Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(29)

"Son," he asked anxiously, "Son. Can you hear me? Are ya awake?"

In answer the boy began to cry. "Ya came," he sobbed. "Ya came."

"It's all right." Clark soothed him, brushing the dirt and debris from around his head and brushing his hair back out of his face. "It's all right. Where are ya hurt? Can ya get up."

"My leg," sobbed the boy. "My leg is caught under thet beam."

"We'll git it out. We'll have it out in no time. Ya jest hang in there."

"Abe," said the boy. "Did ya git Abe yet?"

"Not yet," answered Clark.

Clark began to feel around in the darkness. He had to discover just what was holding the boy's leg. He found the beam,



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a big piece of timber, too thick and too long for him to be able to tackle without some kind of tool.

He went on searching, feeling around for the other boy. Carefully he made his way over the rubble and back again, the sharp stones cutting into the flesh of his palms. Nothing. He crawled on. He nearly missed it; but, just as his hand slid over some rocky debris, he felt something soft to the touch. It was a boot. Clark allowed his hand to search out the area. The boy was almost totally buried under the cave-in. Clark began to dig away at the rock and dirt, trying not to dislodge any more of the tunnel wall in his haste.

At length he brought forth an arm. He dug on, frantically searching out the place where the head might be, eventually uncovering it. He longed for a light. If only he could see to discover the condition of the boy. His hands traced over the temple, the face, the back of the head and back again. They told him all that he needed to know. Clark crawled back to Andy.

"Andy," he said. "Andy. Ya still with me, boy?"

The boy groaned his answer.

"Andy, I've gotta try to git yer leg out. Now, I can't move thet there beam. It's too big an' heavy an' I don't have anything to cut it with. I'm gonna have to try to dig out from under yer leg and git it out thet way. It's gonna hurt, Andy. Can ya take it?"

Andy was crying again. "Yah," he said. "We gotta git out. These timbers keep creakin' like they're gonna break ag'in."

Clark crawled around, feeling for a sharp rock. He found one that he thought would make a tool of sorts and began to dig around the boy's leg. At first he worked far enough away from the boy that the digging did not bother him, but as the rubble was gradually cleared away, the leg began to shift and the boy moaned in pain. This turned into a tortured scream, but Clark dug on, trying his hardest to be as gentle as he knew how. He must get him out, and quickly, for the boy was right: Clark, too, could hear the timbers snapping and creaking and feared that, at any time, they might give way and pour forth more rocks and earth.

It seemed forever to Clark until he had a hole clawed away beneath Andy's foot deep enough to coax the boy's ankle out.



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He would have to slip off the boot in order to make the foot squeeze under. Pulling off the boot from the broken foot made Andy scream again in pain. Clark almost succumbed to the cries and stopped twisting, but he knew that he would be signing the boy's life away if he did. He had dug away the earth to sheer rock. He could make the opening no bigger for the injured ankle to pass through. If Andy was to be freed, he must pull him loose now. Clark gritted his teeth, took the foot as gently as he could, and forced the injured leg out from under the beam. Mercifully, Andy fainted. Clark wiped dirt from the boy's face and loosened his collar. Then he picked him up gently and started carefully back up the tunnel.

Stumbling along in the darkness, feeling his way with an outstretched toe, bumping against rocks and beams that obstructed the path was treacherous going. The steep steps upward were the most difficult. One time he had to slide the boy up ahead of him, then claw his way up behind him and go on again. On and on he stumbled and fought until at least he could sense, more than see, the tunnel to his right. He breathed a thanksgiving prayer and hurried on. The tunnel floor was smoother now and walking was easier. Soon Clark passed the second tunnel as well. If only the men from the ranch would be there with a light and some shovels.

And then, just ahead, Clark saw the opening of the mine. He hastened forward and burst out to fresh air and glaring sunshine. The boy was sitting in the shade on the same rock where Clark had seated him. He sprang to his feet when Clark made an appearance.

"Ya found Andy!" he cried. "Andy. Andy, ya okay?" He was crying again. "Is he dead, mister?"

"Naw," said Clark. "He's okay. He's got a busted foot, but he'll be okay. Run over there to my saddle an' git thet there canteen. He needs a drink." The boy ran away in a flash.

Clark laid the boy gently on the ground in the shade. He stood to full height and looked off in the direction of the ranch. In the distance he could see whirls of dust. They were on their way. He couldn't wait. The timbers might give way at any moment and then the other boy, Abe, would be buried deep within the mine shaft.



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He turned to the boy who was kneeling beside his friend Andy, trying to help him with a few swallows of water.

"Listen," he said. "They are on their way here now. See thet dust over there? It's gonna take 'em awhile to git here. I want ya to take good care of Andy 'til they come, an' when they git here you just tell 'em to wait out here fer me. Ya understand? I know where Abe is, an' I'm gonna go git 'im."