Coal Dusted Hearts

By Donna Cawley Brennan and Rebecca Holden

Deep in the mountains of Pennsylvania, the Brookfield Mine has more to offer than coal - three women and promise that can never be broken. Maggie McCauley is trying to keep her family safe at any cost. But the mine holds no discrimination as to who it harms, a harsh reality Maggie fears every day.

As the daughter of the mines superintendent, Alice Tiltons life is neatly planned and thought-out against her own wishes. Alice wants more for her future and for the men that work in the mine.

Robin Thatcher is an orphan from the mountains and her only option for survival is to change her identity and head for the mines. So enters Robby March.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479728121

Donna Cawley Brennan

Donnas love for writing started at a very early age. Her first project was a poem in the fifth grade. Her father used to say, Donna, you live in a fantasy world. Besides writing, Donna loves to read, sew and enjoys cooking. She also loves watching The History Channel. Donna has two grown daughters, Natalie and Emily and resides in Montclair, New Jersey with her two cats.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

THE SHRIEKING SIREN echoed for miles. Women and children hurried frantically. Mothers held their babies close, while toddlers clung to their skirts for shelter. There was no need to direct traffic. The crowd traveled down the same path – toward the mine.

A woman in a tattered print dress ran down the dusty road. Virgil, she screamed, weaving around the crowd. Her first instinct was to yell, ‘move’ hoping everyone would step aside to let her pass.

Maggie pushed her way through the anxious onlookers. Her body moved forward, but with each step she took she could feel herself moving backwards. She wasn’t new to this, but the fear inside seemed new each time she heard the alarm.

Maggie searched through the many faces in the mob, but none belonged to her son. She grabbed hold of her apron and twisted it into a knot. Again she called for him hoping he heard her desperate cries. She forged through the mass of people, praying with each step she took that her family would be safe. Then a voice shouted back.

She stopped and turned around brushing a few auburn strands away from her face. It was her son, Virgil.

She recalled the cold winter of 1950. She had warned Virgil about sliding down the steep hill behind the machine shop. Virgil had promised his mother that he would be careful and then he took to the hill. He went head first down the slope and skidded over a patch of ice, slicing his chin open.

Maggie looked into Virgil’s bright green eyes, bringing him into her arms. Where are your brothers? She asked, rubbing the soot from his childhood scar.

Virgil shook his head. I don’t know, Ma, he said. Me and Dusty got separated, and I ain’t sure what happened to Clay.

She didn’t like hearing that – Virgil knew how she counted on him to look after his brothers, especially Clay.

By now Virgil and Maggie were standing alone. Most of the crowd had made it toward the mine entrance. Seconds later a familiar voice called out. She willed a faint smile when the sight of her youngest son Dusty, dressed in dirty overalls, traipsed toward them.

The awkward teen pushed through the crowd. He towered over his brother and unlike Virgil’s thick black curls he had wavy brown hair. He may have been too big to cradle, but Maggie scooped him up into her arms. Her hold was snug – letting go was not an option.

I’m fine, Ma, the lanky teen assured his mother.

Maggie heard Virgil ask Dusty about Clay, but now her eyes were fixed toward the mine entrance. She spotted Elias Tilton, the superintendent of the mine.

Jackson, she whispered. She moved away from Virgil and Dusty, and set her thoughts on another. Her gut told her that her husband lay trapped in the earth below. She tried to settle the nausea and placed her hands on her stomach hoping to relax the need to be sick.

She quickened her steps toward the shaft entrance. Her eyes met with Elias. Elias quickly raised his hand toward the men bringing up the wounded. If he were trying to spare her from seeing the condition of the men, she wasn’t interested. She inched closer to the entrance. Don’t stop the men. Her voice trembled with fear. Just tell me. Where’s Jackson?

Elias motioned with his arm for the men to carry on. The men ran into some bad air. He stepped closer to Maggie. Jackson was one of them.

Maggie felt her heart drop. She stood back and waited. One by one, the wounded miners were carried out from the mine.

The injured men collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. Maggie recognized Whit Simpson, the first of the wounded to make it to fresh air. His face was black from the soot, and his left boot was missing. After saying a silent prayer, she turned back to the entrance. She watched two workers drag a second man from the mine. She prayed that the next would be her husband.

