Stealing Jake - By Pam Hillman Page 0,84

happens to him? If this man finds out he’s talked to us, he’ll—”

Jake stopped the flow of her words with a finger to her lips. “Shhh. He’ll be fine.” He pulled her to him, wrapping her in strong arms.

Livy wanted to resist. She was no good for Jake. But she didn’t. She closed her eyes and let him hold her. She rested her hands against his shirt, feeling the solid warmth of him through the fabric and drinking in the strong comfort of his arms.

“I sure could . . . hmmm . . . use a cup of coffee,” Doc Valentine interrupted.

Livy jumped away from Jake, heat blistering her face. She hurried to the stove, not daring to look at the doctor.

“How’s the boy?” Jake asked.

Livy concentrated on the coffee, glad he could ask a coherent question while she gathered her wits. Hopefully, the absentminded doctor hadn’t noticed a thing.

“Hmmm . . . resting,” the doctor mumbled while sipping his coffee.

“Is anything broken?”

The doctor shrugged, and Livy strained to hear his almost-unintelligible words. “A broken arm, a knot . . . head . . . cracked ribs. Hmmm . . . touch and go . . . next week or so. And . . . uh . . . bruises. Bruises head to toe.”

Livy winced. “What do you think happened?”

The doctor took a sip of coffee before answering. “Looks like he fell down . . . a mine shaft.”

* * *

“Doc thinks he fell down a mine shaft.”

The six miners seated at one of Emma’s tables stared hard at Jake.

“What are you getting at, Jake?”

Jake took a sip of coffee. “If anybody’s using child labor in the mines, you guys would know about it.”

Perkins shook his head. “There are a couple of twelve-, thirteen year-old boys working as trappers up at the Copper Penny, but they’re being treated as fair as anybody else. Maybe even better. Everybody looks after those two youngsters.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“There’s a new bunch near Cooperstown that might be doing such a thing. But I haven’t heard any rumors.”

After talking with the men, Jake saddled up and headed out to the mine Perkins had mentioned. The discovery of coal in the area had brought more business to Chestnut than even the railroad. The prospect of more people meant more business for everyone, but for every decent, hardworking coal miner who came to work, there were twice as many hard-drinking, lazy bums right alongside.

And as many greedy businessmen who didn’t care who got hurt or killed in the process.

A hastily assembled shack squatted at the entrance to the mine, smoke curling in lazy circles around the shingled roof. Jake dismounted and tied his horse to a hitching post. He started toward the shack, rubbing his hands together. It was a mite cooler here, and the snow hadn’t melted as much as in town.

The door opened, and a stranger stepped out. Tall, lean, and tough-looking, he had the look of a miner himself. Their eyes met, and the man removed a fat cigar from his mouth. “Deputy. How can I help you?”

“Morning.” Jake took a step toward the shack. “I’m here to see the owner of the mine. He inside?”

“I’m the owner. Carpenter’s the name. What can I do for you?”

“A kid showed up at the orphanage the other night. Hurt pretty bad.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Doc Valentine says he might have gotten hurt while working in a mine.”

A bark of laughter escaped Carpenter. “Deputy, do you realize how many kids pass themselves off as adults to get work in the mines? They’ll be ten or twelve and insist they’re four or five years older. Even their parents will vouch for them, saying they’re just small for their age.”

“There was no way to mistake this kid for an adult. Doc says he might not make it.”

“What happened to him?”

“We don’t know for sure, but he might have fallen down a shaft. He’s black and blue, got some broken ribs, and he might lose his hand. It’s in pretty bad shape.”

Carpenter swore, his face hardening. “I treat my workers fair, and if one of them was injured, I’d call on Doc to take care of them. You ever work in a mine, Deputy?”

Jake nodded, one short jerk of his head. “I’ve done my time.”

“Why’d you quit? You scared?” Carpenter took a puff on his cigar and grinned.

“Scared. And wiser. My pa died in the Black Gold collapse in ’72. I was trapped in the mine for

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