Endless Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  The mines? Didn’t these kids know it was dangerous to play near any of the mines?

  Chris headed for the mercantile. Someone had to know where he could find Jeb Morrison.

  As he yanked the door open to the merc, the little bell above the door gave a jangle. Would anyone listen to him? Most people didn’t pay attention to town drunks.

  Even as he thought it, his stomach plummeted. Everything stopped, and he stood on the threshold unable to breathe. That’s how the town saw him . . . as one of the drunks. So why would they even give him the time of day? Was this the life he wanted to live? The reputation he wanted his family to live in the shadow of—that he was a no-good drunk?

  He shook off the mounting dread. This was about Maddy. Surely they would help a little girl. He stepped up to the counter.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Powell?” At least the man had the decency to know his name and talk to him without condescension.

  “I’m looking for Jeb Morrison. He’s a friend of my daughter Maddy. She’s missing.”

  A hush fell over the customers in the room.

  The man standing at the counter next to him nudged him in the arm. “I saw Jeb and his pa down by the creek just south of here ’afore I came in.”

  “Thank you.” Chris nodded at the man and raced out the door. The thought of finding his daughter and making his wife proud gave him a surge of energy and diminished his thirst. Maybe he could change. If he put his mind to it.

  When he reached the creek, a man and his son were washing gold pans.

  “You Jeb Morrison?” Chris reached for the kid’s arm. Blood pumped through his veins. The kid must know something, and Chris would get it out of him.

  “Who’s askin’?” The man yanked the boy’s arm out of Chris’s grasp and narrowed his eyes. When he straightened to his full height, he towered a good foot over Chris. And the breadth of his chest testified to years of hard labor on the mountain.

  All the bravado Chris had felt a moment ago vanished. He cleared his throat and forced himself to be congenial. “Name’s Chris Powell. I hear that Jeb and my daughter Maddy are friends. She’s missing. One of the other kids said she saw Jeb and Maddy playing near the mines this morning, so I thought your boy here might know where she is.”

  The man looked down at the boy. “You know anything about this? ’Cause if you been playing near the mines, you’ll get a beating you’ll not soon forget.”

  The kid shook his head. A little too fast. Something wasn’t right in the look of his eyes. Had he turned a touch paler? “Me and Maddy were looking for rocks this morning, but I haven’t seen her since.” He looked down and kicked the dirt with his shoe.

  “Good.” The man turned back to Chris. “Seems like we can’t help ya. Sorry ’bout that.” He crouched back down and picked up the gold pans. “Hope ya find yer girl. We got chores to do.”

  “Thanks for your help.” Chris watched them walk away. What was he supposed to do now? The kid had said they were looking for rocks . . . but where? The look on Jeb’s face had said it all. He knew something. Chris just had to get him away from his pa so he would talk.

  Staring at the two as they walked farther away, Chris shoved his hands back in his pockets. There had to be some way he could talk to the boy. Maybe if he followed them. And then waited outside their house. It might be the only way.

  Decision made, Chris started after them. But only a few steps later, he saw the kid headed back in his direction. Alone.

  Chris darted behind a tree. Somehow he had to get Jeb to cough up what he knew without scaring him off. But how?

  Light footsteps alerted him to the kid passing. Chris peeked around the tree and watched for several moments. Jeb was headed toward town, his head dipped low.

  Following a safe distance behind, Chris worked on what he would say. Calm voice. Don’t scare him away. Maddy needed to be found.

  When the kid went into the mercantile, Chris followed him. The perfect opportunity.

  “I need some tobacco for my pa.” The kid plunked down a coin. After several moments, the kid had his purchase tucked under his arm and headed for the door. He looked up, and his eyes widened as he spotted Chris.

  Chris held his hands out. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I won’t tell your pa. I promise. But I know you know something about where Maddy is. I need you to tell me the truth . . . please.”

  The kid bit his lip.

  “Look, I’m not mad at you, but there must be something wrong. Please. Just tell me.”

