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Silver White Winters

Page 3

by Candice Sue Patterson

A woman screamed.

  Bodies shifted into action.

  Reporters and cameramen pushed their way to the main gate.

  Raelynn grabbed Mama’s hand and followed.

  The Hudson Mine rep walked toward the gate. Men trailed behind him, but they were too far away to recognize.

  Sirens split the night. Red and blue lights flashed in the darkness. Three ambulances parted the crowd as they drove to the gate opened by uniformed guards.

  Mama crushed Raelynn’s fingers in her own.

  Paramedics left the vehicles and ran to the approaching group.

  The crowd hushed.

  Raelynn slapped a hand over her mouth as she spied the miner’s uniforms, sooty skin. She almost didn’t believe the scene, afraid it was a mirage.

  “Daddy!”

  Raelynn looked up at the little girl next to her, propped on a man’s shoulders. Tears streamed down the child’s face as she yelled the word over and over.

  Raelynn’s body convulsed with sobs.

  Claps and laughter erupted. People hugged one another.

  Mama bounced up and down with girlish energy, nearly pulling Raelynn’s arm out of socket.

  The first miner limped beside a gurney, wheeled by a female EMT. His face, flooded by halogen light from the flagpole made Raelynn’s heart soar. “Billy!”

  She pulled away from Mama and sprinted to the gate, moving her way through the crowd. Guards blocked her way. “Let us in. That’s my brother.”

  The guards opened the gate wide enough for her and Mama to pass, intercepting reporters and activists attempting admission.

  Raelynn ran to her brother. “Billy.” She threw her arms around his waist.

  Billy groaned, but his arms squeezed like a vice. His body trembled. “Hey, sis.”

  Raelynn glanced at the gurney where Mama was sobbing on Daddy’s chest. The EMT had stepped back to give them privacy. Daddy returned Mama’s hug with cries fierce enough to make his entire body shake.

  Billy released her. He rubbed away his tears with the back of his hand, leaving patches of white behind. “Where’s Jackie?”

  Mama hugged Billy next. “Jackie’s at the hospital, but she’s fine. She started having contractions after the cave-in, and the doctor put her on bed rest.”

  Billy pulled away. The whites of his eyes glowed from his blackened face. “The babies?”

  Mama pulled a cellphone from her pocket. “They’re perfect. The contractions stopped. Everyone’s OK.” Her voice broke, and she pressed the phone into his palm. “Call her.”

  While Mama instructed him on how to use the speed dial to reach Jackie’s room, Daddy transferred his weak embrace to Raelynn. Too many years had passed since she’d snuggled in the comfort of his arms.

  “My baby girl,” Daddy whispered into her hair.

  Around them, others rushed to their loved ones in tearful reunions. Raelynn’s joy faltered as guilt shrouded her like the light from the flagpole. She’d been away from Eve Hollow far too long.

  Daddy reached for Mama’s hand. “Look here, Bridie. My baby girl’s come home.”

  Mama nodded, unable to speak.

  A blonde woman raced by, her shoes pounding pavement to an approaching gurney. “Lane?”

  Raelynn’s pulse stilled. She side-stepped her brother to witness one more reunion. Lane lay motionless on a stretcher. She put a hand to her throat and moved forward but stopped when she nearly collided with a tall red-head. Lane’s sister, Alice. The blonde—Lane’s wife?—and Alice both hovered over his body, their sobs audible. Raelynn’s panic eased as Lane’s arms rose around the women’s shoulders. Raelynn wanted to run into his arms, too. Thank him for keeping his promise. Cling to the comfort she’d always found there. But she was sure neither woman would appreciate the gesture.

  Loneliness, unlike anything Raelynn had ever experienced, overwhelmed her. What had she expected, for him to remain single all this time? No. Things were as they should be, just how she’d decided years ago she wanted them. But what does a girl really know at eighteen?

  Billy tugged her elbow, breaking her thoughts. He limped behind the EMT who’d returned and was pushing Daddy toward the ambulance.

  “How’s Jackie?” she asked for distraction.

  “Better now that she’s heard from me.”

  “I heard the doctors are getting quite an earful.”

  He smiled. “I’ll bet. The bigger the babies grow, the meaner she gets.”

