long finger pointed. “That's his private car right there. Oh, but they're calling for boarding. Have a nice trip and come back whether Jack sees the light or not. Pittsburgh has some quite handsome single young men.”

Alaina waved to her aunt until the woman faded to a speck and the train's momentum made looking back a stomach-churning experience. Ash from the engine flew through the window and smeared on Alaina's dress when she brushed at it. She pushed the window up and settled in to work out what she would say, both to her mother and to Jack.

Jack.

An urgency to pray gripped her. Pray for whom? For Jack? Her heartbeat picked up speed, and she bowed her head and closed her eyes, but her mind blanked.
Lord?
Her mind filled with the view of the valley from the Lake Conemaugh Dam.
Lord, have mercy. I don't know what this means, but protect Momma and Jack, Frank and—

A raindrop splashed through an open window onto her hand, and Alaina wiped it away as a sickening dread filled her. Rain. The dam. All the rumors of the dam breaking and the water sweeping through the valley. Dread choked her throat. She prayed fervently for what seemed like hours and then raised her head to see the landscape blurred by gray rain. In places she glimpsed the high water pooling in lowlands. And all the time, she breathed the same prayer, the urgency not lessening, but her own fear growing until the tension in her body churned an ache in her head.

Twenty-three

Jack kept the horse at a gallop as much as possible during the fourteen-mile ride down to Johnstown from South Fork. The animal he'd borrowed in South Fork seemed game for the journey and displayed fine spirit despite the drizzle, raging water, and washed-out roads.

At places along the route, Jack had to stop and pick his way over a washout, but the horse never hesitated when Jack dug his heels deep in the animal's sides. Just as the valley came into view and the terrain flattened, the horse's strides became more sure, but a deep-throated rumble brought Jack's attention around. He spurred the animal, sure he knew what danger caused the sound. The water would have cut through by now.

Jack crossed the bridge into Johnstown when another rumble swelled through the air. He dared a glance over his left shoulder and saw a black mist and a yellow wall of water. His heart jumped and pounded. Cold sweat popped up along his back and forehead. He pulled the horse up hard and vaulted to the ground. Turning, he gave the animal a hard smack on the rump, and it took off.

Jack flung open the door of a tall building and raced up the steps. His mind absorbed details as he went. The banister and rails, the doors with numbers lining the hall. A hotel. As he raced up the second flight of steps, he heard voices, frantic and high-pitched, underscored by the deeper tones of a man's voice. And over that a deep rumbling that built into a deafening roar. A gust of wind sucked up the steps. Jack's legs burned.

On the third-floor landing, he saw a man at the window and a huddle of people crouching in a corner. Shadows held the people captive, but the deafening roar, growing louder by the second, had etched lines of terror in their faces.

“Is there an attic?” he yelled above the roar.

The man at the window ran toward them, arms waving. “Get up the steps. All the way up!”

As one, the group rose. Jack's eyes darted around the room, but he saw no stairway until the man flung open a narrow door to reveal an equally narrow flight of steps. The house shuddered hard. Water shot through the glass of the windows, sending shards across the room as water poured through the new opening. Beneath their feet, the floor rose like a raft, carrying them to the ceiling. Jack crouched and lay flat to avoid becoming crushed against the ceiling. He rolled over, and the floor disintegrated beneath him. Screams and shouts rent the air around him as people were set adrift in the raging, swirling waters.

Jack struck out. He gasped at the cold water, spat at the wetness invading his nostrils and pushing into his mouth. More cries and screams came to his ears, moans, all sifted through the roar and crash of water, the tearing of wood and rip of nails popping. Lifting and tumbling, the water swelled and churned until the building itself simply disappeared. Jack fought the pull of the undercurrent, shocked to see the menacing pewter of the sky.

A hard shove brought pain to his shoulder. Water filled his ears, and something grabbed his leg. A hand? He bent in two to feel for whatever it might be, but the grip released. A huge piece of debris barreled toward him, a man and woman huddled together. Jack saw the woman's mouth open. . .then she was gone. The water rolled him. When he braced his body, he sank lower, so he relaxed, exhausted. His hand touched something hard, and he squeezed his eyes shut to clear water. A board floated away and then shot back toward him, taunting him with its nearness.

He moved that direction, arms leaden, legs limp. Every movement brought him closer to the board. The board shifted direction and flowed away as if sucked by a gaping mouth toward a distant point. With the last bit of strength he could muster, he made a grab for the piece of wood as it began to twist away again. Jagged pain raced up his arms as his hands slid over the rough wood and he pulled himself partially onto the surface.

Jack's nerves burned. He floated, pulled by the current. Afraid to raise his head and see more terrible sights, he knew the sounds were enough.