  Jeb’s face crumbled and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, mister. I didn’t know what to do. My pa will beat me bad if he knows we were playing in the mine.” Tears streamed down his face.

  Chris grabbed the boy’s shoulders and knelt down in front of him. “There’s hundreds of mines, which one? I promise I won’t say a word, but I have to find my daughter.”

  “The Long Shot. But a rumblin’ started and the ceiling came down. I don’t know where she is.” The kid used his sleeve to wipe up his face, but it didn’t do any good. The tears came faster. “It was so scary. And so I ran.” He gulped and sobbed. “She’s probably dead.”

  A surge of anger roiled inside his chest. He shook the kid. A little hard. “What do you mean? You just left her there?”

  “I didn’t know what to do!” The kid’s sobs turned into wails.

  “Is there a problem here?” Some nosy gentleman dressed in a spiffy suit eyed them. Along with other customers.

  Chris released Jeb and straightened up. “Nope. No problem.” Best to leave before the kid’s pa heard about it. Didn’t matter anyway. He got what he needed. He turned on his heel and headed out the door toward the Long Shot. He’d need a pick and a lantern if what the kid said was true. Good thing he knew where Chuck kept extra mining supplies. He raced through town and grabbed what he needed. His Maddy couldn’t be gone. It couldn’t be true. The boy just blew the story up in his mind.

  Chris reached the mine, stood for a moment trying to catch his breath. But he couldn’t wait any longer. His little girl was in there. As he entered the main shaft, the scent of freshly moved dirt filled his senses. Had there been a collapse? His heart plummeted and then beat even faster. The kid hadn’t been exaggerating. The pounding in Chris’s ears was deafening. What if Maddy was hurt? Or . . .

  No!

  He leaned over and put his hands on his knees, shaking his head against the negative thoughts. He drew in several deep breaths.

  It was all his fault. He was a failure. At everything.

  But he could find his daughter. He would.

  He straightened. “Maddy! Can you hear me, honey?”

  Dirt and rocks littered the shaft floor. This must be what Jeb was talking about. Chris held his lantern, watching every step for debris.

  “Maddy!”

  The minutes passed as he ventured deeper into the mine. Vast amounts of rubble now covered the shaft floor. Then he saw it. A wall of dirt and rocks in front of him.

  “Maddy! Are you in there?” He set the lantern down and felt the wall in front of him. It was loose. That was a good thing. But what if she was buried? What if more came down?

  “Maddy! Can you hear me?” He swung the pick at the obstruction in front of him, then pulled down. Maybe he could get it all to move enough so there would be a crack at the top. Or would it just continue to spill out?

  He had to take the chance. His gut told him his little girl was behind the wall. “Maddy, I’m coming.”

  For what seemed like an eternity, he chipped at dirt and rocks, all the while talking as if his daughter could hear him. She had to be there. She had to be.

  She was alive. He couldn’t fail her. Couldn’t fail his family. He’d already done enough damage.

  Sweat soaked his clothes even though the air was cool. Every muscle within his body screamed from the repeated motion of swinging and tugging, but he kept pulling at the pick with all he had. Could he even make a dent in the massive mountain of debris in fro
nt of him?

  “Maddy, I’m coming. It’s your dad. I’m here.”

  More dirt. More rocks. Another swing. Then another.

  “Honey, just talk to me. It’s going to be okay.”

  “Daddy?” The sound was muffled and weak, but it was her voice.

  Chris climbed up the wall to where he’d made a small hole at the top. He forced his voice through the opening. “Maddy, are you all right?”

  “It’s cold and I’m scared.”

  “Don’t move, I’m coming. Just keep talking.” He lifted the pick and pushed his aching muscles to move as fast as they could. How long had she been there? In the dark and all alone. His heart wrenched and he grimaced. If he had been home rather than at the saloon . . .

  Overwhelming thirst took over his mind. His tongue felt like cotton. If only he had a drink.

  He closed his eyes against the demons in his mind and swung the pick.