Her eyes were fixed on the mine entrance, paying no mind to her arm being jerked back. She resisted, keeping her eyes steady.

Ma, a hoarse voiced called out to her from behind.

She turned around to spot Clay tugging on her arm. All she could see were the whites of his eyes, and teeth. He was shorter than Dusty, and a hair taller than Virgil. He had a square jaw and a broad nose, and much like his father, his wavy dark brown hair brushed his collar.

Maggie reached for him. She pulled him close, kissing him on the side of the face. Where were you? She asked, flustered.

Lookin’ for Virg and Dusty, Clay stuttered.

They’re safe, she explained.

Clay’s eyes soon grew large, sending a warning to his mother. Maggie turned around.

Pa, Clay shouted, shoving his way through the crowd.

Two workers carried Jackson out, and placed him on the ground. Black soot covered his face and the rest of his body.

Maggie followed Clay, and dropped to the ground to be by her husband’s side. She cradled his head in her lap and grabbed hold of her apron to rub the soot from his eyelids.

You can open your eyes, Jackson, Maggie said, caressing the side of his face. We’re all here.

Behind her she could hear Elias. Alright. Everyone step back. Let’s give these men some air, he shouted, moving the crowd back.

Maggie paid no mind to Elias – she only cared to see Jackson open his eyes.

Maggie, Jackson said, turning his head to cough.

Let’s get you home.

Clay grabbed his father’s arm, and Dusty flung his father’s other arm around his neck. Virgil attended to his mother, holding her close to his side.

The McCauley clan started down the dusty road for home.

CHAPTER TWO

MAGGIE FELT SAFE. The panic down at the mine had finally settled down. Home was down the road. She could see Virgil’s girl Tess stepping down from the front porch. Maggie could only imagine what Tess had been feeling inside. Two years earlier, Tess lost both her father and brother when the mine suffered a cave in.

Maggie slanted her head to the side, Virgil looked anxious. Go. Be with Tess. She nudged her son to move along. Minutes later Virgil swept Tess into his arms. Maggie was sure of one thing – Virgil would be the first to leave the nest.

Maggie walked past Virgil and Tess and up the steps to the porch. She opened the door ignoring the squeak she had been reminding Jackson to fix for the last month and waited for the other boys to help Jackson inside the house.

The aroma of herbs simmering in a bath of vegetables filled the kitchen. Maggie went straight to the stove to reheat the vegetable stew she had turned off when she heard the alarm.

Dusty. Maggie turned to her son. I’m going to need you and Clay to go outside and get the shower started for your father.

Dusty helped his father into a chair before racing Clay to the back door.

Stews on, Maggie turned to tell Jackson. You let the boys help you get cleaned up for supper.

I’ll be fine, Jackson said, coughing into his fist. It was just some bad air.

Maggie knelt down beside her husband and rested her hands in his lap. His face, hair and overalls were covered in soot. He looked tired and drained from the ordeal that could have taken him from her. You listen to me, Jackson McCauley, she said, holding his hand. It is my right and my job to worry about you.

Jackson smiled.

Good, Maggie said. We understand each other.

The voices from the front porch caught Maggie off guard. She stood up to check on Virgil and Tess.

Don’t you have dreams? Maggie heard Tess ask Virgil.

Everybody got dreams, Tess, Virgil told her. Mine are of you.

Maggie looked away before catching Jackson’s gaze. I know. Leave them be, she said, reading her husband’s mind.

You did your job raising him. Jackson reminded her. The rest is up to him.

Maggie looked around her kitchen. The table needed a fresh coat of paint, two of the chairs wobbled and the other three didn’t match. Maggie wanted more for her sons.

____________

By nine o’clock, Jackson, Dusty and Clay had gone to bed. The events of the day kept Maggie up. Maggie wanted her family to believe in her strength, but she did have her limits. All she wanted was for their safety, but in a coal-mining town that was a difficult order to carry out.

Maggie brought out some sewing, and sat in Jackson’s rocker waiting for Virgil to come home. She looked up when the screen door swung open making the familiar creak. That door needs fixing.