When he'd rested and his vision cleared, he lifted his head to take in his surroundings. Rooftops. Boards. A dead horse. As he watched, a tall building, of which only the top floor was visible, swayed and plunged beneath the surface. He began to paddle toward the distant mountain.

“People are more important than things.”
Through a fog of exhausted uncaring, he saw Alaina's smile. The smile dimmed into a frown and her arms stretched out.
“You can do it, Jack.”

The icy water began to work its brand of paralysis. Moving became more difficult. Jack clung to the words he heard in his mind, Alaina's image having long faded. Something moved around his legs. Water began to swirl around his body and pull at him. He tightened his hold on the board.

Oh, God
,
was all he had time for before another wave engulfed him.

❧

“What is it? Why have we stopped?” Alaina put the questions to the conductor.

“Everything is fine, I'm sure, miss. We'll move along shortly.”

Left with little to do but wait, Alaina watched the muddy, swollen river rush by not far from where they sat.

A woman farther up in the car gasped, and the man behind her shot from his seat and pushed his face against the window. His expletive accompanied a man surging into view on the swift river, clinging to a board. More debris swirled and tossed in the angry waters, and another person shot by.

Everyone on the train seemed frozen to the spot. Then the men in Alaina's car seemed to come alive all at once. More exclamations, more shuffling of feet, then they started getting off, one by one. The women hovered at the windows and watched in terror as a house crashed into a clot of debris.

Within minutes the men had found makeshift poles or anchored each other in an effort to catch people. A young man cinched a cord around his waist and struck out toward the house caught in the trees. Alaina watched the man's struggle with bated breath. He twisted and turned every which way, at last arriving at the shattered house. When he emerged, he held something close.

“He's got a baby!” one of the women next to Alaina exclaimed.

“Where is this coming from?” A woman threw the question out to no one in particular.

Alaina collected the words, then spoke them out loud, her lips dry and her eyes burning. “Johnstown. It's from Johnstown. The dam must have broken.”

“True. There's too much water for it to be a simple flood,” someone else replied.

“Do you know someone from there?” a dark-haired woman asked the question of Alaina.

“My mother and fian—” Her voice broke. “Fiancé are there.”

“Oh, how terrible for you.”

Genuine sympathy oozed from the woman and broke down every ounce of Alaina's composure. Her legs became weak, and she folded herself onto the seat, buried her face, and allowed the sobs she'd held back to break free. Jack's expression at the train station filled her mind and made her despair that much harder to bear.

Momma
.
Jack. Missy and Sam.

The list of names marched across her mind and further deepened the well of her cries. She felt the pressure of two arms cradle her close and cared not who it was who offered the comfort. She clung to the person as if she herself had been set adrift in the wildly raging river.

“Look!” she heard one of the women say.

The person holding her tensed, and Alaina could feel her benefactor's body shift position, though her arms remained around her. Alaina kept her eyes closed.

“He's going back.”

“No!”

Alaina raised her head then, and the raven-haired woman smiled down at her and stroked her cheek. Then she, too, rose and crossed to the windows.

“He is going back.”

“One of us should tend that baby.”

“There's a new mother in the next car. Perhaps she could care for the wee one.”

The conversation between the women swirled around Alaina. She felt detached and afraid. A deep coldness clenched down on her spine and made her shiver, and still they talked.

“He's bringing out someone else.”

“He must be exhausted.”

“Oh, the child won't be all alone then. Thank the Good Lord.”

She never understood where the strength to rise came from or what drew her to the window, but when she saw the rescued woman come closer, carried by one of the men, her dress little more than rags around her, Alaina felt the shock shedding from her mind and body. She took a step back as the man carrying the woman answered the frantic waving of her fellow passengers and brought the rescued woman on board. She sucked in a breath and went to the place where the man settled the shivering, wet form onto a seat. “Mrs. Newton!” Alaina knelt, her skirts billowing around her.

The woman's gaze landed on her, dull and unfocused.

“You know her. That's good. Keep talking to her while we get her warm.” Alaina's benevolent companion turned away and raised her voice to be heard. “I need any spare clothing you can offer. Hurry now! Someone run over and check on the babe. The news will help her.”

Alaina remained where she was and took the cold, pale hand in her own. “I'm the daughter of your dressmaker, Mrs. Newton. I remember you well. My mother worked from Heiser's store.”

Mrs. Newton's pale eyes ran over Alaina's face. She blinked slowly, and a shiver shook her slender form. “It's all gone,” she whispered.

Alaina strained to hear the words and swallowed as comprehension dawned.
All gone?
She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and gulped.
All. Gone. Momma? Jack?

She never knew if she fell back or was pushed aside as the women began to bundle the woman in the spare clothing, but as Alaina regained her balance and rose to her feet, she knew she could not stay, stranded in Sang Hollow, four miles from Johnstown. Determination stiffened her spine, and she slipped off the car and into the rain.