The Escort - By Gina Robinson Page 0,41

job to pay their share of the costs. May Hall cooks for the Colonel, her husband Al drives a locomotive. Gus Preston quit his job at the dairy to work full time in the mine. He pays by sweat equity. A couple of years ago he was solely responsible for all of the drilling that was done."

"And you?"

"I have a small inheritance from my uncle, I mean, my father. And I work in the tunnel."

Angelina's mind whirled with possibilities. Mining intrigued her. "What kind of expenses?"

"Supplies—food, kerosene, tools, explosives. Assaying fees. And of course labor. Which right now is running about sixty-five man days a month at the going rate of $3.50 per day. We pay union scale. Many of our partners are strong union supporters and we don't want any violence.

"There's a labor war brewing in the Valley. Small skirmishes break out from time to time. But sooner or later, it will be an all-out war. The union wants the big mines like the Bunker to pay scale. The big mine owners are refusing, paying their men much less. They won't come to a meeting of the minds without violence."

His talk frightened her. She wondered about Mr. Allessandro. Could he have been hurt in one of those skirmishes? Could he be in danger? Could Tonio?

"Idaho miners are a breed unto themselves and not a civilized one. They blew up the Frisco in ninety-two, that's what I mean by war. A Pinkerton agent was called in to root out those responsible. Since then there's been no love lost between the owners and their employees. We pay scale, but if the men get violent there's no guarantee we'll be protected. Mob mentality has a life all its own."

"So you and your partners plan to remain neutral and hope for the best. What if they blow up the big mines and leave yours alone; will it affect you?"

He smiled, pleased with her interest and acuity. "It will if they blow up the rail lines or the assay office or threaten our men."

"You really think you'll strike it rich?"

"Noah Kellogg, the old prospector whose jackass discovered the Bunker Hill and Sullivan vein, did. When we find the twin vein, we'll mine it ourselves and make much more than old Noah ever dreamed of."

"It seems to me that if an ass," she emphasized the word, "can find silver, then you ought to be able to."

He laughed outright at her insult and replied lightly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"What happened to the jackass? Maybe he could help you, too."

"Dead."

"Too bad." She watched him pick up his papers as he prepared to return to work. "Tonio, why did you agree to take me to the mining country?"

"A woman should be allowed to pursue her dream, no matter what the consequences might be. I'm liberal-minded enough to want you to have that chance."

He adjusted the ledger in his lap.

"The mine is your dream?"

"For now, yes."

She nodded. "I believe in your gut. You will find that galena and be rich. You won't forget your old friend then, will you?"

"Angel, I'll never forget you."

To her surprise, Tonio set his ledger down and left without saying another word.

Angelina walked the entire length of the train before she found him, sitting cockeyed on the rail of the caboose. She watched him from the doorway, studying him as he poured some kind of powder from a small vial onto tiny sheets of thin paper. Then he twisted the paper closed and threw them over the rail. His eyes lit up as he watched the small, paper bombs fly overboard and hit the ground.

His profile was strong and proudly Roman. His dark hair blew in the breeze. He was so absorbed with his game that he didn't notice her. Something about his passion for it scared her. He seemed too fascinated by the power of his small creations.

"What are you doing?"

He answered without starting or turning to face her. "Entertaining myself. I wondered how long you'd stand in the door without speaking."

"I didn't think you noticed me."

"No one sneaks up on me, not since the war." A sudden updraft blew his hair up, above his collar, exposing his scar.

She shuddered at the reminder of the violence he'd suffered.

He turned to face her. "Not that I ever wouldn't notice you, Angel." His voice was warm and sultry. It was strange that his formal, educated Italian fell pleasantly on her ears.

He held out his hand to her. She accepted it and he pulled her