Virgil stopped to swing the door back and forth. It’s rubbin’ against something, he said. I’ll fix it.

I’ve been hearing that promise for weeks now, Maggie said, stitching a pocket in place to an old shirt that belonged to Jackson.

Virgil secured the door shut and walked into the kitchen. This time, I promise.

Maggie looked up from her work. You get Tess home okay?

Virgil strolled over to the fridge. Yup, he said, opening the refrigerator door.

Being able to read her son’s mind, Maggie applauded herself by saying, Don’t eat all the cornbread, I’m saving it for breakfast. She looked up from her sewing to ask, Did you see Elias?

Virgil closed the fridge. No, he said, taking a seat at the table instead. Why?

Just curious. This is the second time in one week that the alarm went off.

I’m sure he’ll have Gavin check everything out.

"Well he is the superintendent. He best make sure it doesn’t happen again," Maggie snapped.

Virgil gave his mother a deliberate stare. You don’t much care for Elias. How come?

It’s all been said and done, Maggie said, breaking the thread off with her teeth.

Now showing signs of fatigue, Virgil started to rub the back of his neck. Something must a happened.

Never you mind, Virgil McCauley, Maggie said, inspecting the shirt for any more signs of wear.

Virgil got up from the chair and dragged his feet over to the kitchen doorway that led to the parlor. Okay. He yawned. I’m gonna go to bed.

Maggie placed her sewing down and got up. Virg. She met him by the door. You don’t worry about my bad feelings for Elias, she said, rubbing the scar on his chin. You hear me?

Virgil gave an exhausted nod and then headed for the stairs.

Maggie stepped into the parlor and paused by the staircase. Along the wall leading up the stairs displayed a collection of family photos. A youthful picture of Maggie and another young woman with long black hair sitting under a tree by the Susquehanna River on a summer day brought a tear to her eye. Maggie sighed. There would be no need to bring Virgil and the other boys into the past.

CHAPTER THREE

ALICE TILTON STOOD in front of the mirror, twisting her golden brown locks into a braid. She pulled the last few strands together, before fastening a barrette to hold it in place.

What to do next, Alice thought, hoping the girl looking back at her would say something.

Alice’s father, Elias Tilton was the mine superintendent, and her brother Gavin mimicked her father by walking in his shadow. Alice was different – she was a gentle spirit, much like her mother, before the pneumonia stole her last breath.

Alice didn’t have any close friends, and the few girls she did talk to seemed cautious about bringing her into their confidence – although she did enjoy spending time with the old timers down at the mine site. She loved hearing them talk about their chilling, near death experiences. Unfortunately she was always spotted by her father and then ordered to go home.

She turned to the side and smoothed out any wrinkles from her blouse. She smiled when she noticed her teen-age curves. Sixteen in two months, maybe her father would let her buy a new dress for the autumn festival. She twirled around, and stumbled backwards. She didn’t know her brother Gavin was standing in the doorway. He looked satisfied, as though he’d just finished eating a large meal.

What do you want? Alice snapped.

Gavin traded in his glare for a dubious smile. Nothing. I was just passing by your room.

Alice knew better. So you thought you’d stop by to chat.

Gavin folded his arms in front of him, and propped his shoulder up against the doorframe. You best not be heading down to the mine, he reminded her.

What’s it to you anyway, Alice said, heading for the doorway.

Gavin edged his body into the room, blocking her way. You stay away from the mine, he warned her. You have no business down there.

Alice looked straight into her brother’s menacing brown eyes. Stop telling me what to do, she said, poking his bulging biceps. And who said I was going down to the mine. It’s Saturday. I was just going for a walk. Alice pushed her way past Gavin, and started for the staircase.

You best not be lying, Gavin hollered to her.

Alice cupped her hands over her ears, forcing Gavin’s words from her head. She would not let him ruin her day. She skipped down the steps, making a dash for the front door. Once outside, she rounded the corner to the back of the house, and started for the railroad tracks.

She ran through several backyards before reaching the tracks, taking the straight path, instead of the one that rounded the bend for the breaker. Alice ran for what seemed like a mile before bringing her jog to a steady walk.

