When it finally dissipated, he got to his feet. The room spun and dipped. Despite his best efforts, his weakness was evident because Alaina was there in a second, helping to support him. Jack inhaled deeply and let his breath out in a measured exhale.
“Jack, are you sure this is a good idea?”
He pasted on a smile. “If I fall down, just cover me with a blanket.”
“How’s your head feel?”
“Better than it has.” He didn’t mention the fact that it throbbed terribly now that he was upright.
At Alaina’s insistence, he took small steps, knowing her eyes were glued to his face for any sign of weakness.
Lord, help me to do this so she can stop worrying about me.
When they finally reached the entry, Jack prompted Alaina to keep going. “I’m doing pretty good. Let’s get outside.” As soon as he emerged into the sunshine, a myriad of odors assaulted his nostrils and almost drove him to his knees.
Alaina immediately jumped into action and directed him toward an empty crate. “Sit.”
“It’s terrible,” he murmured.
“It’s worse up on the hills. What you see down here are mostly visitors who have come in to help. Up on the hill where I’ve been helping, that’s where the people—the survivors—are. They’re like lost souls, hollow and empty. Some just stare, others cry, but all of them are afraid, constantly searching for those they lost.”
“I want to see more.” His mind went to Robert. It felt like such a dream. He would never forget Robert’s face or the terror of being pulled by an unseen current.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. And there’s something else I need to tell you.”
❧
Alaina listened as Jack talked. At first she had thought he’d simply felt a need to ease his own mind about the nightmare he’d endured, but then his tone changed, and he visibly tensed.
He talked of his ride through Johnstown on his simple plank of wood, being twisted by the ebb and flow of the water and pounded against objects in his way. He paused for breath.
She touched his cheek. “You can tell me the rest later. It’s all over with, Jack. You’re safe.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, and his breathing became ragged. When he pressed her hand against his cheek, it was with greater force than necessary. “You don’t understand, Alaina. It was terrible. And there was someone I tried to save. I tried to get him to jump—” His voice broke, and his free hand clenched into a fist. “I never understood what you meant by ‘people mean more than things’ until I saw him.”
She froze, mesmerized by the power of his emotion.
“It all came to me. The job, the inventions. Forgetting you. Saving people—” His jaw clenched, and a storm of emotion darkened his eyes.
“Because you couldn’t do anything?”
“No. Because I could, would have, but the pull of the water was too strong. I felt like a rag doll being pulled apart and tossed. I called to him to jump, but he sneered at me. He was afraid. I could hear his fear. Taste it.”
Alaina’s mind shuffled through a list of people whom Jack considered friends. “One of the men at Cambria?”
“No.” His face contorted. “No. Robert. I was trying to save Robert.”
Alaina sat stunned. She turned her hand in his and twined them.
“He wouldn’t listen. The house moved and it. . .it twisted. My head hurt so much, but I knew I had to get Robert off that roof.”
Her heart lifted as she began to understand what it was Jack was trying to tell her.
“It sucked me away from him and I—I don’t know. I think I yelled at him one more time to jump, but it was gone. He was gone.” He released her hand and covered his face. “I floated for a long time, and all I could think was that I’d been so wrong. So dumb. Selfish.” He lowered his hands, his red, swollen eyes searching hers. “I knew, then, how much Frank was right.”
“Frank?”
For the first time, the semblance of a smile curved Jack’s lips. “Yes. He told me I was an idiot. That I was treating you badly. I kept defending myself and everything that I was doing, thinking that was somehow more important. Having money. . .” He lifted his eyes to the devastation. “I see it now.”
“Oh, Jack.”
He turned to her and cupped her face. “Can you forgive me? For all those times I put riches ahead of your heart?”
“You thought what you were doing was right.”
Jack pressed a finger against her lips. “Don’t defend me. I hurt you. Not once, not twice, but again and again and again. So determined to have money that I never once listened to what you told me so often. You didn’t want to be rich.”
She pressed her hand against his. “I still don’t.”
“Then marry me, Alaina. Marry me, and this time I’ll get it right.”
Thirty-two
June 9, 1889
After another good night’s sleep, Jack accompanied Alaina to the clearinghouse again. They scoured the names for any sign of Charlotte Morrison, but still no one had registered by that name.
Alaina closed her eyes in defeat.
“You left directions where you’re staying. Frank’ll find you. Give the rescue workers and Frank some more time,” Jack murmured.
He was right, of course. She’d made sure a nurse at the temporary hospital and one at the Red Cross hospital knew where to find her, but days had passed, and she was more worried than ever that Frank had lost heart because the news wasn’t good.
And then there was Jack’s proposal. He had recognized her hesitation and been sensitive to her reasoning in waiting for news of her mother. But his actions went a long way toward proving his sincerity. He sought her out every morning to check on her, then went off to work at the bridge to help clean up the terrible mass of wreckage.
If only she could say “yes” and feel clear, but she didn’t.
“You’ve got that look again,” Jack said softly, his eyes shining their concern. “I told you, Alaina, I’ll wait for you. You’re right to want news of your mother.”
She sighed. “It seems so wrong to feel happy in times like these.”
