Where Courage Calls: A When Calls the Heart Novel (14 page)

A
S
B
ETH
TRUDGED
along the dusty road to school on Monday, her mind was on Paolo and the rest of the miners in the rough camp outside of town. If one was not aware of their presence, it could seem they did not even exist. She wondered what it would be like to live so close to a town and yet be entirely excluded from it.

But even as she puzzled over it, she reminded herself that she was still a stranger herself despite her growing care for the people of Coal Valley. In truth, even Philip really was an outsider. Perhaps there was a reason—a good reason—why this unpleasant-sounding division was accepted by the entire town. Were the people here aware of issues of which Beth was not? Even Molly, in fact, had not brought it up. Beth knew that it would be prudent to use caution before meddling. And yet she could not help but worry about Paolo. He was a polite and articulate young man. Surely something could be done to help him. And maybe through him help the others.

Beth was entering the shadowed hallway leading into the schoolroom when she was reminded of those deep passageways
into the mountain
.
She could not imagine what it would be like to spend one’s days deep within the rugged walls of rock and timbers. No sun. No fresh air. The very thought made her feel claustrophobic.

And the dangers? Many men from Coal Valley had already lost their lives in the dreadful underground calamity. How could these replacement miners dare go back into the belly of that mine? How could their wives and families even consider letting them enter the tunnels? And young sons like Paolo . . . the very idea made Beth shiver.

As she pushed open the windows on the lovely autumn morning, she heard the sounds of her students arriving for another day of learning. It would be a perfect day to take the class on a nature hike. She wondered how the mothers would respond to such an idea and wished she’d had the foresight to ask Molly. Winter would soon be upon them, and such an opportunity might not present itself again.

With the feelings among the townspeople toward the miners’ camp, though, would such an outing even be considered? Surely knowing that the miners spent their days deep within the mountain would provide the mothers confidence enough to allow such an excursion. Taking herself in hand, Beth hurried with last-minute lesson preparations before it would be time to ring the bell to call the students inside. They no doubt were enjoying every minute of the lovely fall weather and were in no hurry to leave the outdoors.

Beth glanced once more through the window and noticed Teddy and Addison engaged in an animated discussion on the other side of the street. Their hands were gesturing as part of the exchange, and their laughter was reaching Beth’s ears—whatever it was must be highly amusing.

She stood gazing at them, deep in thought.
How
much longer
will the oldest students be allowed to be
children? Already they have taken on responsible tasks as the
eldest in their homes. Will they soon be called away
from the schoolroom and required to take on some sort
of occupation? How much longer will they have to prepare
for life as adults?

Sobered by her thoughts, she prayed,
Please, Lord—not the mines.

It wasn’t until that moment that Beth realized how much the mine disaster troubled her spirit. She had recently run across the account of another one, a slide that had occurred in 1903 at a town called Frank not too many miles away. Much of the town had been buried when the side of the mountain gave way and covered the town, and there was great loss of life. Beth tried to still her anguished heart with the truth she knew.
Yes—God
is good. And God is in charge.
But in spite of her faith in Him, fear nibbled at the edges of her confidence. She wondered if her young students felt the uncertainty, the fear, as well.

And what of the
miners themselves?
The most frightening part was that she had no idea if they were ready to die.
What if
they are not ready for eternity and no one is
able or willing to share the truth with them?
Beth believed in Philip’s sincere concern, but she wondered why someone who spoke Italian had not been sent here. Far better still, someone to teach them English, make friends with them, prepare them for the gospel’s invitation.
Something needs
to be done—and soon.

A light rap on the outside door brought Beth up short. She lifted her hand and realized she was still holding the school bell . . . and that she had not yet rung it. She moved quickly into the hallway to the door. Her young students huddled together on the doorstep, wide-eyed and silent, staring at Beth until Sadie dared ask, “Are we havin’ school today?”

Beth lifted the watch pinned to her dress and gasped. It was already fifteen minutes past class time.

“Oh my” was all she could manage. “Oh my. I am so sorry. I was lost in thought. I’m very sorry.”

Sadie turned and waved a hand toward a group of boys kneeling on the ground by the bushes. “They’re still playin’ marbles,” she informed Beth.

Beth looked again at the silent bell in her hand. “Come in,” she invited the cluster of younger students before her, and gave the bell a firm shake. The boys scrambled to their feet, dusting off knees as they came. It was not long until she had all her students in their proper places, ready for the recital of the Lord’s Prayer. But she did fervently hope none of the townsfolk had been watching the clock and noted the late school start.

Beth’s day ended the same way it had begun—concerns for the town and for the camp so near—yet so far—were uppermost in her mind as she trudged back toward the boarding house. In whom could she confide? With all her heart Beth wished she could talk with her father, could seek his counsel. She was sure he would share her distress. Hadn’t he advised her to find out what God had for her to do? Beth was becoming convinced that the task for her was much bigger than simply the classroom. Her students clearly were the main reason God had brought her to Coal Valley, but unless something more was done—something for the town and the miners—those growing up now would face the same troubles as those of their parents. In Beth’s mind, the biggest need for the entire area and the one thing that would bring them together was a shared faith. But what could she do? She was just one person—and a woman. She felt helpless.

