Forbidden by Susan Johnson (good books to read for teens .TXT) 📕

the next one might not operate if the water overtook it; older children, their apprehension for their fathers vivid on their young faces, tried to comfort their younger siblings; old women, who knew it would be a miracle if everyone came up alive, cried.

Blaze and Empress stood with the group, the night foreman at their side, waiting with the others for the cage to surface. The bell signaling ascent sounded again, focusing all eyes on the mine entrance. Some prayed, their lips silently mouthing the words of salvation, others moved from foot to foot, unable to composedly stand and wait the few remaining minutes. A small child cried, only to be hushed by its mother, and then a young boy's elated voice shouted, "Pa!" and a welcoming cheer rose as the men began walking out of the cage. The crowd surged forward in a wave of hope, each family searching for their loved one.

Scanning the men as they exited, Daisy's fingers unconsciously tightened on the reins, her breath in abeyance as she watched for Etienne. But he wasn't aboard the lift, nor was her father or brother. Beating down the ominous fear flooding her mind, she reminded herself that any number of reasons accounted for their absence, and she tried to enumerate the procedural steps required when water broke through. She knew as well as anyone a crew was left behind to operate the pumps. Dismounting, she skirted the happy families embracing the miners, and walked over to Blaze and Empress.

"Ten men are still down there, but the flooding's checked," Blaze said, not specifically naming their men but reiterating what Daisy already knew. "Come out of the wind." She indicated the timekeeper's structure, a small building adjacent to the mine entrance. And as they stood on the lee side, out of the wind, she filled Daisy in on what details she knew.

"2666 and 2433 levels are flooded out. Water started showing in the drill cores on the 2666 east drift early this morning."

"They've brought pumps down to 2200 level," Empress added, the fur hood of her coat framing her pale face.

"The crew's on 2200?"

"That's what Joe says. They're still monitoring the pumps. Do you think you should wait in town?" she added, worried about Daisy standing out in the cold.

"No." Daisy's tone of voice didn't allow for discussion.

"I had hot coffee and food brought out. It's been set up in the engine house. Why don't you wait inside," Blaze offered.

Daisy shook her head to all the offerings. "I'm warm. I'd like to go down."

"George isn't letting anyone down. On your father's orders," Blaze added as Daisy's expression turned obstinate.

"I'll talk to him."

But George Stuntz was adamant… polite, but firm. Hazard would have his skin if he allowed his daughter underground in the existing circumstances. He'd skin him first and then kill him. "Sorry, Miss Daisy," he repeated. "Your pa won't allow it."

So the three women waited at the mine entrance together with the families who still had men underground.

The inactivity was wearing on emotions, as was the uncertainty—not knowing what was going on thousands of feet underground. Not knowing if the rising water was gaining on the pumps. The unrelenting rhythm of the huge motors set up near the shaft was at least reassuring, as was the steady flow of water pouring out of the large pipes into the drainage ditches.

Since Joe Sherwood, the night foreman, and George stayed with them, the conversation centered on aspects of the salvage efforts. Daisy paced, unable to sustain the composure of Blaze, or the polite conversation of Empress. A more volatile personality, she balked at her uselessness. With her background, she understood mining operations as well as her father and brothers; she could help if George weren't so intractable. A sense of frustration augmented the anxiety gripping her senses, driving her restless tread. With long strides of her leather-trousered legs, she crossed and recrossed the area in front of the entrance to the mine, the skirts of her coat swinging out behind her as she traversed the rough ground.

Although it seemed an eternity, less than an hour had passed when the skip bell rang and the steel cables began humming—indication of an ascending cage. An interminable interval passed�each second stretching endlessly as the hoist brought the lift up the shaft.

Steam rose from the wet clothes of the men exiting the cage as they walked out into the brisk autumn air, their faces barely recognizable beneath the grime, their shoulders sagging with weariness. Seven men, immediate calculation computed in dozens of brains. As though the counting brought everyone up safely.

"The water stopped," the first man said, "just short of the pumps." Oddly, his voice held no elation.

He was too tired, Daisy thought, to show enthusiasm. But where were the rest? Where were their men?

"Where's Hazard?" Blaze demanded, her composure shaken, her voice taut with terror.

"He'll be up soon," a man answered.

"And Trey?" Empress queried, her voice equally fearful.

"He's with him."

Empress sagged against Blaze's shoulder.

Daisy's eyes met those of the man answering Empress, and her own words of inquiry caught in her throat.

He avoided her gaze after their initial contact, his glance sliding away.

"Etienne?" Daisy's voice barely carried over the sound of the motors, a suffocating dread already filling her throat, closing off her breath.

"They're looking for him."

Only sheer willpower kept her standing.

Hazard and Trey came up to the surface twenty minutes later, after a new crew had gone down to man the pumps, after they'd carefully explored the Alaska shaft at the 2200 level—a futile exercise under the circumstances with four hundred feet of water flooding the mine. But they had to make the effort, however futile, against the remotest chance.

When they stepped out of the cage, the people remaining outside were subdued. Word of the tragedy had spread.

Daisy stood with Blaze and Empress, her red wool coat a splash of color against the earth tones of the mine landscape, a contrast as well to the dark fur wraps of