  Focus. He could get a drink later. After he rescued Maddy and got her home.

  “I wanna go home.” His little girl’s voice sounded so sad.

  “I know, honey. I’m coming. I am.” Another swing. The hole widened. If he could just go faster.

  “It’s so cold.” Her voice was shaky now.

  He didn’t have a lot of time. Swinging the pick for all he was worth, he chipped at the wall of dirt and rock. Over and over and over.

  Finally, the hole seemed big enough to get through. He peered into the expanse beyond, but it was all black. “Maddy? Where are you?”

  “Over here. The lantern went out.”

  “Can you see me? Can you climb up to me so I can pull you out?”

  “I’ll try.”

  He heard her movements but couldn’t see her in the pitch black. Until her hand grabbed onto his. Small and freezing cold, it was still a relief.

  “I’ve got you. Now push with your legs up the wall while I pull, all right?”

  “Okay.”

  As he pulled, he reached down with his other hand to get a better hold. Rumbling began around them.

  Maddy screamed.

  Dirt rained down.

  Chris yanked harder on his daughter. They couldn’t be buried alive––

  There! She was through the hole. He held her in his arms and grabbed the lantern as the rumbling grew louder. They had to get out fast.

  Running over the rough and debris-littered floor, Chris prayed for the first time in years. God, I know I’m not worthy of You listening to me, but if You help us out of this, I’ll turn my life around. I promise.

  Light from the entrance of the tunnel grew in front of him. The ground shook and rolled around them.

  Maddy ducked her head into his chest. Protectiveness and love poured through him. He’d have to follow through with his promise to God if they got out of this. And that wasn’t such a bad thing, was it?

  But he was so thirsty.

  Lungs pinching, Chris made it the last few steps out. As soon as he set Maddy down on the ground, a loud crashing made him turn back to the mine. A cloud of dirt and dust roared toward them. He ducked his head and covered Maddy.

  His heart pumped. They almost didn’t make it.

  Madysen started crying. Great big sobs. “Daddy . . . I was so scared.” She threw her little arms around his neck. “But I kept praying that God would send somebody to find me.”

  He clenched his eyes tight. What would he have done if the mine had collapsed on his daughter? The thought was almost too much to bear.

  “I love you, sweet girl. And I will always come to find you, no matter where you are. I’ll always be there for you.”

  ONE

  Thirteen years later

  Nome, Alaska—September 12, 1904

  The lively tune on the piano couldn’t keep up with the smile in Madysen’s heart. Too much heartache and grief had enveloped them for too long. But now boisterous laughter, off-key singing from some of the men, and plenty of lively conversation surrounded her as she surveyed the crowd. What a wonderful party. And it was all for her.

  Her twenty-first birthday.

  The sweet smell of baked goodies filled the air. Tables were packed with cakes, pies, and an array of other treats. How precious that these people cared for her so much.

  The Roadhouse was full to the brim, and she would sing with her sisters in a little while to keep all the patrons happy. They were, after all, used to the Powell sisters entertaining them. Herb told them often that the crowds at his Roadhouse were all credit to them. The thought made her smile. Madysen loved every minute of their performances.

  For a time they’d entertained every night but Sunday. It had been glorious. Singing and playing for hours.

  The performing had gotten her through the toughest times. Financially, it helped the family during Granddad’s bouts with apoplexy . . . but for her? It was life giving. Which made her miss it even more.

  But now that their financial worries were lessened, it only made sense to cut back on their performances since there were so many responsibilities at the farm. Granddad needed to recover fully from his illness, and Madysen had added an extra burden to everyone when she acquired the sheep. . . . But oh, how she missed performing every night.

  She smoothed the skirt of her favorite green dress, smiled, and received more well wishes, but she couldn’t quite bring her thoughts into the present. Maybe she longed to perform every night because it reminded her of Mama. Helped her feel connected to her somehow. She missed their mother so much.

  A burning sensation started at the back of her eyes. Not now. She couldn’t afford tears tonight. Even though grief was still fresh, she and her family desperately needed this bright bit of sunshine. It had been a hard summer.

