Twin of Ice (Montgomery/Taggert 6)
Jacob looked at Kane for a long time. “All right, what do you want?”
“If the men need inspectors to protect them from themselves, I want inspectors, and I want the kids out of the mines.”
“But the children’s small bodies can do things that the adults can’t!” Jacob protested.
Kane merely gave him a look and went on to the next point, trying to remember everything that Houston had told him about the problems in the mines. Jacob protested every aspect of Kane’s complaints; from libraries, “reading just makes them discontented”; to church services, “and pay preachers for every religion? We’d have religious wars if we tried to make them all go to the same service”; to better housing, to which Jacob said that the miners living in the shacks were really healthier because of all the fresh air coming through the cracks in the walls.
They talked and argued through the afternoon, with Jacob constantly refilling Kane’s wineglass. By about four o’clock, Kane’s words began to slur and his head rested against his chest. When he finally nodded off to sleep in the midst of telling Jacob that perhaps unions weren’t as bad as Jacob seemed to think, the older man stood and looked down at Kane’s big body sprawled in the chair.
“If I’d had a son like you, I could have conquered the world,” he murmured before leaving the room and sending a servant for a blanket to cover Kane.
It was full night when Kane woke, stiff and sore from sleeping in the chair, and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. The room was dim, but on the table he could make out the outline of a cloth-wrapped package and knew without a doubt that the package contained sandwiches.
With a smile, he stuffed the food into his pocket and left the house. Somehow, he felt lighter than he had in years, and as he rode back to the mine, he felt new hope that from now on his life was going to be different.
At the mine, Reed Westfield, Leander’s attorney father, was just entering the elevator to go back into the tunnel to continue the rescue operation. Kane caught the man with Reed by the collar. “Go get somethin’ to eat. I’ll go on this trip.”
As the machinery started, Kane told Reed a quick story of how all that Jacob Fenton owned was legally Kane’s.
“I don’t want that hangin’ over the man’s head any longer, and I don’t need the money. I want you to draw me up a paper sayin’ that I turn everything over to him and whoever he wants to leave it to, and I want it done soon because the old man is dyin’.”
Reed looked at Kane through weary eyes and nodded. “I have an office full of clerks with nothing much to do. Is tomorrow morning soon enough?”
Kane did no more than nod because, as they reached deeper into the mine, his face contorted at the smell.
Chapter 30
On the third day after the explosion, a total of forty-eight bodies had been taken from inside the mine, and seven were still unaccounted for. In the afternoon of the second day, four bodies had been found on their knees, their hands cupped over their mouths. They’d survived the major explosion, but the afterdamp, the gases, had killed them.
In town, the businesses were draped with black and flags were flown at half-mast. As the hearses drove through the streets in an unending stream, the people walked about with bare, bowed heads.
The fiancé of Sarah Oakley had been killed as he walked home from helping with the rescue of the miners. Too tired to watch where he was going, or to be aware of his surroundings, he didn’t see or hear the train before it overtook him, killing him instantly.
Leander and Kane, with help from Edan, had demanded, and received, the promise of a rescue station to be built on land that had been donated by Jacob Fenton. No one dared say so but everyone was of the opinion that Kane had gone to Fenton’s house and demanded the gift of the land.
Houston spent the day attending funerals and trying to comfort widows and seeing that children had enough to eat.
“I think this is what you want,” Reed Westfield said, handing Kane a piece of paper as they stood before the mine entrance. “After this is settled, we can draw up a longer form, but I believe that should hold up in court.”
Kane scanned the document and quickly saw that it said that he gave all rights to the holdings of the Fentons to the trust of Jacob Fenton, to dispose of however he wished.
“If you’ll sign it, I’ll witness it and file it. I have a copy here that you can give Fenton.”
Kane smiled at Reed. “Thanks,” he said, as he took the fountain pen from Reed and signed the paper. He held the copy up. “I think I’ll take this to him right now. Maybe it’ll make up to him for parting with that land, and I might mention that he ought to start a program to train men in mine rescue.”
Reed returned Kane’s grin. “I think the man might have remained richer before you gave him the rights to his property.”
As Kane rode down the hill toward Chandler, he looked about the camp and thought of the horror of the last few days. There was still much to do, and he had some ideas about how to prevent future explosions and how to act if there were more disasters. He planned to talk to Edan about his ideas, and Leander would be a good one, too, and even Fenton. When Kane thought of Jacob’s approaching death, he felt some sadness. After all, he had grown up seeing the man most of his life until he was eighteen. And now, the owner of the mines would be Zachary, after Marc, that is. Somehow, Kane thought, everyone seemed to forget Marc.
As he rode up the drive to the old Fenton house, he saw that the front door was standing open. The jamb had been repaired from where he’d kicked it in the day before and the glass replaced, but now it was wide open.
He dismounted, and called into the house as he entered, but there was no answer. Jacob’s office was at the back of the house, and Kane clearly remembered that the last time he’d been in this room was when Jacob had thrown him out for wanting to marry Pam. As he put the paper on the desk, he wondered how different his life would have been if he’d married Pam and not had the opportunity to make his own fortune. For one thing, he wouldn’t be married to Houston.
With that thought, he again wondered if Houston would have married him if he hadn’t had a few million in the bank.
He called out again, but there was still no answer so he started to leave the house through the kitchen, a way that was very familiar to him. The kitchen was also empty and the back door was standing open. As he reached the door, he saw the narrow stairs leading to the upper floor.
When he’d been growing up, he’d always wanted to see the upstairs of the house, had even imagined owning the house one day.