  “Twins.” Raelynn grinned at the way Billy’s chest swelled. Doubles ran on both sides of the family.

  Billy’s arm wrapped around her shoulder and she leaned into him. Two years younger, he’d always been a pest, pulling her hair, teasing. The closest they ever came to a hug was a headlock. Funny how time and circumstances changed things.

  Wheels rattling against pavement filled Raelynn’s ears.

  Lane’s gurney passed on her left. Alice clung to his hand as she walked beside him, her long copper hair in disarray. His beautiful, blonde wife trailed behind, whimpering. Raelynn focused on Lane, needing to see for herself that he was OK. His intense brown eyes locked with hers, holding her captive.

  A blinding light stole Lane away.

  “Raelynn Rivers?”

  Raelynn squinted to adjust her vision. A TV reporter and a cameraman blocked her way. “Yes?”

  “I thought that was you.” The reporter tossed her glossy, brown hair over the shoulder of her blue coat. “I used to listen to your music all the time. Will you comment on what happened here today?”

  Used to.

  Raelynn ignored the stab of the reporter’s words and agreed so she could rejoin her family.

  The cameraman pointed, and the reporter asked Raelynn to explain her relationship to the men in the mines.

  Raelynn spoke briefly about Daddy and Billy, watching as they settled into the back of the ambulance.

  “If you could describe these men in one word, what would it be?”

  Raelynn’s gaze traveled to another ambulance where Lane was being lifted into the back. She swallowed to steady her voice. “Heroes. These men risk their lives every day so we can have electricity. They’re nothing short of heroes.”

  ~*~

  Warmth from the coffee mug seeped into Raelynn’s fingers. She raised the cup to her face and breathed the bold aroma. It wasn’t the imported gourmet coffee she was used to, but the mug’s faded flower pattern and the “#1 Mom”—which now read “1 Mo”—brought a smile to her lips that sweetened the flavor.

  Mama refused to get rid of the old thing. “My babies gave that to me for Mother’s Day,” Mama had said earlier as she spread several slices of bacon in a cast-iron skillet. “I’ll keep it until it won’t hold coffee anymore. Besides, that mug has matured along with me. It knows at my age what I need is one mo’ cup to keep me going.”

  The inky liquid wasn’t as bitter as Raelynn expected, so she took another sip and walked to the living room window.

  The cabin floor held the same creaks and groans from her childhood. It brought her comfort to know some things never changed. The smell of meat and fried eggs wafted her way from the adjoining kitchen.

  A heavy frost clung to the porch railing. The pink sunrise played against the mountain shadows, casting the hollow in a silvery sheen. She’d forgotten how beautiful winters in West Virginia were. Her little house in the big woods.

  Raelynn leaned on the window frame and pressed her temple to the cold glass. She’d passed many winter days sledding down these hills with Lane and her brothers, building snowmen, making homemade snow cream. Writing songs in her bedroom when school was canceled and it was too cold to play outside. She didn’t possess one memory without her best friend. High school sweetheart. Ex-fiancé. The image of Lane’s wife froze the hot coffee in her stomach. Their relationship, in every aspect, was gone. Has-been. Just like her career.

  Regret sure left a rancid aftertaste that soured the soul.

  Raelynn closed her eyes, hoping to clear h
er mind of the what-ifs. But as her traitorous heart often failed her, her mind conjured Lane’s gorgeous face, the cadence of his Irish accent, and those little moles on his cheek where she longed to press her lips.

  A sweet, calming melody played in her ears—pure, familiar. She kept her head against the glass, the entire side of her face numb. The notes, though new to her, seeded her fallow heart, and Raelynn hummed along as if she’d known the song her whole life. Words materialized with the music. The adrenaline that sparked through her body whenever she wrote songs popped and sizzled with the bacon Mama cooked in the kitchen.

  “Robin?” Mama’s gentle hand rubbed circles on Raelynn’s back.

  Like a knife slicing through a taut rubber band, the song disappeared. Raelynn opened her eyes.

  “You OK, baby?” Mama’s frown carved deep ruts around her mouth and between her brows.

  Raelynn fought the building frustration. That melody—where had it come from? Would she find it again? “Yeah, just tired.”