Jack’s gaze drifted toward the wreckage at the bridge and over to Cambria Iron. She saw his Adam’s apple bob and knew he understood.
Even almost a week since the tragedy, there was still so much grief and chaos. Fear of disease ran rampant. The stench in the air was almost unbearable. So many people had come in from other areas of the country that familiar faces were too few and far between.
Unless you went to the morgue or hospital.
Alaina patted Jack’s arm. “I need to check on Sam, then get over to the tent.”
Jack nodded and touched her cheek briefly. “You know where I’ll be.”
She smiled at the tenderness in his eyes, and thankfulness washed through her that God had spared Jack. “I know.” She paused, then said, “I love you, Jack Kelly.”
❧
When Jack came to the tent for supper, he took a moment to watch Alaina, as he had watched her all those days ago at the South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club.
She bent next to a small child and tried to coax a smile from the boy’s solemn mouth. She plucked bread from the dishpan she carried and set it on the table. The boy nibbled on the edges and continued to watch Alaina as she talked, engaging the small group of children in some story or another.
His day had been long. The dynamite used to blow apart the debris at the bridge had done the job, but the mess had to be hauled away, long, muscle-aching work. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. To make things worse, his head still beat a dull throb against his skull, making every movement that much more painful.
But watching Alaina, he took comfort in her beauty and gentleness, her faith and the fervency with which she worked. Why hadn’t he seen it before? She emptied herself to help other people and never expected much in return. She’d done it by loving him, even as he had shunned her.
> When Alaina spotted him, she gave him bread, while another woman set a succulent slice of ham in front of him. Yet another lady arrived to ladle coffee into a tin cup.
He caught Alaina’s eye. “You’ll sit with me, right?”
“I can’t. There are so many others who need—”
The woman ladling out the coffee nodded toward another girl. “Liz just came in. Take a break and talk to the nice young man.” Her eyes held a twinkle as she stared between Alaina and Jack. “It’ll do us all some good to see that life goes on.”
Jack took his time eating, the background noise of hammers and axes, whistles and bells, and the crackling of the bonfires a constant reminder of the tragedy. Still, Jack was thankful for the noise and preferred to think of what it meant. Progress. Rebuilding.
He savored every bite and every minute he could be with Alaina. But no matter how comforted he felt in her presence, another harsh reality kept nibbling at him. What would he do? Cambria would be up and running again, he was sure, but did he want to stay here? It seemed right to start over. Fresh. Away from the misery. If Charlotte lived, they could take her with them. If not, it might be even greater wisdom for him to get Alaina away from here.
But where?
“Money is pouring in from all over to help Johnstown rebuild,” Alaina offered.
“So I’ve heard. They’re paying the new men two dollars a day.”
Alaina shifted in her seat and poked a bite of ham with her fork. “What will it be like after all this? Will Johnstown be the same?”
“I think that’s the question on everyone’s mind. It’s been on mine a lot.”
“Do you want to work for Cambria again?”
He thought of the promotion and of Robert’s attitude when he got it over Jack. Where hot anger used to consume him at the thought of being passed over, and where once his anger spilled out on Robert, now there seemed nothing but a chasm, devoid of all feeling save one. Sorrow.
It dawned on him then that he didn’t know the answers. No one did. But his faith would carry him through each day. One at a time.
“All I know right now is that I want to help. To see people rebuild and get back on their feet. From there, I’ll let the Lord lead.”
His peripheral vision caught a familiar figure. He turned in time to see Frank duck into the tent and gaze around at the people. Jack raised his hand to indicate to his friend where they sat. He flicked a glance at Alaina and saw the instant strain tighten her lips.
The big man negotiated through the tables and dropped into a chair beside Jack.
“It’s about time you showed your face. You’ve had Alaina worried.”
Frank grimaced and rubbed his leg. “It’s been a long haul. I stopped to help some along the way, and it delayed me. When I got there, it took me a while to go ’round and see who of the Johnstown folk was there.” His eyes shifted to Alaina. Dark and piercing.
Jack tensed.
“I found your mother.”
Alaina gasped and closed her eyes.
Frank rushed on. “But it’s not good, Alaina. She’s. . .” The big man licked his lips and stabbed a panicked look at Jack.
Alaina opened her eyes. A question hung there.
“She doesn’t remember anything, and she doesn’t say much. It’s like it stole something from her.”
Jack reached a hand out to clasp Alaina’s, but she pushed to her feet, her face set. “I must go see her. Frank, you’ll take me to her. Jack?”
It seemed to him in that moment that she would shatter completely.
“I’ll take you there,” Frank promised.
Jack rose and rounded the end of the table. He stood close to Alaina and pressed her cold hands between his warm ones. “Seeing you will bring her back. I’m sure of it, sweetheart.”
Thirty-three
Despite Jack and Alaina’s efforts, her mother remained cloaked in silence. She lowered her hand from her mother’s forehead and hugged herself before glancing over at Jack. “Can you think of anything else to try?”
He shook his head. There was an edge of desperation in Alaina’s voice that tugged at his heart. He’d been startled by Alaina’s mother’s appearance. Her once-full figure had thinned to little more than bone.
