Carrie did not hesitate. An accident in the mines could turn deadly within seconds. Already the message had needed time to travel to Cothaire. “Baricoat, have Mrs. Ford make plenty of coffee and sandwiches. Get any medical supplies you can gather quickly, as well as blankets. Send every available footman to the mine to assist.”
“I will.” The butler ran out the door as quickly as he had entered.
She started to follow, but Jacob halted her by grasping her arm.
“Wait here,” he said.
“I am not sitting at home while others are rescuing the men.”
He grasped her by the shoulders. “Carrie, please. I don’t want you in danger.”
“I won’t be.” She put her hands over his and gazed deep into his eyes where the thick walls of pain had concealed so much. “But those families need someone beside them to bolster their hope.”
“There may not be any hope.”
“There is always hope. I believe you can find a way to rescue the men in the mine.”
His hand cupped her cheek as he breathed her name. “Such faith you have in me, even after what I just told you.”
“What you just told me could not change how I feel about you. Nothing could.” She gave him a push toward the door. “Go,” she urged. “We will follow you.”
* * *
Everyone in the mining village, save for the men who were in the shafts, was gathered around the mine entrance when Carrie drew Marmalade to a stop by the engine house. She looked from the fearful faces to the great wooden beam that hung motionless above her head.
She slid out of the saddle and tied her horse’s reins to the rail on the steps. Hearing the rattle of the wagon from Cothaire, she motioned for the driver to bring the load of food and supplies to where she stood.
Some of the villagers turned to watch the wagon arrive. She waved to them to help unload it. She began lifting out the few baskets of food the kitchen had been able to prepare before the wagon left. More food and supplies would follow. As she worked, her eyes searched the crowd by the mine entrance.
Where was Jacob? She had thought he would be in the very center, working out a plan to rescue those underground. Rushing up the steps, she threw open the door of the engine house.
“Jacob?” she called. “Pym?”
Neither man answered. Where were they? She had assumed Pym would be working on the beam engine, even if Jacob was busy elsewhere.
What was going on?
“Lady Caroline?” asked a deep voice from behind her.
She whirled to Yelland, the mine captain. “Where are they? Lord Warrick and Pym?”
“I don’t know where Pym is, but Lord Warrick has gone into the mine to bring up the men.” Yelland’s face was as white as the falling snow. “I warned him not to go, but he would not be halted.”
Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, but she locked them in place. Jacob was determined no one else he was responsible for would be killed. So determined he was ready to turn his back on love to punish himself for what he believed were his mistakes. She should have known he would not remain outside the mine when miners were in danger.
She wanted to give chase, but she would be a liability in the mine. She had no choice but to wait.
“What happened?” she asked.
“As far as we know from the men who were closest to the cave-in, one of the supports failed, and the ceiling collapsed. At least a half dozen men are on the other side of the fallen rock.” He glanced up at the beam and gulped. “If they are alive, they will drown as soon as water fills the shaft.”
“Get the beam engine running!”
“I am not sure how.”
“Then find Pym! Surely he did not go into the mine, too.”
Yelland shook his head. “He is too much of a coward to step a toe in the mine. That is why he works here.”
“Find him!” She pushed past him and hurried to where women were waiting by the wagon. Without greeting them, she said, “Open the baskets and put the food out.”
“Where would you like it, my lady?” asked one woman whose face was stained with salt from her tears.
“Do you have tables you can bring outside?”
When heads nodded, she said, “Bring them. We can set up the food on them. That way, when someone is hungry, they can eat while watching the rescue.”
“If there is one,” murmured one of the women.
Carrie restrained herself from scolding the woman when her words brought muffled sobs from others. Tears seared her eyes, too, but she was not ready to give up hope. Not yet, when her prayers had a chance to be answered.
Climbing into the wagon, she handed out the baskets she could not reach from the ground. The footmen carried other supplies closer to the mine entrance so they would be there when the first men were brought out. Around her, she heard soft fragments of prayers. When Raymond arrived, and she knew he would come as soon as he heard of the cave-in, he would comfort the frightened families.