The sweet smell of honeysuckle and violets fragranced the area. Soon the cries of children playing tapered off, and the calming sounds of nature took over. She listened to the chipmunks and squirrels making plans for the winter, even the trees were discussing the new fall foliage they hoped to show off.

Alice strolled down the tracks, trying to erase Gavin’s mocking words repeating in her head. She quickened her steps, hoping that the echo of his cries would fade. It did, only to be replaced by the howling screech of the train’s whistle. Alice darted off the tracks quickly and tumbled to the ground. She rolled down a small hill and landed in a valley of soft green grass.

The cool grass tickled her arms and legs. Alice would have stayed between the thick blades had a crack echoing through the air not disturbed her solitude. She eased herself up to try and locate the noise. Whack, she heard again sailing through the sky. Alice stood up. Now curious, she walked to investigate. Her search brought her to an open field. There she found Clay McCauley playing stickball.

She watched Clay run from what appeared to be an imaginary base to home plate made up of dirt and rocks. He then bent down to pick up a few rocks, stashing some into his pant pocket.

Alice smiled and called out to him.

Clay stopped and looked her way and true to Clay’s trusting character, he dashed over to Alice.

Hey Alice.

You having fun?

Clay shrugged.

Alice rarely spoke to Clay, another ‘no’ on her father’s list. Clay was older than his brothers, but acted years younger. Some of the other kids called him names like ‘retard’ and ‘dummy.’ To Alice he was just shy. You wanna show me how to play?

Clay’s face lit up. And like a soldier leading his troops into battle, he headed back to his makeshift home plate with Alice trailing behind him.

Clay stood over home plate and explained. This is where you start, he said, holding the stick with his right hand, and in slow measured stages he demonstrated how to use the stick. Next he pulled a rock from his pant pocket and tossed it in the air. Then ya hafta whack it. When the rock came down, Clay sent the rock sailing into the open field.

Clay stepped back and reached into his pant pocket again to give Alice a rock, and then handed her his stick.

Not sure at first, Alice took a deep breath before stepping up to home plate. She remembered watching a baseball game on T.V. at the community center in town and tapped the dirt mound with her stick just like the baseball players did on T.V.

She glanced over her shoulder at Clay and asked. What do I do next?

Clay stood to the side clenching his right hand. You holdin’ the stick tight?

I think so, Alice said, gripping the stick. Alice lifted her right foot, and stepped in place.

Throw the rock in the air and whack it, Clay said, pretending to toss a rock in the air.

Alice didn’t buy his effortless advice but gave it a shot. Okay, she said, tossing the rock in the air, but it never came down. Where’d it go? And then she heard a thump behind her.

Try again.

Alice turned to Clay. This could take all day, she pointed out.

Clay just laughed.

Alice sucked in the air around her, and after four or five tries she managed to hit the rock toward what appeared to be third base. Whoa, she said, turning back to Clay. Did you see that?

Wow. Not bad for a girl.

Can I try again?

Sure, Clay said. This time ya need to try and hit the rock that way, he said, pointing toward center field.

They continued to play until the afternoon sun warmed the valley. Alice never knew what the big fuss was about Clay’s simple manner. She understood him just fine. All one had to do was listen to him.

They walked for a bit before strolling off onto a dirt path that led them back into town. They made a turn down Main Street toward the Company Store for home.

However, keeping up with Clay wasn’t easy. His strides were large. Alice had to skip to keep the pace.

Hey, Alice said, trying to keep up with him. "Do you know the words to take me out to the ball game?"

Clay stopped. He screwed up his face and cocked his head to the side. Ya mean peanuts and crackerjacks?

Yeah. Alice giggled, linking her arm through his. That’s the one.

They leapt into song, singing only the words they knew. Soon the singsong melody dwindled down to a dull hum when they ran into Dusty, Virgil and Virgil’s girl, Tess.

Alice hardly ever spoke to Virgil or Dusty, unless it was in passing. With Tess, it was different. After the death of Tess’s father and brother, Alice’s father felt responsible that Tess was left without a family and hired her to keep house for him.

Alice greeted the trio with a smile. Her hair had come undone and her clothes were soiled, but her mood was in high spirits. She opened her mouth to say hello, only to have Tess rob it from her.

I didn’t know the two of you were friends, Tess said.

