The Ballad of Emma O'Toole by Elizabeth Lane

Author:Elizabeth Lane [Lane, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781472004086
Publisher: HarlequinUKLtd
Published: 2012-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Emma huddled on the seat of the hooded chaise, dressed in the baggy shirt and overalls, heavy work boots and low-brimmed hat Hector Armitage had given her the day before. Her face was smeared with ore dust, her upper lip overhung with a fake moustache that made her want to sneeze. The tin lunch pail in her lap contained a boiled egg and a mutton sandwich like the ones she’d made so often in the boardinghouse. It also held two plain white candles, which were supposed to last to the end of her ten-hour shift. Right now those ten hours loomed like an eternity.

It wasn’t too late to go home. All she had to do was tell Armitage she’d changed her mind. But she’d come this far. She was bound by her vow to finish what she’d started.

Hunched over the reins, Armitage shot her a sidelong glance. “Remember, keep your head down. Don’t talk if you can help it—you can always pretend you don’t speak English. When there’s work going on, stay out of the way. Do that, and you should be fine till the shift ends.”

Emma nodded. It sounded easy enough. But her pulse was racing so fast she could barely distinguish the beats.

Even at a distance Emma could hear the hiss of steam engines and the steady thump of the ore-crushing stamps in the huge Ontario Mill. She thought about the men who worked in these canyons, ten hours a day, seven days a week, with no holidays except Christmas and the Fourth of July. How did they stand the dirt, the noise and the darkness?

When she found out, she would tell the world what it was like.

Emma’s strategy for getting into the mine depended on the row of privies that lined the back of the hoist shed. While the miners were leaving the changing room to wait for the cage, Emma would wander in from the direction of the privies, as if she’d already changed and gone to relieve herself. From there it should be easy enough to mingle with the waiting men. If she chanced to get caught, she’d be in trouble. But since she was the owner’s wife, the foreman could do little more than turn her over to her husband.

The risk of her coming to harm wasn’t that great. So why was her throat so tight she could barely swallow?

“What about the interviews?” she asked Armitage. “Will you have time to talk with people today?”

“Leave that to me. As we agreed, you make the headline, I’ll write the story. That’s my job.”

“But it’s important that we get the article out as soon as possible. Do you understand?”

“Absolutely. Don’t worry about it.” Armitage halted the chaise at the foot of a brushy slope, below the rear of the mine. “When you get off your shift, I’ll be waiting here to drive you back to town. You can tell me everything on the way.” He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Good luck, Mrs. Devereaux.”

Emma dropped to the road and started up the hillside.

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