Daughters of the Summer Storm by Frances Statham (good fiction books to read TXT) 📕

"You were foolish to be lured inside, Marigold," he said.

His words made no sense to her. He acted as if he had seen her coming into the mine. But that was impossible. Shaun had to have been farther back inside the mine than she, with no way of knowing.

"Crane told me you had been hurt."

"And you came in, without using that brain of yours, without once stopping to think that he might be setting a trap for you. . ."

"I was only thinking of you, Shaun," she confessed, hurt at his anger toward her.

He took the lantern and helped Marigold from the tunnel floor. But Shaun could not stand up straight because of his height. If their situation had not been so tragic, Marigold would have laughed at his caveman stance.

Shaun threw the pickax through the opening he had dug and then helped Marigold, handing the lantern to her on the other side. She did not question his taking her deeper into the mine.

"How long do we have before the air gives out?" she asked as she stopped to rest.

"There should be no danger of that. The build-up of gases should be well behind us."

She started walking again. Marigold was thirsty. And hungry. How long could they last before finally starving? She must not think about it. But the small tunnel closed around her, and she felt as if she were suffocating. The fear of the dark enclosure made her arms tingle, her heart beat erratically. She could not go on. She was ready to scream out her fear, but her voice erupted into a small, dismal moan.

"We're almost there, Souci," Shaun assured her, as the last flicker of light from the lantern vanished in the darkness.

Marigold stumbled and reached out for Shaun. Almost where? Heaven? Hell? She was so frightened. In anguish, she held to Shaun and whispered, "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die, Souci. Hold onto me. It's probably only a few more yards."

"To where?"

"Why, to the outside."

"But there's no other way out, Shaun. We're trapped."

"No, Marigold. There is another way out. You don't think I'm a complete idiot, do you? I never totally trusted Crane, and after that day I came upon the two of you down here—and he had obviously forced you to come—I had the men dig another exit—one that Crane knew nothing about." His voice was soothing in the darkness.

"Today, when Crane disappeared during the final inspection, I walked on and climbed out of the hidden exit—and waited to see what he was going to do. And then I saw you—running into the entrance. I should have shouted to you then to stay out. But Crane was directly behind you, and it was too late."

Her laugh bordered on hysteria. A vast relief swept over Marigold. Thanks to Shaun, she would see the sunlight again.

A small chink let in light from the end of the tunnel. Marigold crawled with Shaun the last few feet, holding onto his shirt, while he dragged the pickax with him.

The sun poured through the hole, and Marigold gazed up at the sky. Shaun pushed her upward, and she climbed through to the top of the hillside. Amid the bare-branched landscape, Shaun took her in his arms and held her. She dug her face into his dusty shirtfront and cried.

Shaun instructed the slaves to begin digging. He told Marigold to go back to the house, but she could not. Juniper sat with her a short distance away from the mine and wrapped the heavy black shawl around the shivering young woman.

Crane was inside the collapsed mine—that much she knew. The shovels cleared away the dirt; the men lifted the crossbeams and set them out of the way—and continued with their clearing of the earth around the entrance of the mine.

For an hour, Marigold sat, while they worked. Shaun and Sesame had joined in the rescue efforts. And when the big man disappeared through the dark hole that had been made, Marigold stood to protest.

She remained standing, with Juniper at her side, holding her hand. And the slaves stood back, silent and watchful.

The wind increased, soaring through the bare-branched limbs on the hillside, and overhead, the black crows flew. A cloud passed over the sun and then the wind died—almost as if it too had stopped to watch and listen.

An eternity passed, with life and time suspended, before Shaun came out of the mine. In his arms he carried the limp body of Crane Caldwell.

Marigold, seeing Shaun, gave a cry of relief. Juniper, mistaking the meaning, clasped the girl to her mammoth bosom, as if to protect her from seeing too much.

Crane was dead. Caught in his own trap, he had not been able to escape. Shaun, leaning over to cover the man with the tarpaulin, saw the locket in his hand. The auburn-haired man removed it and put it in his pocket to return to its rightful owner.

Late the next afternoon, Shaun sat in the parlor with Marigold, the fire on the hearth still unable to take away the cold.

"Do you have everything you need?" he asked.

"Yes."

They waited for Sesame to bring the carriage to the front. She had no wish to remain at Cedar Hill another minute. And Shaun had been kind enough to offer to escort her back to Charleston to her parents.

He looked at tMarigold in the pale green silk dress and he seemed satisfied. But she was embarrassed. Her swollen breasts made a mockery of the neckline, and the material over her rounded stomach was tight, emphasizing her condition. But Shaun had instructed her to take nothing from the plantation that Crane had given her. "You will take no more than you came with, Marigold," he had said. "This part of your life is finished, and you need no reminders of your unhappiness."

He held the black bombazine cloak for her—the one she had wrapped herself in that night in the garden when she had waited for Shaun