A sudden thought lifted her spirits.
Mr. Russo.
He knew both the town and the camp. He could speak both English and Italian. He was highly respected in both places. He was the common bond. If the miners could not come into the town, then she would go to them—with Frank. He would be her chaperone. Her interpreter. Her co-worker. She knew he had faith. He must be as concerned about his countrymen as she.

With a lighter step Beth hurried into the house. She would seek the very first opportunity to speak with Frank. But she would not share that fact with Molly until they’d had their discussion. If he vetoed her proposal, she would accept his decision and press the matter no further. In the meantime she would pray. In fact, she would spend time in prayer as soon as she entered her room. She would pray until Molly or Marnie called her for the evening meal. Surely God’s concern was even greater than her own.

Now that she had the beginnings of a plan, Beth had felt both agitated and excited all evening. She knew she would not really be able to relax until she put the first piece of her plan in motion. Already she had spent time after the supper hour pouring over some school primers, sorting out what she might be able to use in the first English lessons for Paolo and his co-workers. She finally laid aside the books to prepare her lessons for the next day’s classes.

It was almost midnight before Beth convinced herself to retire for the night. By the time she climbed into bed, she was frazzled and exhausted and wondered if she would be able to turn off all her swirling thoughts. Yet she must.

Outside her window she noted that the sky, previously bright from a full moon and a canopy of glittering stars,
was now dark with a cloud cover. She could hear a wind whining among the branches of the large evergreens covering the hillside
. I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow
, so Mr. Russo will be out and about,
she fretted.
We need to get started right away.
Eventually she must have relaxed enough to fall into a restless sleep, because the next thing she knew a bright light filled the window and a rolling, clamorous sound rattled the windows and seemed to shake the very foundation of the building. Beth leaped to her feet before her eyes were fully open.
It’s happened! Another explosion
—and she was too late. Too late to teach them English. Too late to share the gospel. Too late . . .

Without waiting to slip on shoes she snatched up her robe and flung herself at her bedroom door.

“Wake up!” she cried into the darkness. “It’s another explosion at the mine! Wake up. We need to help them.”

Beth rushed down the hallway, knocking on each bedroom door, then back again, quickly lighting a candle on the hall table. “Wake up,” she called once more. “It’s happened again. Wake up!”

Doors began to open. Faces peered out, eyes heavy with sleep.

“What is it?” grumbled a husky voice from a dark doorway.

“An explosion,” called Beth. “We’ve got to help them. We must get to the mine.”

“An explosion? Well, even if it is, it won’t do anybody much harm this time of night. Nobody’s in the tunnels at this hour.”

Beth had not thought of that. Was it true? “But what about the camp?” she asked. “It’s not far from the entrance to the mine. We need to check,” she insisted.

By now everyone in the house was astir. Teddy and Marnie appeared, rubbing their eyes and wondering what was going
on. Beth took a deep breath and tried to explain as calmly as she could that she had heard a terrible explosion.

“I don’t see nothin’,” Walter insisted, sweeping back the hallway window curtain and squinting into the darkness without his glasses. “But I can’t see much in all this rain.”

And then it happened again. A flash in the sky that could only be lightning followed by a powerful, ear-splitting peal of thunder.

“That what you heard?” Henry demanded.

Beth couldn’t answer.
Is that the same sound?
Was it merely thunder that had wakened her and caused her already troubled mind to jump to ridiculous conclusions?

“I . . . I don’t know,” she stammered. “I was asleep and I heard— I thought it was . . .”

Again a zigzag of lightning streaked across the sky followed by peals of thunder that seemed to shake the whole house.

“Well, I never!” Walter exclaimed. “Nobody’s gonna sleep after all this fuss.”

Beth was beside herself with embarrassment and regret. “I’m so sorry,” she tried to apologize. “I—thought I— I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .”

Molly pushed in and pulled Beth up against her round side as though to protect her from the irritated glares and muttering comments. “Look—it’s too easy ta get spooked right now—what with the mine startin’ up again after the trouble. Let’s jest git on back ta bed and try fer some sleep. Nobody hurt here, so no harm done.”

Grumbling to themselves, the other boarders turned back toward their rooms, and Marnie and Teddy slipped away quickly.

Beth stood dumbstruck. Molly had not removed the arm from around her waist. Beth turned to her helplessly. “I’m . . .
I’m so sorry,” she said again, trying to keep from crying. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“’Course not,” said the older woman. “Coulda bin any one of us done the same thing. Wakin’ from a sound sleep to a noise like that . . .” She was cut off by another booming round of thunder. Molly nodded her head toward the window. “Sure sounds like a blast ta me.” Her arm tightened slightly. “Now ya better git on back to bed yerself. Ya got kids to teach, an’ ’fore long it’ll be mornin’.”

Beth swallowed hard and nodded. She wondered if she would ever be able to live this down. She could imagine the dark looks that would come her way at the morning’s breakfast table.