Page 59 of A Tenuous Betrothal
“I’m a friend of Miss Rhianna Davies.”
“We knew she’d come through. Comes from good stock, that one.” Every-one nodded and made noises of acceptance. “You young?” The first man leaned in close as if to study him, though Marc could hardly make out the man’s features.
“She’s a good woman. You’re a smart man if you stick close to that one.” Another man nearer him jabbed him in the side.
“Duly noted. Thank you.” He reached for a pickax. “Now, tell me where we need to be digging.”
“Right this way... what’s your name?”
“Marc.”
“Right this way, Marc.”
Soon no words were necessary as everyone dug as deeply and as powerfully as they could, hoping to reach a tunnel opening that led to the trapped miners.
Marc swung hard and fast, hoping to accomplish much in little time. But after several hours, with seemingly little progress, he felt disheartened. With aching shoulders, arms, and neck, he paused against the side of the tunnel to take a break. Someone took the ax from him and took their turn, the miners rotating with each other to keep the work going.
Marc made his way closer to the back of the group, where other men were pulling out the dirt in carts and bringing emptied ones back in. It was an organized process that was impressive to him. He leaned up against the cool stone, closer to the entrance. A worker shared the dirt wall with him, looking tired, perhaps defeated. Everything these families were facing right then, and the mining life in and of itself, was hard, dirty, and dangerous—enough to deflate any man. And these miners did it every day for weeks, months, even years on end.
Marc tried to think of something to lift this man’s spirits. “Miners are strong, I tell you. It’s coming along back there.”
The worker turned. “Prince Marc?”
“Miss Davies?” His breath caught, and his arms shook as he pulled her close, as close as he could get her, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I’m so glad you didn’t go running deep into the mine.” He steadied his breath that felt ragged in relief.
“Who says I didn’t?”
Laughing, he wanted to drink her in, wished he could see her better in the half light. “Are you well?” He looked her over, checking for hidden injuries.
“Yes, but... you’re here in the mine?” She squinted. “Digging?”
“I couldn’t help myself. I brought the new lantern—they have light up ahead—and then I picked up an ax and started digging. They’re going to save them, your workers. They’re going to save the others.” He felt so good, letting her know. All the hope he had was infused into his words.
He couldn’t make out her expression, but she squeezed him in a second embrace. “Someone is going to need to explain all this to Uncle.”
“Or he’s going to need to explain all this to someone. His actions toward his workers are irresponsible, and he should be held accountable for their lives.”
She leaned back and closed her eyes again, the fatigue clearing from her face as she rested her head against the wall. “I knew you would know what to do.”
“Have you slept?”
“No, you?”
“An hour or two.” He sighed. “But I can’t leave until I know they are saved.”
“Come, let’s go see Mr. Thomas.” She tugged at him, dragging her feet, moving slowly but insistently, and he followed.
They stepped out of the new mine entrance. Marc blinked about ten times to adjust to the now-bright sunlight.
“There you are.” Kristoff stepped forward, with Henri right behind him. “We’ve been looking for you, sure that you wouldn’t have run straight into the exploding, collapsing mine.” His mouth twitched in an almost-smile, but it looked more like a grimace, as if to say they knew that was exactly what he’d done and Kristoff had been sick about it.
Marc’s throat constricted. When he stepped into danger, the others worried. He knew that, but the reminder hit him a bit differently in that moment. He cleared his throat. “I delivered the first of the lanterns. The rest will be coming at the end of next week.”
Kristoff nodded, all evidence of his concern well hidden. “Excellent. Good work, Brother.”
Miss Davies’s eyes shone with appreciation. “I’m so grateful the miners aren’t even more at risk.” Her brow wrinkled. “But those who have been trapped...” Her hands clung together, wringing. “I’ll be glad when we’re through and they are stepping out into the sunlight.”
“Yes, I as well,” the foreman grunted, appearing next to them.
