The Miner's Lady (17 page)

“Yes,” her father agreed. “In fact, someone could start up a new business to do just that. If a fella had a couple of good draft horses, he could pull those stumps out easily.”

“I just hope that the incorporation will allow for more law and order,” Mama declared. The bobbins fairly flew through her fingers as she worked to complete a piece of lace she'd promised to the wife of a mine owner. She'd been working on it for more than a month.

“I wouldn't count on things changing right away,” Papa replied, putting his newspaper aside. “Although I did hear them say that an election would be held on the seventh of April. They plan to vote for a mayor instead of a village president.”

“Do you suppose Dr. Shipman will run?” Mama asked.

“I don't think so.” Papa shook his head. “I heard he wanted to focus on his plans to build a new hospital. Not only that, but he has his hands full now as it is. I was glad to hear we are getting a new doctor to help him. With the mines expanding, there are more and more accidents.”

“Well, the Finnish Temperance Society plans to use this occasion to see that alcohol is eliminated from town,” Mama said with a nod toward Marco and Alfredo. “I'm so glad that our boys have decided to turn away from such things.”

Chantel knew her mother was delighted at the change in her son's entertainment habits. Drinking was bad enough, but gambling had led to the ruin of many a man in Ely. It seemed there was nothing that could not be wagered on. Dog fights, cock fights, cards, and so much more were ready and waiting to steal a man's hard-earned money. In fact, there were even bets on when the ice would be off the lake. It was a yearly event of which even the staunchest non-gamblers often partook.

As the hour grew late, Chantel suppressed a yawn and put aside her tatting. “I believe I am going to bed. I want to be fresh
for morning services.” She got to her feet and stretched. “Good night.” She walked to her mother and kissed her on the cheek.

“You are in my prayers,” Mama said, giving her a smile.
“Dio sia con voi.”

“And God be with you, Mama.” Chantel kissed Papa's cheek and repeated the blessing.

She made her way to the bedroom and was surprised to find Isabella still awake. In fact, she was not only awake, but was rather busy folding clothes. All at once it dawned on Chantel what was happening.

“You're preparing to leave.”

“Yes,” Isabella replied, flipping her long, unbound hair over one shoulder. “Orlando's father is going south tomorrow. He'll take the afternoon train and be gone for the week. We figure to leave on Monday. That way we'll have plenty of time to get away before he even knows what has happened.”

“And Orlando is ready to be disowned?”

Isabella straightened. “He feels he has no alternative. He won't give me up, nor I him.”

“And what of his father's threat to see him ruined in mining?”

“That's the least of Orlando's worries. He hates mining work. He has always planned to take on a different trade.”

Chantel sat down on the edge of her bed. “It won't be easy. Without references or knowing someone in the trade he chooses, he might well find it impossible.”

“I think Aunt Marilla will have friends who can help us.”

“So you'll remain in Duluth?”

Isabella shook her head. “Not necessarily. I'm hopeful that our aunt can put us in touch with someone in Chicago.”

“Why there?”

“It's far enough away and bigger. Far bigger than Duluth. I believe we can move there and lose ourselves among the population. At least that's what we hope for. I also figure I'll have a better chance at getting a job.”

Chantel tried to imagine her sister employed and smiled. “I don't suppose Orlando will want his wife working . . . at least not for long.”

Isabella crossed the room to take more clothes from the wardrobe. “He doesn't mind . . . at least not until I find myself with child.”

“It's hard to imagine you married and gone from here, much less a mother,” Chantel said. A wave of sadness swept over her. “I shall miss you more than I can say.”

“I will miss you, too. I missed you when you left for Italy, and I suppose that's why I started having such an interest in Orlando.” She smiled. “Maybe you will find a man to keep your mind preoccupied as he did for me.”

Chantel immediately thought of Dante and shook her head. “I don't know that there is anyone here for me. In fact, I might well return to Italy.”

Isabella stopped her folding and looked to her sister. “You could come with Orlando and me. We could work together, and then I wouldn't feel so bad about taking your money.”

She smiled and shook her head again. “No, you and Orlando must make a life together. Besides, Mama will be far too lonely if I go, as well.”

Shrugging, Isabella returned to the task at hand. “I suppose you're right. But you know you will always be welcome in my house. I do hope you'll come to visit me.”