Mrs. Bledsoe, the farmer’s wife who had so kindly cared for Charlotte, could shed little light on her condition. “When she came here, she was like that. Just wandering. Must have been three days ago that Ben found her and brought her here. She’s not ate more than a piece of bread, or said two words put together.” The woman’s brown eyes were solemn. “Seems I’ve seen the same look on many other faces lately. Such a tragedy.”
The woman had left them alone, with Alaina chattering at her mother, sharing details of her trip to Pittsburgh. Seeing Pitcairn’s private car. The way the people dressed. The noise of the city. And on and on. But all her efforts failed and now she looked to him.
It struck Jack as a deep irony that Alaina, who knew how much her mother disliked him, would think he might be able to penetrate the wall Charlotte had retreated behind. What could he say? His heart beat hard as he knelt. Lord, grant me wisdom.
“Hi, Mrs. Morrison. Alaina and I are going on a picnic and want to take you along. If you don’t mind, Frank and Missy will join us. It’ll be fun.”
That was it. His mind shut down, and he couldn’t think of another thing to say, so he swept to his feet and faced Alaina, keeping his voice low. “Would you mind asking Mrs. Bledsoe if she could spare a bit of food?” He fished out a few coins and pressed them into Alaina’s palm. “Give these to her. Perhaps they’ll help.”
“But what good will a picnic do?”
Jack didn’t really know. “I thought maybe if we could be together, normal again, maybe it would help her. We’ll go out onto the other side of the hill, away from Johnstown, where the view is nice.”
Alaina nodded. “Yes. I think it might help. Everything that happened is too much. It’s the same sense I got with one of the women I ministered to on the hill.”
Jack squeezed her hand, then released it. “Good. And Alaina. . .”
She caught the tender light in his eyes.
“We’ll pray.”
❧
The Bledsoes offered Alaina a room to stay with her mother. Upon hearing that Charlotte was a seamstress, it was Mrs. Bledsoe’s idea to gather together a few scraps and a needle and put them into Charlotte’s fingers. “Make her feel normal again,” the farmer’s wife reasoned.
At first Alaina noticed little things. Her mother ate a bit more, and she would massage the material between her fingers, and those things gave Alaina hope.
In the evenings, Jack would come up with Frank, Missy, and a mending Sam, and they would help Alaina take her mother to the little section of woods that had become their special spot. They did their best to keep the conversation away from news of Johnstown.
In the wooded spot, surrounded by a giggling Sam and Missy and watching as her mother watched the children, Alaina allowed the worry to erode her confidence.
Jack leaned forward and tapped her head. “You’re thinking too much. You’ve got that worried wrinkle between your eyes.”
She leaned back against him, allowing him to support her weight. “Sometimes I wonder if she’ll ever smile again. Or laugh. Even do her sewing. Aunt Jo wants me to bring her to Pittsburgh.”
“She’s a kind woman, but I think you’re going to be your mother’s best chance of recovery. We should stay together.”
“Do you think we should all go out to Pittsburgh? She wouldn’t mind.”
Jack didn’t answer for so long that she finally shifted to look over her shoulder at him. Blue eyes captured hers. A small smile quivered on his lips.
Alaina became aware of the fact they’d spent very little time without being surrounded by her mother or Frank and the children. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”
“A most brilliant idea.”
Alaina laughed and shifted away from him.
<
br /> He swept to his feet, steadying her rise and retaining his grip on her hand.
Frank’s eyes smiled over at them from where he sat talking to Charlotte.
Jack chuckled and whispered to Alaina, “I think he approves.”
They walked in silence. Alaina noted the change in direction, away from the Bledsoes’ farm, and wasn’t surprised when they came out on the hill overlooking Johnstown. Though still terribly scarred and riddled with debris, progress had been made.
“Will it ever be the same?” she whispered.
“In many ways, no. But change doesn’t mean it’s better or worse. Only different.”
A cool breeze washed by her, and she leaned her head back to stare up at the sky. “It seems so strange that life goes on despite everything.”
Jack didn’t seem to hear. He walked on a few steps more and stopped, his body silhouetted against the sky.
She studied him and realized his shirt looked new and his suspenders, though frayed, weren’t nearly as gnarled as the last pair. Even his trousers were less tattered. People had sent in used clothing from all over. “There must be a terrible need for clothing,” she murmured to herself, as an idea dawned. If she could manage to secure some bolts of material, she could, with Mrs. Bledsoe’s help, put together clothes for the victims. But her thoughts stopped there only briefly. Jack’s posture let her know that something was wrong. “Jack?”
He faced her. “I have something to tell you.”
She swallowed. Maybe in the time she’d been so preoccupied with her mother he had found someone else down in Johnstown. But no, it couldn’t be. Jack loved her.
He advanced on her with an amused expression. “You’ve got that worried line again. Why?”
Embarrassed, she looked away. “I thought you were going to tell me you’d found someone else?” But it came out more a question than a statement, and she cringed.
Jack’s hand captured her chin and tilted her face back toward him, his blue eyes darkened with disappointment. “How could you think that?”
“We haven’t had much time together.” She flushed. “Your clothes look new.”
Promise of Tomorrow Page 15