“...more orphans,” one woman said as she bowed her head by the wagon. “God, you know we don’t need more orphans.”
Another woman put an arm around the woman’s shoulder and said, “There is no confirmation anyone is dead. The mines are in better shape than they were after the old baron gave up on them and us. Things have changed. We won’t need help from a pair of old prattling cats again now that we have Lord Warrick—”
“Who may not come out alive,” groaned the first woman. “He has done so much, and now he may be gone.”
Carrie brushed tears from her eyes. Sending up another prayer for Jacob’s safety along with the trapped men’s and the other rescuers’, she climbed out of the wagon. Another slowed behind the one from Cothaire.
For an irrational moment, she thought the silhouette of the driver belonged to Jacob and he was safe; then she realized the man holding the reins was his brother, Emery.
“Can your men unload these supplies, Lady Caroline?” he yelled as he jumped down. “I need to see where Jake wants help. Where is he?”
“In the mine.”
The curse his brother snarled would have shocked her under other circumstances, but she understood his dismay.
“Why would he do something so chuckle-headed?” he demanded.
“He wants to save the miners.”
“There are plenty of experienced miners to do that.”
She sighed as she began unloading heavy baskets of food and handing them to the women. “But Jacob feels it is his duty to protect everyone as he could not protect Miss Greene in the carriage accident.”
Mr. Warrick spat, “Absurd! The accident was not Jacob’s fault.”
“I agree. He said there was ice on the road.”
He shook his head. “No! That is not what I mean.” He dropped his face into his hands. “I should have told him the truth before, but I was afraid he would shut me out of his life as Uncle Maban did our father. Now he could die thinking he cost Miss Greene her life when it was my fault.”
“Your fault?” She pressed a basket into another woman’s hand, then looked at Mr. Warrick. “You caused the accident? But you did not get there until after Miss Greene was dead. Jacob told me that himself.”
“Because he doesn’t remember what happened.” He raised his head, tears running down his face. “I was testing out a new team of horses I had borrowed from a breeder, and I wanted to see how fast they could go. I had no idea anyone else was on the road. When I came around the corner, my carriage clipped the rear wheel of his. The collision threw both vehicles. I was on the inside of the hill, so my carriage struck bushes and stones. Jacob and Miss Greene were on the outer edge, and their carriage careened over the hill. I can still hear the horrible sounds it made as it broke apart.”
“He will blame himself for not reacting fast enough.”
“He could not have done anything differently. Miss Greene had the reins.” He took a shuddering breath before going on. “My lady, I know he has forgotten so much because of the injury he sustained to his skull. He does not remember Miss Greene insisted he offer her marriage. When he said he did not love her as a husband should a wife, she rushed away and got into his carriage. He gave chase because he feared she would hurt herself. He jumped in, but she refused to relinquish the reins.” He sighed. “Several people witnessed it.”
“Why didn’t you tell Jacob that?”
He quaked with sobs before he said, “He believes they were betrothed and that he was happy about it. Why take that good memory from him?”
“He needs to know the truth.”
“I know, but I don’t know if I am strong enough to tell him.”
She put her hand on his arm. “You are Jacob’s brother, and you were strong enough to come to him and admit you needed his help.” When he looked up, astonished, she added, “He told me about your circumstances, but swore me to secrecy. Mr. Warrick, only a strong man can admit he is a failure and seek to remake his life.”
“You are kind, but...”
“Once Jacob and the other men are safe, let me take you to my brother. Raymond is an expert on seeking forgiveness and God’s grace.”
For a moment, he did nothing; then he nodded.
Carrie did not hear him if he spoke further, because she saw a familiar form walking toward them.
“Pym!” she cried as she ran to Jacob’s assistant. When she reached him, she said, “You must get the beam engine started.”
“I thought Lord Warrick would have by now when the men in the mine—”
“He has gone to rescue them! He must have assumed you would get the pumps going while he brought the survivors up.”