  True. The rollercoaster of emotions she’d ridden since she returned home a week ago was getting to her. The bathroom mirror had confirmed it earlier, showing dark circles beneath her sunken eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she lost a boxing match.

  Things would get better now. Daddy was home from the hospital, recouping from his concussion. Billy was nursing his broken ribs on bed rest. His wife was home now as well. Raelynn’s youngest brother, Keith, had called from Iraq a few days ago when he’d heard the news. The last time Raelynn had seen him, he was ten. Only the mischievous blue eyes of boyhood, focused straight ahead, remained in his Marine picture proudly displayed on the mantel. And Drew, the brains of the family, was flying in today from Atlanta, where he worked at an engineering firm.

  How they’d all survived under this tiny roof, she’d never know. No one but a selfish brat would stay away as long as she had.

  The family had weathered this crisis the way they had all the others—together. But it was over now.

  She could go back to her home in Tennessee and…do what? It wasn’t like anyone was waiting for her return. There was enough love inside this shack to fill the Taj Mahal, and she needed her family.

  Mama pried the coffee mug from Raelynn’s grip. “I’ll top this off. Come on and eat. You’re as skinny as the porch posts.”

  Raelynn settled at the table behind a heaping plate of bacon, eggs, and two golden biscuits topped with sausage gravy. Though the aroma made her salivate, her mind taunted her with a shuddering image of her barely clothed self in front of a mirror, large enough to qualify for a weight-loss reality show.

  Mama plunked a full mug beside the plate. “Go on before it gets cold.”

  “Oh…I’m not much of a breakfast person anymore.”

  “Nonsense. You were always a ravenous bear when you woke up in the mornings.”

  She still was, but the hunger pangs were tolerable now that she’d learned to ignore them.

  Mama turned to the stove and filled another plate with food. “Get busy. I’m gonna take this to your daddy.”

  Raelynn fought the urge to dump the food into the toilet like she’d done with her broccoli when she was a child. She bit her lip and stared at the greasy bacon. One bite wouldn’t kill her. Eating a little would make Mama happy, and Raelynn could always jog an extra couple of miles. She frowned at the brown strip, which seemed to be lengthening between her fingers.

  Footsteps sounded through the hall. Raelynn swallowed the guilt and crunched the thick meat between her teeth. She was extending her stay for healing, the love and support of family—giving and receiving. To find direction and purpose in her life. She had to stop sabotaging everything.

  “Good girl.” Mama patted her shoulder on her way to the sink. “Lick it clean. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us, and we won’t be eatin’ for a while.”

  Her fork cut through the soft biscuit. Raelynn had never licked a plate, but the heavenly taste of Mama’s sausage gravy had her considering it. “What’s going on today?”

  Mama halted her scrubbing on the skillet. “Dinner.”

  Raelynn made a face. Mama only made a big fuss over dinner on birthdays and holidays. “Is it Drew’s birthday?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s the occasion?”

  “Life.” Mama reached for a paper towel and sopped up the remaining skillet grease.

  “I’m…confused.”

  “Two of my babies are home, and with everything that happened last week, I thought we should celebrate. Thank the good Lord for His blessings. I’ve invited a few folks over—Uncle Willie and Bart and Netta Poe. Nothin’ fancy. Just a little git-together.”

  Mama’s words were rushed, clipped. Almost a growl. But Mama had been through a lot, nearly losing her husband and son, so Raelynn ignored her tone.

  Raelynn pushed away her plate, stuffed after eating only a quarter of the food. “All right. Let me get a shower, and I’ll help however I can.”

  “Good.” Mama faced her, neck and ears flushing red. Her smile wobbled. “It’ll be fun.”

  Then why did Mama look so guilty?

  4

  Lane slowed the truck to a stop. He put it in park and stared at the aged cabin. Smoke billowed from the stone chimney. Two rocking chairs sat in the corner of the porch, weathered, beaten. A testament to his insides—brittle and peeling. He released his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and exhaled. The last time he’d been inside that home was the night he barged in with the letter Rae left, raving like a crazy man, demanding to know where she’d gone. Why she’d left him without so much as a goodbye. A written farewell didn’t count. Not after their history.

