CHAPTER18
Martin hated this day. Every year when it rolled around, he tried to keep himself busy or even drown himself in a bottle. But this year, he couldn’t get drunk. It would upset Blanche and he couldn’t disappoint her.
All day, he’d stayed in the barn away from the house, doing his best to avoid her and even Jakob.
It was best if he was alone, though the guilt ate at him like a lung sickness, and some days, he thought it would be better if he died. Then he would not have to live thinking about all the people who were not here because of him.
If only he’d been stronger and more demanding. If only the foreman would have listened to him. But those were wishes that could be changed.
Blanche waltzed into the barn and smiled at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning stalls,” he said as he watched her go to Sweetie and give her a carrot. The woman was obsessed with her new horse, and it made him feel so good that he’d given her a gift she really wanted.
“Why are you so quiet today?” she finally asked. “I know something is wrong because normally you bounce in and out of the house, eating the cookies I’m baking or just coming in and kissing me. But you’ve not come in today.”
He didn’t want her sympathy. He didn’t want to gaze at her and see the pity in her eyes. That’s not want he wanted or needed. He just wanted peace. A peace to remember that this was the day his life changed forever.
This was the day the mine collapsed, killing over twenty people. Friends, family members, and even some of his cousins. This was the day he ran from the crashing walls and dust as fast as his feet would carry him.
“I’m not going away until you tell me,” she said.
“I have no doubt,” he replied, knowing she could be stubborn and persistent.
He hadn’t gone to the cemetery today, and usually at some point, he put flowers on his parents’ grave.
“I’ll saddle Sweetie and we’ll go for a ride,” he told her, his heart heavy.
Running into the house, she soon returned. But this time she wasn’t wearing britches, but rather a skirt she had made into a riding skirt. She had taken one of her dresses and sewn the skirt into two big pant legs, so when she stood, it looked like a dress. Hopefully, Jakob would approve.
Though Martin didn’t really care. Where they were going, it was doubtful anyone would see them.
“I’m ready,” she said, running into the barn breathless, her long auburn hair flying behind her, her emerald eyes twitching with delight.
As much as he liked seeing her so happy, he didn’t want to spoil their ride, and yet he felt it was time she learned the truth about him. Not that he wanted to tell her, but there were days when he couldn’t put the past out of his mind. And today was that kind of day.
She stepped into the saddle, and he climbed onto his horse.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he said and they rode along silently.
“What a beautiful day,” she said, raising her face to the sun.
And it was. It was perfect with clear blue skies, a light cool breeze, and the sun shining brightly. Only his soul was dark and morbid on this day.
“Yes,” he finally said. When he felt like this, he was never talkative and she seemed to sense from him that he didn’t want to speak but rather ride.
They rode down the road almost to town. Just before they reached Treasure Falls, he turned down the lane to the cemetery. Sweetie followed him and soon he could see the sign, Treasure Falls Graveyard.
Blanche didn’t say a word as they wound through the grave markers until he saw the one he wanted.
Made from a big rock, his parents’ names were carved in the stone. Tears welled in his eyes, and he missed them as much today as he had all those years ago.
“Your parents,” she said with a gasp. “They died on this day.”
He stepped down from his saddle and then turned to help Blanche down from her horse. Together they walked up to the grave and he laid out the flowers he’d brought – wildflowers he’d picked earlier in the day.
“Yes,” he said softly. “The mine accident occurred this day and they perished inside the mine. They died together. We found their bodies holding one another and that’s how we buried them.”
A special casket had been made to hold both bodies. He and his brothers had not had the heart to break them apart, so this was how they would spend eternity. In each other’s arms.
“What happened,” she asked quietly.
The wind blew a soft breeze through the cemetery.
“Two weeks before the mine collapse, I noticed there was a new crack that ran from the floor of the mine to the ceiling. At the time, it was my first year working in the mine shaft. I said something to my father, who told me to go to the foreman. That I was now an employee and I should be reporting to the right person.”
Oh God, how he wished he’d made his father go with him to see what he found. That was probably his biggest regret. If his papa had seen the crack, then he would have immediately had them put in supports to keep the walls from crumbling. If only the foreman had given him some attention, but he just thought he was a young kid. The owner’s son who didn’t know shit.
“What did you do?” she asked.
He sighed when he thought about how the foreman treated him. “When I went to him, he laughed and said that crack had been there for years. It was nothing. Told me if I was going to be a miner, I needed to learn not to be so afraid.”
“What happened,” Blanche said, coming over and touching him on the arm as he stared down at the graves.
“Once a month, my parents came down to the mine to thank the miners for their hard work. My mother would bring them something sweet she made. It was their way of being close to the workers. Papa hated it when mother went into the mine with him and asked her to wait outside, but on that morning, she told him no. She was going in with him. Why she did this, I will never understand. But she went in with Papa.”
A hawk flew overhead calling out its cry, searching the land for rodents.
“Where were you that morning?”
“Working in the mine. I got a huge splinter in my finger. More like a small stick. The foreman insisted I go up and let the doctor remove the splinter and bandage the wound to keep out infection. He laughed and said my papa would never forgive him if I lost a finger or a hand because he made me keep working.
“I made it ten yards beyond the crack when I heard the rumble. I started to run toward the inside, screaming for everyone to get out. When the crack widened and went all the way down the walls. The beams could not support the shifting rock and from the back forward the main tunnel began to collapse.”
He closed his eyes, the memory of that sound almost like the emptiness that filled his soul as he thought about that day.
“Did anyone get out?”