“Lord Warrick went into the mine?” Pym’s face lost every bit of color. “Why would he do that? He could die.”
“I know.” She bit her lip to keep her sobs from escaping.
“If he dies, the mine will close.” Pym looked as if he were going to be ill. “We will lose our jobs.”
Before she could say it was silly to worry about a job when men needed to escape the mine, Pym ran into the building. The door slammed in his wake. She hoped he could get the engine running again. If he did not, every man in that mine, including Jacob, was doomed.
* * *
“There.”
The man behind Jacob held the lantern higher. In front of them, the shaft ended in a death fall of stone. Men were tearing away the rocks, but slowly. He knew they could not go faster because moving the wrong rock could bring down more.
He coughed in the fetid air and stepped forward. Something crunched under his feet. A discarded pasty crust. He started to move through the narrow tunnel, then froze as a glitter caught the lantern’s light.
He moaned. Water seeped between him and the trapped miners. If Pym did not get the steam engine pumping again soon, the men would drown, along with their rescuers. The climb up would take longer than the rate water was rising. Pym had made amazing repairs before. Please, God, guide him to make another and save these men’s lives.
He went to work beside the miners, moving stones until his hands bled. Beneath his feet, water rose first over the soles of his boots, then over his toes. He tried to pay it no attention as he shifted rocks.
When the water reached his knees, he ordered the shorter men up the shaft. They soon would not be able to move in the deep water.
He fought the weight of the flood as he yanked another stone. Smaller stones tumbled, one striking his right foot. Pain burst though him, but he ignored it as light burst past the wall. He cheered with the miners beside him at the sight of a lantern being held up on the other side.
Agony sliced up his right leg as he stood on tiptoe to grasp the pair of hands stretching through the opening. He wobbled and struck the pile of stones, sending more pain from his knee along his leg, but he caught the hands and held on.
Around him, the miners pulled down more of the wall, releasing water. It rose faster and faster.
Jacob pulled the man through as soon as the opening was large enough. The miners beside him seized other hands and let the water’s current help them pull the men out. He gripped another pair of hands as men began scrambling away from the rising torrent. Behind him, shouts came to get out while it was still possible.
“I am the last one, my lord,” gasped a man as Jacob dragged him over the stones and into the now waist-deep water.
“Are you sure?”
“Aye. There were six of us, and we drew lots to see who would go first if someone freed us. I was number six.”
“Go!” He pushed the man ahead of him and half swam toward where the shaft rose.
The man ran. Jacob tried to as well, but his first step on his right foot sent him to his knees. He pushed his head above water and caught outcroppings on the side of the wall to pull himself forward. A second try told him that his right leg would not support him. He pushed his hands against the wall and tried hopping on his left foot up the tunnel.
Ahead of him, sounds faded. He could not keep up with the fleeing miners. Light remained strong, and he saw a lantern someone had left behind to mark the way. He picked it up. As he tried to straighten, he wobbled and struck the wall. Dirt sprayed on him. An ominous rumble came from the tunnel.
He collapsed to the floor, putting his arms over his head. Trying to make himself as small as possible, he choked on the dirt flying through the air as rock and wood collapsed around him. Light vanished, and his thoughts faded. His last one was of Carrie, and how, no matter how he had tried, he could not protect her from a broken heart at his death.
“Forgive me,” he whispered before darkness dropped around him.
* * *
Every inch of him hurt.
Jacob struggled to open his eyes, but he was unsure if he should. He did not want to see Virginia’s broken form on the ground. So close, but too far away for him to touch.
Not looking would not change anything. He forced his eyes open and stared with incredulity at light blue eyes searching his face. Light blue? His brother’s eyes were brown. It was supposed to be Emery leaning over him, urging him to hold on to his senses.
But it wasn’t.
“Carrie,” he whispered, wanting to believe his blurred vision. “Carrie, is it you?”
