Wishes on the Wind (44 page)

    But Meg was well aware that the same could not be said of the Molly Maguires. As a result of Gowen's deliberate planning, the Irish now comprised only a minor percentage of the miners in the fields, and of those, few were Mollies. But Molly's power did not lie in numbers, and the toll taken by her "sons" was terrible. Breakers were burned and men beaten all across the fields, coal cars dumped, scores of scab workers driven away, and Meghan feared the worst was yet to come.

    The Mollies and Sean… The two had become synonymous in Meg's mind, and the pain of it squeezed her heart. He was openly a member of the Ancient Order of Hibernians and did not admit to membership in the Mollies, but she did not have to hear him speak the words to know that Sean had fervently embraced the organization. The many times he had left the house in the dark of night over the past years without explanation, his satisfaction at each heinous deed the Mollies accomplished, the deep, abiding hatred that had become so strong a part of his personality, all were irrefutable signs of Molly's domain.

    But then there was the other side of Sean, the loving, gentle side he showed to her, which had grown along with his darker side. If Sean and she had been close before, they were closer still, and if they had felt responsible for each other before, they now felt an even deeper commitment to each other's welfare as the turmoil around them increased.

    Suddenly seeing her tortured reflection in the lightly-frosted glass, Meg forced it away with the aid of long practice and affixed a suitable mask to her expression. The image that then looked back at her was not of an uncertain girl, but of a calm, mature woman.

    Carefully controlling the direction of her thoughts, Meghan assessed the vague reflection, wondering what the reaction of some might be to that woman, could they see her now. Her face was the same. Maturity had sculpted a delicate grace to her cheekbones and stubborn chin, where there had been youthful fullness before, accenting the ripe curve of a mouth that did not smile as easily as years earlier. The only truly significant visible change was the absence of innocence in her clear blue O'Connor eyes. She wore her unmanageable curls confined in a tight knot atop her head most of the day now, and she was no longer the shapeless lass she had once been. Somewhere along the path to adulthood she had filled out, her youthful breasts becoming fuller, the curve of her hips more pronounced. Her waist had remained minute, a delicate balance between the two that often turned heads with admiration, but such attention meant little to Meg. Her appearance was merely a matter of heredity, her O'Connor blood proving true. But her achievements were her own, and of them she was justly proud.

    A small, satisfied smile touched Meg's lips. The position Father Matthew had found for her almost five years earlier had gradually progressed from that of general clerk to unofficial manager of McCall's apothecary. She supposed James McCall's absence of progeny to assist in the family business was in her favor, but she knew she had diligently earned Mr. McCall's confidence in her. It was that position that now sustained them as the strike stretched on, and it was her fervent hope that matters would settle in the coal fields before establishments like Mr. McCall's were driven into the ground.

    But the general problems of the area meant little to Meg at that moment as she looked out the window, waiting. There was trouble in Ashland scabs being brought in to work at the Foxworth Colliery. The call had come to join ranks and drive them out, and many of the men from Shenandoah had responded. So far, none of them had returned.

    Sounds of movement from the kitchen below alerted Meg to someone's arrival there. She heard a familiar, rapid footstep on the staircase. She turned to the door just as it burst open and a big, sandy-haired man entered. The gaze of his warm brown eyes touched hers, and in a running step she met him halfway across the room as his brawny arms crushed her against him, his mouth descending to muffle with his kiss the single word that emerged from her lips.

    "Terry!"

    David eyed the slender, distinguished gentleman seated opposite him in the large executive office of the Philadelphia and   Reading Coal and Iron Company. His gaze was discerning. He had met Franklin Benjamin Gowen at a party in New York a week earlier, just after his return to the country. Gowen had invited him to his office for ''a talk" upon hearing his plans to travel to Philadelphia. Curious, David had come, but the instinctive distrust for Gowen that marked his first meeting with the man years before still remained.

    David glanced at the lovely young woman seated beside him, realizing that she was partially responsible for his presence in Gowen's office, and the idea amused him. Having elected to remain in Europe to work with a Swiss engineering firm for a year after graduation, he had already become restless and decided it was time to return to America when he met Elizabeth Marklin a month prior to his planned departure. It had not taken the beautiful, strong-minded debutante long to boldly alter her travel plans to match his.

    Elizabeth smiled and David nodded in response. Blond, wealthy, beautiful, and intelligent, Elizabeth Marklin had left no doubt in his mind from the first moment they met that she wanted him. The embers of that desire smoldered in her dark eyes as she met his gaze with a hypocritically innocent stare. "Well, what do you think of Ben's idea, David?"

    David turned back to consider Gowen's patrician face, and addressed him directly in response.

    "I admit to surprise at my own interest. After Uncle Martin sold the mine, I divorced myself completely from all connection with the coal fields, and I've given little thought to the time I spent there during the past few years." David's expression turned into a frown. "My aunt and uncle's European tour brought them to visit me in Switzerland just after the turn of the year. They told me what was happening, and I became intrigued. I've read everything I could about the strike and its ramifications in the newspapers since I returned."

    Gowen appeared pleased at David's interest. "I admit to some surprise of my own when your uncle told me he was putting the mine up for sale two years ago. Prior to that, he seemed opposed to my strategy in the coal fields and determined to carry on as he saw fit at Lang Colliery."

    A familiar knot tightened in David's stomach. "Yes… well, I think about that time he began seeing little use in continuing the struggle. My cousin Grace is his only child, you know. She married well, and since her husband's family fortune is tied up in other areas, there was little interest in the mine. As for myself, my studies led me in another direction entirely."

    "An educational background in engineering could be very useful in a mining operation."