“I will,” Chantel promised. But even as she made the
pledge, she couldn't help but wonder if that would even be possible. It was hard to think of the family going their separate ways. They had always been so close. Family was everything. Perhaps with Papa getting older, she could convince her parents to join her in returning to the land of their birth. Maybe in Italy she could forget about Dante Calarco.

Chantel began to undress for bed, still pondering that idea. She thought of Orlando and Isabella and how their marriage would come as a shock to her relatives in Italy. Would it do what Issy hoped and bring the two families together? Or would it only serve to further tear them apart? Her thoughts came in flurries as she realized she would only have this night and one more with her sister.

I won't be sad
.
I won't make Issy question her decision. She and Orlando were meant to be together. Hopefully in a very short time, even the Calarcos will be able to realize that
.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Chantel asked after pulling on her nightgown. She pulled the pins from her hair and let the long coil of brown hair swirl around her shoulders and down her back.

“No, I'm nearly done.” Isabella paused a moment. “I take that back. You can do one thing—pray. Pray that this will go well. Pray that we can get away without trouble following.”

Chantel took hold of Isabella's hands. “I will pray . . . just as I have been praying all along since you first told me of your love for Orlando. I know God will guide you. I believe that with all of my heart.”

“I do, too,” Isabella replied. “And so does Orlando. We truly believe that in time, this will unite our families. Of course, we aren't marrying for that alone.” She smiled in a
dreamy sort of way that Chantel couldn't help but envy. “We are definitely a love match,” Isabella added.

“I hope you're right . . . about the uniting of the families,” Chantel said.

“Remember when we were little and first learned of Jesus' death on the cross? Mama told me that it was like there was a huge canyon between us and our Father in heaven. Jesus was like a bridge between sinners and God. He put himself between His Father and us so that we could have a way to reach God. I remember telling Mama that I thought it very unfair that anyone should have to sacrifice so much for us.”

“I remember thinking something similar,” Chantel replied. “It didn't seem right that someone else should have to pay for my sins.”

Isabella nodded. “But Mama said that without Jesus's offering for us, we would forever be at odds with our heavenly Father.”

Chantel nodded. “I remember that, too.”

“Well, I am taking up the example Jesus gave,” Isabella declared, striking a stance that took on the appearance of a fierce female warrior. “I am going to be that bridge for our families. With God's help, of course.”

Chantel hugged her sister close and murmured a silent prayer
. Oh, Father God, please protect them from harm. Please lead them onto the right path—the choice you have made for them. Let them seek you and listen for your voice. Help Isabella to be the bridge to peace that she feels directed to be. Amen
.

“I wish you didn't have to leave,” Mama told Isabella. They were awaiting Orlando's arrival that early Monday morning, and emotions were high.

“I know, Mama, but it must be this way. Hopefully everything will be worked out soon and God will help Mr. Calarco to put aside his anger and forgive us.”

Chantel finished packing a basket the young couple would take with them on the train. “There's enough food here for a small army,” she told her sister.

“That's good,” Isabella countered. “Orlando can eat like a small army.” She hurried to the window for the sixth time in as many minutes. “Where is he? The train will be here soon, and we must be on it.”

“Don't worry,” Chantel said, coming up behind her. Mama joined them at the window to keep vigil.

“But there is no other way to get to Duluth,” Isabella fretted, “other than sleigh or dog sled—and we have access to neither. We have to make the train and do it today. We need as much time as possible to distance ourselves from Ely before his father returns.”

“You know we will do what we can to keep him from discovering where you've gone,” Chantel said, taking hold of Isabella's shoulders from behind. Isabella reached up to clasp Chantel's right hand. Her fingers felt icy.

Finally the women wearied of standing at the frosty window and made their way into the front sitting room, where Isabella's suitcase awaited.

“I wish I could have taken a trunk,” she said, looking sadly at the single case, “but Orlando said we needed to be able to move quickly.”

“We can send you whatever you leave behind,” Mama promised, her accent thick with emotion. “When you get settled, we will ship all your things.”

Isabella nodded and paced in front of the fireplace. “He should be here by now. Something must have happened. Maybe Dante wouldn't let him leave.”

“I thought you said he was going to go to work with Dante as if nothing was amiss, and then slip away,” Chantel said.

“Yes, but they work together so much of the time—as a team,” Isabella added. “He might have found it difficult to get away from him.”

“I suppose that is possible. It would explain the delay. But maybe he wanted to wait until the last minute so that Dante wouldn't have time to realize he was gone. With the depot so close to the mine, it might be difficult for Orlando to time things properly.”