  Forcing her mind to the present, she tapped her toe to Whitney’s vivacious piano playing and closed her eyes, letting the glorious sounds of a room full of joyful people fill her senses.

  This was how it should be. Everyone getting along. Laughter. Fun. Happiness. If only she could capture it all in a box and pull it out whenever she wanted.

  “I can’t wait to hear you gals sing tonight.” Toothless Jim’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Opening her eyes, she saw his familiar crooked smile. “Why, thank you, kind sir.” The old man never missed one of their concerts.

  His face flushed pink. “Aww, you always know how to make me feel like a gentleman. Now don’t ya go leaving us to tour the world. You got lots of fans right here. And we tip pretty good.” He held up a bag and shook it. The clinking of coins accentuated his laugh.

  Watching Toothless Jim walk away, Madysen tilted her head. Over the last few months, thoughts of performing beyond Nome had surfaced more often. A comment here or there from one of the newcomers to Nome surprised to find the Powell women’s musical talent in such a remote place . . . the memory of Mama encouraging them to use their musical talents because they were gifts from God and should be used for His glory . . . her constant dreaming of beautiful concert halls . . .

  It all sent her thoughts in that direction.

  Madysen had no problem imagining a life focused on her music, but could she actually think about leaving her family and Alaska? Obviously she couldn’t expect to perform full-time here at the Roadhouse. Nome wasn’t all that big . . . not like New York, Chicago, or London.

  “Madysen?” The voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she glanced up into her father’s hesitant eyes.

  Clearing her throat, she blinked several times. Was she ready for this? “Hi, Dad.”

  Some of the uncertainty left his face, and a slight smile lifted his lips. “I appreciate you inviting me.”

  She sent him a return smile. But not a full one. Why on earth did she invite him? It didn’t feel like a good idea anymore. He hadn’t been a part of their lives for over thirteen years, and then he just showed up in Nome. Madysen still couldn’t make sense of it.

  “I know this hasn’t been easy on any of you.” His voice cracked, then he looked around the room. Awk
ward couldn’t describe the interaction. “How’s Chuck?”

  “Granddad is getting stronger every day. Thanks for asking.” Eyeing Whitney’s fierce glare from across the room as she exited the stage, Madysen gave a little shrug to her eldest sister. Turning back to their dad, she straightened her shoulders. “I’m sorry. Please, if you’ll excuse me.”

  She wiped her hands on her skirt as she took a deep breath and headed toward her sisters, who were huddled in the corner near the stage.

  “What is he doing here?” Whit hissed the words.

  “I invited him. And don’t even ask me why.” Madysen let her exasperation with the whole situation tint her words as she waved her hands in front of her sisters.

  “You did?” Havyn and Whitney chimed together.

  “It was a bad idea, I know. But I guess I felt sorry for him when we didn’t invite him to the wedding, and somehow I ended up inviting him here.”

  Havyn’s red hair swung with the shaking of her head. “Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t blame this on me, or the fact I asked him not to come to the wedding. We all agreed it was for the best.”

  “I wasn’t blaming you. I’m sorry.” Madysen put a hand to her forehead. “I just felt guilty. How do I get myself into these things?”

  “You have a big heart.” Havyn glanced over to their dad. “We should probably take our cue from you, but frankly, it’s hard having him around. Without Mama.” Her words softened.

  Without Mama. No one said a word for several moments.

  Losing Mama tore at Madysen’s heart every hour of every day. Her world had tilted, and she wasn’t sure it would ever be upright again.

  “Look, I didn’t invite him to be nice or merciful, believe it or not. I’m not really sure why I sent the invitation. I feel sorry for him, yes, but in truth I’m also angry. I suppose I thought it might ease both.”

  Her brother-in-law, John, stepped closer. “I couldn’t help but overhear.”

  Madysen grimaced. “I’m sorry. To all of you.” She pressed her hands to her temples. “I shouldn’t have invited him.”