  He cut the engine, killing the hot air cooking his feet. Sweat beaded the back of his neck. What was he doing here? Bridie might be the best cook in these parts, but a tasty meal wasn’t worth the feast his memories were having on his flesh. All week he’d wrestled with his demons, fought the rage he wanted to unleash, and told himself not to waste the energy. He had precious little as it was.

  It’d taken a year to learn how to function without Rae after she left, but he’d finally settled into a routine, concentrated on work and his relationship with God, even dated here and there, ready to let another woman in after a few years. Then he’d received a diagnosis that had sent him reeling. A beautiful wife and a houseful of kids were nixed from the equation.

  So, why was he here? Closure. He deserved an explanation, face to face—man to bulldog-stubborn woman. It had nothing to do with the way she’d looked at him while he’d passed by on the gurney. Like he was some superhero or sought out celebrity, making him wonder if she’d still fit perfectly under his chin when he held her, or if her lips still held a hint of strawberry lip balm.

  God help him, he was in trouble.

  Nah. Rae would go back to Nashville in a few days, and he’d go back to doing what he did best: taking life one day at a time.

  A knuckle tapped his window. If Lane hadn’t grown up with Drew, he’d never guess the man standing beside him in big city duds had been raised in the hollow.

  Lane got out of his truck. “Drew, good to see you.”

  Drew pumped Lane’s hand. Despite his fancy gold-rimmed glasses and dress coat with too many buttons, Drew’s grip was strong. “Yeah, you too. Though I admit, I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Me too.

  Willie Rivers, Rae’s great-uncle, opened the front door and stepped onto the porch, stroking his long, yellowed beard. “You-uns comin’ in or you gonna stand out yonder and recite poetry all night?”

  Bart Poe’s rattletrap crew cab pulled up and parked behind Drew’s compact car. Why any man would want to drive a car the size of a toy, Lane would never understand. Netta, Bart’s wife, climbed down from the rust bucket. Lane took the glass dish she held out and then offered his arm. The cheesy smell of whatever she’d cooked reminded Lane how hungry he was. But as they reached the front door, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by hi
mself in front of his big screen became mighty tempting.

  Bridie welcomed them with a smile. “Come on in. Don’t be strangers now.”

  She tossed her black braid behind her shoulders and reached for the dish Lane realized he was clutching like a life raft.

  “Sorry.” He passed it to her and wiped his hands down his jeans, sweaty from the hot dish, of course. The cabin walls closed around him.

  Bobby Joe waved from the recliner. The lump on his forehead had faded to a bruise, but he was still under strict orders to rest.

  Bridie looked down the hallway and sighed. “Where is that girl?” She moved down the short hallway and knocked on Rae’s bedroom door. “What’s takin’ so long? Everyone’s here. Come out and get their coats.”

  Netta, in no need of a coat over her black sweatshirt decorated with pumpkins, followed Bridie to the kitchen.

  Rae’s bedroom door creaked open, and there she was in all her big hair, country music glory, still the prettiest blasted thing he’d ever set eyes on. She-devil. Any other man would give his left arm to eat dinner with her, and all Lane wanted to do was shake her.

  “Drew!” Rae’s face lit brighter than the North Star. She threw her arms around her brother’s neck.

  When Drew’s face couldn’t turn any bluer, he pulled away and whistled. “If it isn’t country music sensation, Raelynn Rivers.” He stretched out her name like a game show host.

  Rae winced slightly, then returned a smile so wide her dimples joined in. “I don’t know about sensation, but it sure is wonderful to see you. It’s been too long.”

  Was that regret in her voice?

  Willie stepped forward, his knobby fingers curled around his pipe. “I don’t think nobody here would disagree with Drew. Do you, Lane?”

  Rae’s skin turned as pale as a corpse. Her huge brown eyes and open mouth told Lane she’d no idea he’d been invited to this shindig. Why was he here again? Oh yeah, closure. He nodded. “Rae.”

  As if to break the awkwardness, Drew handed her his coat. Bart did, too, then fled to the couch. Willie hiked up his pants on his skinny waist and watched the two of them with a dumb grin full of crooked teeth.

 

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