“He still needs to get back to the house and get his things. Then he will come here for me and—”

A knock sounded against the front door. Isabella rushed for the foyer. “He's here!”

Chantel and her mother followed and were relieved to find Isabella had been right. The couple embraced for just a moment before Orlando put Isabella aside.

“We need to go quickly. The captain put me to work in one of the other shafts, so Dante won't miss me for a while. But the train will depart soon.”

“I'm ready,” Isabella said, hurrying into her coat. She pulled on her gloves and looked to her sister. “Chantel, would you get my bonnet and suitcase?”

Chantel nodded and went to retrieve the things. She tried not to feel overly anxious for the young couple. It would be difficult for them to make their escape, but not impossible. Especially if God was truly in this, as Chantel believed He was.

“Here you are,” Chantel said, handing her sister the bonnet. She held on to the suitcase and waited for Isabella to secure her hat. To her surprise, Orlando took the case and then hugged her.

“Thank you for your help. I will repay you as soon as I can.”

“It's a wedding gift,” Chantel declared. “No need to repay anything.”

Orlando shook his head. “I can't let you do that. It wouldn't be right to start my married life that way.” He looked to Mama. “I intend to do right by Isabella. I told your husband the same thing when he gave me his blessing to marry her. I will work hard, and I will love her forever.”

“That is all any mama could hope for,” she said, giving Orlando a kiss on the cheek. “Stay close to God, Orlando. If you draw near to Him and Issy does likewise, you will find that you draw closer to each other, as well.”

He nodded and turned to his wife-to-be. “Come on. We need to go.”

“Oh, the basket of food!” Chantel said and hurried to the table. She brought back the goodies, and Orlando took those, as well. He smiled and nodded his appreciation.

“I'll be outside,” he told Isabella.

Chantel kissed her sister and whispered against her bonneted head, “I love you, and I will do what I can to make things work out here.”

Isabella pulled away and smiled. “If anyone can find a way to fix things, it's you, Chantel. Just don't worry for us. We'll be fine.”

She hugged her mother and then hurried out the door after Orlando. Without another word or look, the couple disappeared around the corner. Chantel stood in the open doorway with her mother and watched the empty street for a moment longer. When the cold finally forced them back inside, the house seemed very empty.

Chantel looked at her mother and saw that she was crying. “Oh, Mama, they will be all right,” she said, hugging her mother close.

Her mother reverted to Italian once again. “I know, but I wish they didn't have to run away like this. Isabella could have married in the church with a fine wedding. It's a mama's heart to desire such things for her children.”

“Maybe one day Mr. Calarco will realize that this is a good thing, and we can at least have a party for them.”

Mama nodded. “Maybe.”

Evening came and with it the men returned from their hard labors. They had taken time to clean their hands and faces
at the company washhouse, but their clothes were still filthy. Chantel didn't cherish the thought of having to do all the laundry without her sister's help. Winter always made such chores much harder, although the heat from the cauldron fire was far more welcomed. Mama would offer to help, but Chantel knew she would have enough of her own work to tend to, what with the ironing and mending that would need to be done.

“Have they gone?” Papa asked.

Mama gave a sad smile. “Yes. They left in time to catch the train. Since I've not heard anything to the contrary, I believe they must have made it.”

Papa nodded. “I hope they will be careful.”

“Come, we will have supper,” Mama said. “Chantel, she made a wonderful meal for us. Let's eat it now.”

They made their way to the table, where Chantel had already placed a massive serving bowl of meatballs. Another large dish of baked pasta and vegetables sat at the opposite end of the table with two large loaves of bread gracing either side. It looked like more food than the small family could possibly need, but Chantel knew her brothers and father would most likely eat every last morsel and still have room for dessert.

Papa offered a prayer, and then the five of them dug into the meal. They all seemed painfully aware of the empty sixth chair at the table. Isabella's vivacious spirit was hard not to miss.

Don't be such a ninny
.
She's not dead and gone forever. We will see her again
.

They were nearly ready for dessert when a loud banging sounded on the front door. Mama and Papa exchanged a
look. They all knew that this moment would come. Dante Calarco would know to look for his missing brother here.

Chantel was surprised it had taken this long. She rose to answer the door, but her father shook his head. “Marco will get it.”

Marco nodded and went to the door. Chantel could hear Dante rage at her brother, demanding to know where Orlando was. It was only a matter of minutes before he stormed into the room searching the table for Orlando.