Something cool settled on his forehead, but her fingers were warm as they brushed his skin, pushing back his hair. “Hush. Lie still. You have a badly bruised foot and knee. Praise God nothing was broken.”
“I am alive?”
She put her hand over his heart and smiled. “If this thump-thump-thump is any sign, I would say you are among the living.”
It took almost all his strength, but he raised his own hand to place it over hers. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I thought I was going to die without ever telling you how sorry I am.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do, but...” He closed his eyes when the room began to spin around him. When he opened them again, Carrie still stood beside him. “How did I get out?”
“Yelland went to find you when the other men emerged and you didn’t.”
“Yelland risked his life to save me?”
“He insisted he go instead of the other men who volunteered.”
“Who volunteered? I want to make sure I thank them.”
She smiled gently as she handed him his spectacles. “They all did.”
“All?”
“Every man except Pym, who managed to get the beam engine started before you drowned.” She moved away from the bed.
For the first time, as he put on his spectacles, he realized he did not recognize where he was. The walls were covered in dark red silk to match the curtains on an elegant tester bed. Tall windows gave him a view of the gray sky and the snow falling from it.
Carrie put another cool cloth on his head. “Your brother is working to get the shafts pumped out, and he agreed you should come to Cothaire because Mrs. Ford’s stillroom has many remedies not available at Warrick Hall.” She smiled gently. “You should rest.”
He caught her hand. “Stay, Carrie. Stay and talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Anything.”
“I am not leaving.” She set a chair by the bed and sat. “Shall we talk about the night Virginia Greene died?”
“But we already spoke of what happened.”
“No, we spoke of what you thought happened.” She explained what Emery had told her.
He was stunned that Virginia had demanded he propose. He was even more taken aback when Carrie shared the rest of what his brother had told her. Why had his brother waited so long to reveal the truth?
As if he had asked aloud, Carrie said, “Your brother did not want to chance repeating your father’s and your uncle’s mistake of letting bitterness come between them. He wanted to prevent you two from being driven apart for the rest of your lives.”
“So it truly was an accident,” he said softly.
“Yes. It has troubled your brother as much as it has you. Only when he thought you would die without knowing the truth, he broke his silence.” She removed the cloth from his forehead and replaced it with another, easing the pain. “I suggested Mr. Warrick speak with Raymond because he wonders if you will be able to forgive him for the accident or his silence.”
“Of course I forgive him. He did not mean for it to happen. Why would he think I would withhold forgiveness from him?”
She folded his hand between hers. “Because he saw how you withheld it from yourself.”
He could not argue with her when she was right. Since the accident, he had been furious with himself. He thanked God for learning the truth, and he knew he had more lessons to learn, including how to offer and receive forgiveness.
You know the way already. The way out of darkness is going toward light, toward love.
The voice was not his own, but it came from within his heart. God was using his heart to remind him of what he should know. For the first time, he believed—truly and deeply believed—he might escape the prison of sorrow where he had been incarcerated since the tragic night.
Go toward love.
That was advice he would gladly follow, but he had no chance as the door opened and an excited shout rang through the room and through his aching skull.
“Quietly, Gil,” Carrie said as the little boy and the nursery maid came in with Joy. “Jacob is hurt, and he needs quiet.” She took Joy from the maid, then looked at him. “The children chanced to see you being carried into the house, and they were frightened.”
“Not my Gil.” He pushed himself up to sit. The room whirled again, and he was glad to lean on the plump pillow Carrie put behind him after setting Joy on the rug by the bed. Making his voice light, he added, “My Gil is not scared of anything.”
“Gil brave,” announced the little boy, his thin chest jutting out.
“Ac-oob!” The baby tugged on the covers as she pulled herself to her feet.
Carrie picked her up so Joy could see him.
“Ac-oob!” She waved her hands at him.
“One kiss, Joy.” Carrie slanted the little girl toward him.
He made a buzzing kiss on her cheek, and Joy giggled and repeated his name. He doubted he ever would tire of hearing her say it. Taking the baby, he set her on one side of him, then held his breath to keep from groaning as Gil bounced to sit on his other side.
