This morning, he’d helped with her chores and saw to his gelding, and now she was finally taking him to Sampson.
Jess’s lantern lit the tight space. At least the ceiling was higher here than the other tunnel.
She started forward, and he stayed close behind her. This cave was too narrow for them to move side-by-side, but he’d like to remain in the light.
The rough-hewn angles of the stone around them showed this corridor had most likely been cut out by hand.
His family didn’t use blasting powder at their own mine, so he hadn’t seen much of what an explosion left behind, but the flat angles around him looked more like the cave in their sapphire mine he and his brothers had been cutting out little by little these past few years.
The clamor of pickaxes striking rock sounded in the distance, a hollow ringing that bounced off the stone walls.
This mine appeared to be a massive operation, as deep as these tunnels went into the mountain. Hand-cut as they appeared, it would have taken many men over the course of years to cut so far in.
The passageway opened into a cavern, the lantern’s flickering light casting eerie shadows across the jagged walls. This room was smaller than the one she’d brought him to the night before. Three men worked pickaxes against the stone, filling the air withclangsand heavy breathing.
A quick glance showed none was his brother. The one on the left was too stocky. In the middle, the fellow appeared too old. Really old, as Gil looked closer, and far too frail. The man on the right was shorter than Sampson and had pale hair.
As she strode through the cavern toward the older man, all three paused in their work. They turned to her with smiles—which faded the moment they saw Gil.
The old fellow kept his focus on Jess when she reached him, but the other two miners returned to their work, the clanging just as overwhelming as before. How could anyone stand this noise? He’d have to ask Jess later how long these men worked in the caverns each day. Surely not long.
Jess leaned in to say something to the man, and Gil halted a few steps back to give them privacy. Not that he could overhear with this racket.
She glanced over her shoulder and motioned Gil forward, slipping her hand around his upper arm when he was close. Sheleaned up to speak into the old fellow’s ear. "Ezekiel, I’d like you to meet my husband. Gil Standish."
The man’s gaze had been locked on her mouth, reading her words most likely. But now it flicked up to her eyes, his own narrowing for just a second, as though making certain he’d heard right.
As much as Gil would like to see the expression on Jess’s face, he didn’t want to miss whatever Ezekiel might communicate with his eyes. The marriage must surprise him.
Ezekiel turned to Gil then, unwrapping gnarled fingers from his pickaxe to extend his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Gil." His voice quavered with age.
Gil grasped it, meeting the man’s gaze with a nod. “Same here, sir.”
The pickaxes had ceased again, the other miners watching this meeting.
Ezekiel’s hand was rough with calluses and dirt but not as strong as Gil would have expected from a fellow who cut through stone every day—even one who had a few years on him. Maybe he hadn’t been working here long.
As Ezekiel held Gil’s hand a little longer than usual, his eyes regarded him with a depth of wisdom and knowing that seemed to see all the way to his soul. "I'm sure there's quite a story behind this union, one I'd very much like to hear." He gentled the words with a warmth in his eyes and a tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He turned back to Jess, and those brown eyes softened even more. “How are you, Miss Jess?”
She released Gil’s arm as though finally relaxing. “I’m all right, but what of you? How’s your cough? Have you had any more breathing troubles?" Her brow furrowed as she studied him.
Ezekiel waved off her worries. "The Lord provides me with the breath I need each day. It’s plenty enough."
Jess touched his sleeve. "And your shoulder? Is it still paining you? I can come back with liniment to rub on it. I’ll be here at the lunch hour when you have a break."
The old man patted her hand. "You are a blessing, sweet lady. But truly, God gives me all I require, another day to sing His praises and do His work."
How could this man have so much joy in the midst of a life in this place?
Jess and the old miner locked gazes, faded eyes meeting sharp vibrant ones, and a wordless conversation passed between them. Jess's face softened, and her lips tugged. A weight appeared to lift from her shoulders. How long had they known each other? Long enough for Jess to trust him…far more than she trusted her father, it seemed.
At last, she turned away and bid farewell to all three men. Gil did the same, and the clamor started up again as he followed her into another tunnel, this one wide enough for them to walk side by side.
When they’d moved away from the noise, he spoke quietly. "Ezekiel seems like a good man. How long has he worked here?"
In the swinging lantern light, her expression was hard to make out, but her voice held a smile." About three years. I've asked him why he stays, why he doesn't go somewhere easier. But he always says the same—the Lord called him to serve inthismine, called him tothiswork and tothesemen."