Alice never knew how to read Tess. The two seldom spoke, unless it concerned the household chores. Alice would have preferred that they be friends, even if there were a few years between them, but being that Tess worked for her father, it never worked out.

Well. Alice cleared her throat. We are now.

Tess sighed. I guess when you have no girlfriends to talk to, who else…

Shouldn’t you be ironing today, Alice said, cutting off Tess.

Tess tossed her head to the side, her blonde hair cascading down her back, and folded her arms in front of her.

Alice turned to Clay. I’d like to play again sometime, she said, glancing over to catch Virgil’s gaze.

Okay, Clay said. How ’bout tomorrow?

Dusty nudged Clay in the shoulder. You know tomorrow is Sunday, he reminded his brother. Maybe Alice got plans tomorrow.

I forgot, Clay said. How ’bout next Saturday?

Before Alice had a chance to answer she heard Tess giggle. When she turned around, she spotted Tess covering her mouth, as if to hide her snigger.

If you have something to say, Tess, then just say it, Alice told her.

Does that mean you and Clay will be going steady, Tess said, followed by another giggle.

Embarrassed by Tess’s remark, Alice looked down at the ground.

Virgil turned to his girlfriend. Tess, he scolded.

What? Tess appeared innocent. Isn’t that like a date?

Alice looked up. First she glared at Tess, and then she turned to Clay. I would love to play baseball with you next Saturday.

Yay, Clay cheered.

The playful gathering ended when Dusty and Clay said good-bye, leaving Alice to make small talk with Virgil and Tess. I guess I should be going too, she said, feeling out of place.

Ya know, that was real nice of you, Virgil said to Alice with a smile.

What was? Alice looked surprised.

Playing baseball with Clay.

He was the one who was being nice, Alice said, wrinkling her nose. I don’t think I played very well.

Virgil laughed, and Alice returned a giggle.

However, when she looked over at Tess, she received a scowl. Alice knew that Tess wasn’t Virgil’s first girl. Alice remembered one time when she was in the Company Store she over heard a conversation with Kathy Myers, Virgil’s then girlfriend and another girl. Kathy told the girl that Virgil was always a gentleman, but that he could kiss better than any boy in Brookfield. This always charmed Alice, but his next choice turned out to be Tess, leaving Alice only to guess.

Alice watched Virgil snuggle close to Tess. If there were walls where she stood, they would have surely closed in around her. Time to leave, she told herself, picking up her heals for home. However, she dared herself, and curved her head back to catch one last glimpse of Virgil.

Only, he never looked up. His lips were locked in a kiss.

CHAPTER FOUR

REVEREND EDWARDS STOOD behind the pulpit at the First Community Church and raised his hand to the heavens clutching a tattered old bible with his fingertips. There is evil among us. His words resonated off the holy walls. Every morning we rise, we are tempted with evil thoughts. The Reverend continued with the sermon for an hour before offering one final thought. We are all sinners waiting for redemption. After a few minutes of silence, he added, But the good in all of us will triumph in the end.

The tall, gray haired pastor stepped down from behind the pulpit and gave a nod to Dusty McCauley, the musician for today’s service.

Dusty sat on a chair alongside the altar holding his guitar and played the melody to the inspirational hymn, The Old Rugged Cross. Dressed in brown trousers and a shabby jacket that didn’t match, the confidence in his performance surpassed his uneven attire. The wavy haired coalminer glanced over at his parents and sang out. The chorus repeated several times before the service ended with the phrase, Amen.

After service, Jackson and Maggie wandered outside to mingle with the others who used the Sunday service to socialize as well as worship.

Unable to splurge, Maggie wore a simple floral print dress and a pillbox hat that she purchased at the church bazaar two years ago. She pulled her auburn hair into a twist, which completed her modest look. Jackson wore the same dark gray suit he wore every Sunday and he combed his hair neatly and shaved the scruffy beard that normally shadowed his face.

Maggie and Jackson stood talking with Stan and Betty Myers. Stan, a thin man with a receding hairline, and Betty, a short round woman were discussing the mining accident from the other day.

I know you can’t smell the methane, Jackson said. But I knew something was wrong.

Stan nodded. "I don’t know what