“My lady?” came Baricoat’s voice from the doorway. “What do you wish me to do with him?”
Jacob was about to ask who “he” was, but Carrie said, “Show Mr. Pym up. Tell him he cannot stay more than five minutes.”
The butler hurried away to do as she wished.
“Pym is here?” Jacob asked.
“Yes. He refused to leave. He says he has to talk to you.”
When Pym entered the room, he looked as out of place as a rabbit in a chicken coop. He stepped forward, then halted and whipped his cap off his head before bowing toward Carrie.
“Thank you, my lady,” the short man said.
She held up her hand with her five fingers extended.
Pym gulped. “I came to tell you I am sorry, my lord. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”
“What are you talking about? Get to the point, man.” He did not try to curb his impatience.
“Yes, my lord. I... That is, the troubles with the beam engine... I mean...” He took a deep breath, then said in a rush, “They are my fault. I would loosen a bolt or open a valve so it would stop running.”
“But why, Pym?” he asked, too surprised to say more.
The man worried the brim of his cap and stared at his feet. “The old baron got angry with me when I asked for new equipment because the engine was not pumping out the deeper shafts. He told me to get out.”
“My uncle dismissed you?”
“Yes, but then those men were killed, and he needed someone to watch over the beam engine, so he gave me back my position.” He raised his head and met Jacob’s eyes. “Then you came, my lord. You know as much about keeping the equipment running as I do. Maybe more, once you got the new steam engine.”
“So,” Carrie whispered, “you thought Lord Warrick would dismiss you as his uncle had.”
“Aye, but I figured if he thought he needed me to keep the engine running, I would keep my position.”
“No wonder you always knew what was wrong and could fix it fast.” He frowned, then winced at the pain. “Why did you take so long to repair the engine when we almost had a riot because the miners grew so impatient?”
“That wasn’t me. She broke on her own. Like today.” He sighed. “You don’t need to dismiss me, my lord. I will leave all quiet and like. I won’t come back.”
Jacob said, “That will not be necessary. Everyone makes mistakes, Pym. Sometimes we are blessed, and nobody else is hurt. Other times, we pay the price of suffering regret for the rest of our days.”
“You mean I can stay?”
“As long as there are no more troubles with the engines than they cause by themselves.”
Pym smiled more broadly than Jacob had ever seen, and he realized the man had been terrified of being dismissed the whole time Jacob had known him. He kept thanking Jacob until Carrie lifted her hand with her forefinger raised. Bobbing his head, he backed out of the room.
Jacob breathed a sigh of relief when the man left. His head rang from Pym’s babble. “He never said much, and now he is chatting like a pair of old cats. I swear he could out-talk even the Misses Winwood.”
“Boat!” said Gil with a smile.
“No,” he began, “it is too cold to—”
“Oh, by the stars!” Carrie looked at him, her eyes wide.
“What is it?”
“I think I know who put the children in the boat.”
“Boat,” echoed Gil as Joy tried to copy the word.
He sat straighter, even though pain lashed through his head. “You do? How?”
“Old cats! I heard two women talking about orphans and how old cats came to their rescue. I didn’t have a chance to think about it because your brother arrived then, but hearing you say it again...” She sank to the chair. “Gil often says ‘boat’ when he sees the Winwood sisters. I think the women by the mine were talking about them taking care of some orphans.”
“But it makes no sense, Carrie. I have seen the Winwood sisters with the children. Why would anyone who loves those children put them in a boat and push them out to sea?”
“That is what we need to find out.” She glanced at the snow falling past the window. “It is too late tonight, but in the morning.”
“On Christmas Eve?”
“What a Christmas gift it will be for the children’s parents! They will be happy to have the children back. We...” Her voice broke when she could no longer pretend, even to herself, that she could bear the idea of returning Gil and Joy to their families.
She saw her pain reflected in Jacob’s eyes. When he held out his arms, she went into them, leaning across his chest as she wept.