“Welcome back, Dante,” Mama said as sweetly as if he were there for a Sunday visit. “We were about to have dessert, but if you haven't eaten supper yet, you're welcome to join us.”

Dante calmed at her words. “No thank you. Nonna has a meal waiting for me. I came for my brother.”

“As you can see,” Papa said, “he isn't here.”

That seemed to momentarily stupefy Dante. He seemed to consider the situation before posing his next question. “Where are they?”

“I presume you mean your brother and Isabella,” Papa replied. “Have a seat, and I will try to explain.”

Dante shook his head. “I don't want to sit down. Just tell me where they are so I can fetch him home. My father gave me charge to keep Orlando in line. I was afraid something like this might happen. I knew I couldn't trust him to stay away from here.”

“Be that as it may,” Papa said in a collected manner, “I have not yet had my dessert and would very much like to enjoy it before speaking further on this.” He looked to Chantel. “Will you serve us?”

“Sí, Papa,” she said, getting to her feet. She looked to Dante.
“Are you sure you won't join us? I've made stuffed peaches again, and there is more than enough.”

Dante looked at her for a long moment. “I can't. I need to get back. When Orlando shows up, tell him to come home straightaway.”

“We will,” Papa replied.

Chantel knew it wasn't an outright lie, but it almost felt like one. She couldn't help but feel sorry for Dante. He walked from the room in such a dejected manner that she very nearly ran after him to explain. Instead, she went to retrieve the peaches.

The evening wore on, but instead of feeling any better about the situation, Chantel only felt the tension build. She could imagine Dante sitting in his house, watching and waiting for a brother who would never show up. She hoped that Orlando had explained the situation to Nonna Barbato. The old woman would be supportive of the elopement, Chantel knew, and perhaps in time she could even help Dante and his father to understand.

Eventually, her father and brothers took themselves to bed and Mama kissed Chantel on the forehead. “I believe I will retire, as well. We've a busy day tomorrow.”

“I won't be long,” Chantel said. “I just want to finish this handkerchief.” She had been sewing tatted lace to the edges of a linen cloth. She wanted to send more to Aunt Marilla to sell in Duluth.

“Just don't strain your eyes,” Mama implored. “The light is not very good.”

“It's enough for this. I won't be very much longer, anyway.” Mama nodded and left without another word.

The house settled into silence, with only the crackling of the logs on the fire echoing through the room. Chantel didn't bother to hurry her stitches, though she knew the next morning would come far too soon. She dreaded going to her empty bedroom. Without Isabella there, it would seem so lonely.

Chantel thought of her sister embarking on a new life. Isabella had found a mate, a partner with whom she could share the joys and burdens of this world. Chantel, in comparison, now found her own life rather empty. She had no one but Mama and Papa . . . and they wouldn't live forever.

Tears began to stream down Chantel's cheeks and a sob broke from her throat. She put aside the handkerchief for fear of marring it with her tears. Burying her face in her hands, she began to cry in earnest. Loneliness gripped her heart.

When the knock sounded this time on the front door, it wasn't as heavy- handed as before. Chantel couldn't imagine who it might be. It was well past time for visitors, and her family had already gone to bed. Nevertheless, she did her best to stifle her emotions and went to see who it was. She dried her eyes on the hem of her apron, but knew she couldn't hide her red eyes.

When she opened the door to find Dante Calarco standing silently on the other side, Chantel could no longer contain her feelings.
He looks just as miserable as I feel. Like he's lost something valuable—something precious.
Without thinking of the repercussions, she burst into tears once again and fell into his arms.

———

Dante stood holding the sobbing woman—his enemy—his heart. He couldn't bear that she was so upset, and yet
he didn't know what he could say that wouldn't add to her pain. He'd come here looking for answers. Looking for his brother. Instead he found his mixed emotions only further complicated by Chantel's heartbreak.

For several minutes he did nothing but hold her, cherishing the feel of her warm body next to his. The cold of the Minnesota winter was at his back, but the heat of the woman he'd come to love was making him forget who he was and why he was there.

Without meaning to, Dante buried his fingers in her hair and raised her damp face to meet his. Then, knowing he shouldn't, Dante lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with all the pent-up longing he felt. She didn't resist, but returned the kiss with an ardor to match his own. Then, without a word, they broke apart and stood staring at each other.

Chantel had stopped crying, but now looked terrified at what they'd just done. She touched her fingers to her lips, which only served to make Dante want to kiss her again. He stood his ground, however, and did nothing.