A Message for Julia. Angel Smits

space they sectioned off was small and close, but it was the best hope they had of surviving until the rescue teams came for them.

      They struggled with the large canvas, stumbling a couple of times because of the difficulty breathing. Twice, Zach left and had to crouch down to catch his breath. Finally, the large sheet in place, they all settled down to regain their strength.

      Linc felt the exhaustion and lethargy creep over him. He stared at the white canvas wall—what he could see of it in the dim light, anyway. Somehow, it seemed they were admitting defeat by putting it up, but it was the only thing they had. Now all they could do was wait and try to stay alive.

      Leaning back against the cold, rough wall, Linc closed his eyes. Were these men’s faces and that damned wall of fabric the last things he’d ever see? Had this been what his father had experienced?

      Memories of that long-ago day surfaced. His father’s last day.

      The news had come that there had been a cave-in. The families all gathered aboveground, just as they probably were doing right now. Absently, Linc looked up, as if he could somehow see through the mountain of rock. Had they gotten in touch with Julia? Would she even come?

      Did she even know he was alive? Did anyone believe they’d survived? Were they going to dig for them, or had everyone given up and left the mine to be their tomb?

      Questions and images flew at him from everywhere inside his head.

      He remembered his mother’s collapse that day. She’d never been the same after that. The broken, wailing woman had looked and sounded nothing like the mother he’d known for sixteen years.

      As she’d crumbled, he’d put his arms around her, tried to comfort her, tried to absorb her tears into his young embrace. He’d tried but never quite succeeded.

      He thought about Julia and couldn’t imagine her crumbling like that, but he hadn’t expected it of his mother, either. Did Julia even still care enough to hurt for him? Panic shot through him. At least his mother had had him and his brother to comfort her.

      Julia had no one.

      And that was his fault. He’d moved her away from her parents. Away from her friends to a strange and—according to her—inhospitable town. He’d done worse than his own father. He’d left her totally alone.

      Guilt clawed in his chest as if some creature that had possessed him for years now fought to dig its way out.

      She wanted children. Desperately. He’d been the one who hadn’t really cared. He’d rarely considered having kids of his own, swearing he wouldn’t leave them as his father had left him. But he’d always tried to give Julia everything he could.

      A sound, a sob, broke from his throat. He smothered it with a groan and rose to his feet. He smacked his shoulder on the rock wall but suffered the pain in silence, accepting the punishment for his own selfish stupidity.

      “What are they doing up top?” Ryan’s voice shook. Linc realized all of their emotions were kicking in without any physical activity to distract them.

      “They’ll drill an air shaft first,” Gabe whispered from the far corner as if fighting his own fears.

      “Yeah,” Linc agreed, hoping. “Fresh air. Man, won’t that be nice?” Perhaps he’d get another chance. Perhaps, he prayed, not even sure what he was praying for, but knowing it couldn’t hurt.

      Wouldn’t that surprise Julia? Him. Praying. He shook his head and smiled. The movement pulled the tight skin of his dry lips and the twinge of pain reminded him they all needed water.

      “Where are those water jugs?” he asked. The water was kept down here for the machines but came in handy in times like this.

      “Over by Casey,” Ryan answered.

      Linc found them easily. He opened one and took a deep swallow, then passed it to Ryan. “Take some. We need to stay hydrated.” Ryan nodded and drank. Everyone followed suit and they even managed to get some down Casey’s throat.

      Linc sank back down to his spot on the ground. He’d be damned if he was giving up.

      Julia might be up there. She might not, but he was going to do everything in his power to get back to her so they could at least fight it out face-to-face.

      He had to hold on to that anger. It might be all he had.

      Thursday Afternoon, 5:00 p.m.

      THE STEEL DOORS AT THE END of the gym burst open, sending Julia’s heart into her throat. Men covered in soot, their clothes grimy with it, flooded into the gym.

      Everyone in the bleachers stood. Looking, seeking the man they’d spent the past few hours agonizing over.

      Fervently, Julia searched. Too tall. Too short. Too heavy. While all the men looked alike in their dirty coveralls and blackened faces, none of them remotely resembled Linc.

      Her stomach tensed and her chest burned as she held her breath. Tears flowed and men hugged women, children and each other. Slowly, the crowd thinned as families left. Surely she’d find him soon. Or he’d find her.

      Lord knew she longed for that instant when she’d see him, recognize him. Would he hug her tightly? She wouldn’t even care if the mine soot ruined her clothes. Or would he simply look at her with that painful silence and turn away as he had so many times lately?

      She didn’t care right now. She just wanted him here, safe. She couldn’t be his wife anymore, but she didn’t want him hurt, either.

      Still, he didn’t appear.

      The fluorescent lights overhead dimmed. The noise of the crowd faded.

      He wasn’t coming. She knew it. Knew deep down inside that he was with that ill-fated crew.

      “Oh, God,” she whispered and felt the bench come up to meet her. She wanted to bury her face in her hands and weep but didn’t dare, just in case she missed him.

      “Daddy!” Miranda’s high-pitched squeal shattered the din. Miranda’s father, grungy and filthy, swept her up in his arms. She giggled despite the smudge of black he left on her cheek where he kissed her.

      “Daddy, did you help Ms. Holmes’s husband?”

      He frowned in confusion.

      “Oh, sweetie.” Julia stood again and reached out to stop the girl’s words before they could rush out, but Miranda wasn’t having any of that.

      “Your husband?” Mr. Olsen—Julia couldn’t remember his first name at the moment—looked at her in confusion, then as recognition dawned, he frowned. “Is he down there?”

      She couldn’t speak. All she could manage was a shrug. She longed for the days when a daddy could fix all the world’s problems.

      “We’re going back down, ma’am.”

      “Ben, no.” His wife held tight to his hand, snuggled up against his side and laid her head on his shoulder.

      “You know that’s how we do it,” he whispered.

      Tears in her eyes, the woman nodded. “I know.”

      Julia looked at the small family, her longing so thick it nearly stopped her heart from beating. She wanted a family of her own, but right now she was far away from having anything close to that.

      “Holmes, right? He’s the inspector?” Ben’s voice broke into her thoughts. “He’s a good guy. Not like some inspectors. He’s fair. We’ll get him out.”

      She believed him. Linc would do the exact same thing. That look of determination in Ben’s eyes was identical to the one she saw so often on Linc’s face.

      How had she missed that?

      She swallowed hard and sat back down before she fell over. She watched the Olsen family leave. Miranda and her mother turned toward home,