    "I made it clear to Uncle Martin at that time that I had no intention of returning to the colliery."

    Ben Gowen hesitated, running a finger thoughtfully along his well-trimmed mustache as he appeared to study David's response. "May I ask why you came to that decision?"

    David hesitated. His eyes darkened before he responded briefly. "I lost interest in mining after a few years abroad."

    Ben Gowen shook his head, darting a quick glance toward Elizabeth. "Elizabeth appeared to believe just the opposite when we met at the governor's party last week. She seemed to think you'd welcome the opportunity to return if it proved financially profitable for you."

    A smile played at the corners of David's mouth as he gave his lovely companion a thoughtful glance. "I think it would be more accurate to say that
Elizabeth
would welcome the opportunity if it proved financially profitable for me. You see, I gave up a lucrative position in Europe when I decided to come home. She knows I won't come into my inheritance for almost two years, and that although my assets are presently limited, I have no current prospects for employment. A shortage of funds would embarrass her."

    "David! What a terrible thing to say!"

    David raised his dark brows, amused at her protest. "
You
know it's true, and
I
know it's true, Elizabeth. And I'm sure Mr. Gowen is aware of my financial situation, or he wouldn't have asked me to come here today."

    Not allowing time for discomfort, Gowen nodded. "Inquiries led me to believe that we can both benefit from an association right now."

    David paused, uncertain, finally deciding upon candor. "I'll be honest with you, Mr. Gowen. I haven't been in complete sympathy with your activities in the past, and I'm still uncertain if I agree with your methods."

    "I can't believe an intelligent man like you can say that, David." His fair face flushing in an uncharacteristically spontaneous display of annoyance, Gowen stood up and walked to the window. He turned back a few moments later, in full control again. "But I'm grateful for your forthright reply. In response, I'm     going to explain how I feel about the dangers inherent in the coal field situation, and my intentions. If you feel my actions unjustified when I'm finished, you can simply turn down my offer."

    Waiting for David's nod, Gowen seated himself again, leaning forward in an earnest posture as he began.

    "You must know that the coal industry has been its own worst enemy in the past, and you must also be aware that having been involved with it most of my life in one way or another, I feel a commitment to it. About six or seven years ago, I sat back and looked at the industry in general. Mines were failing, the market fluctuating. The reason was very clear: lack of control over production and marketing. Middlemen, coal factors, were sitting at the water's edge like leeches, sucking the lifeblood of a healthy trade, and I was determined to do something about it. I began by buying up coal lands, but contrary to the expectations of some who suspected my motives, I encouraged individual enterprise by leasing back much of the acreage to individual prospectors and by making loans to colliers, and by giving advances on mortgages for renovations of old collieries and construction of new ones. However, I was unsuccessful in overcoming the heritage of wastefulness, poorly financed organization, and of lethargy and ultraconservatism. Mines continued to fail."

    Gowen paused, his brows knit in an expression of concern. "Finally, in possession of forty thousand acres of coal lands and with my position as President of the Road, I attacked control of the amount sent to market. I was successful to a degree in my attempt and am proud of many things I've achieved that are to the good of the industry. One of my greatest successes has been the upgrading of the country's coal through institution of rigid inspection procedures and penalties against colliers who sought to perpetuate the country's reputation for 'dirty' coal."

    Gowen paused again, his expression hardening. "However, there are several impediments to progress that must be overcome. One of them is the control the Molly Maguires has over the coal fields." David's frown darkened, and Gowen nodded. "I see you remember the activities of the Mollies well. The situation hasn't changed, despite the influx of new miners into the fields in recent years. The Irish are now only a small percentage of the work force, but the Mollies' grip has become even stronger. Terrorism is their tool, and I've vowed to destroy the damned organization and all it represents."     The knot in David's stomach tightened. "Not all Irishmen are Mollies, sir."

    "I'm of Irish descent myself, David, and I'm well aware of that. The problem lies in determining who the Mollies are and putting them out of business. I have a separate plan underway in that regard, but the most pressing problem is that the Mollies are presently working hand-in-hand with the union during this strike."

    David shook his head. "I find that hard to understand. The activities of the Mollies are too abhorrent to most Irish for them to condone the organization for any reason."

    "You've been away from the fields for a long time, David. Some things have changed."

    "I doubt that the basic values of the people have been affected."

    Gowen's gaze silently challenged his remark before he proceeded. "Whether the Mollies are behind the union's position or not, the fact remains that the Mine Workers' Benevolent Association resents me and the necessary steps I've been forced to take. They say I intend to manipulate prices so that wages will go down. They want controls over the labor pool that I cannot guarantee and, in short, their demands are unreasonable. The murders continue, the fires, the destruction…"

    David stiffened, remembering a particular stable fire years earlier. It still raged occasionally in his nightmares, and although it had never been proven, he knew the Mollies were responsible for it. His voice hardened as he responded. "And how do you suppose I can effect a change in the downward spiral of events?"

    His keen eyes searching David's face intently, Gowen suddenly sat back. "The Lang Colliery is presently without a superintendent. Aaron Belcher, whom I placed in that position after your uncle sold out, was recently injured and has had enough. The violence has since abated and more men are returning to work each day, but the colliery operation is in the hands of men unequipped to handle its complex nature. I have fortified the position there with an increased number of Coal and Iron Police, but I need a man who knows the mine and the men there someone who can step in and take over someone who is not afraid to look those men in the eye and do what must be done."

    "And you think
I
am that man."

    "Yes I do. You were uncompromising in upholding your uncle's policies when you worked alongside him, and I ask no more of you than that. And I'm willing to pay you well to do the work."