Книга - A Groom to Come Home To

A Groom to Come Home To
Irene Brand


COMING HOME…Beth Warner had pledged she'd never return to Harlan County. But when a twist of fate brought the beautiful nurse home, she faced reawakened memories–and the only man who had ever won her heart….Clark Randolph hadn't changed. Handsome, strong and kind, he was still all Beth had ever wanted. Secure in his faith, he'd never given up on their hometown. Deep in his heart, he'd never stopped loving Beth….Now Beth was again faced with the same dilemma that had torn her apart as a teenager. And as she struggled to understand heaven's plan in bringing her home again, she prayed that it was not too late to embrace a future filled with Clark's love.









Table of Contents


Cover Page (#u4a412769-7bb2-5a0c-88ee-fc6fe00b6bd4)

About the Author (#u7192a5fa-dfc7-5df6-a837-07ddb4134bb6)

Title Page (#u5c2978f1-b603-506a-a1ad-1dc4a9037fef)

Dedication (#u1cabc184-1d3b-530f-b067-0e3e0867c3f0)

Epigraph (#u0ecf2a56-ec1c-5273-af05-d77e0a4aeac4)

Chapter One (#u4dc9adec-b148-5bb7-a4ac-8eae2fe0da52)

Chapter Two (#u9f9e127e-594e-545f-841e-4b93e7914671)

Chapter Three (#u4a260295-6650-5299-9f05-95613d695aa0)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




IRENE BRAND


This prolific and popular author of both contemporary and historical inspirational fiction is a native of West Virginia, where she has lived all of her life. She began writing professionally in 1977, after she completed her master’s degree in history at Marshall University. Irene taught in secondary public schools for twenty-three years, but retired in 1989 to devote herself fulltime to her writing.



In 1984, after she’d enjoyed a long career of publishing articles and devotional materials, her first novel was published by Thomas Nelson. Since that time, Irene has published nineteen contemporary and historical novels and three nonfiction titles with publishers such as Zondervan, Fleming Revell and Barbour Books.



Her extensive travels with her husband, Rod, to forty-nine of the United States and thirty-two foreign countries have inspired much of her writing. Through her writing, Irene believes she has been helpful to others and is grateful to the many readers who have written to say that her truly inspiring stories and compelling portrayals of characters of strong faith have made a positive impression on their lives. You can write to her at P.O. Box 2770, Southside, WV 25187.




A Groom to Come Home To

Irene Brand







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To the following people who were helpful in my

research for this book:



Beth Loughner, fellow writer and nurse

Gladys Hoskins, Chamber of Commerce,

Harlan, Kentucky

The staff at the public library in Harlan, and

Kathy Wheeler, who provided research material

about the Kentucky Coalition of Nurse Practitioners

and Nurse Midwives.


How priceless is your unfailing love!

—Psalm 36:7a




Chapter One (#ulink_d61b6ca1-33cd-5172-b4e4-807ba5326ca3)


Long before she reached the top of Randolph Mountain, Beth Warner knew she had made a big mistake. Earlier in the day when she’d been heading westward toward Lexington, she should have resisted the impulse to visit southeastern Kentucky. She didn’t cherish any fond memories of this part of the country where she had lived for eighteen years of her life. When she’d left over four years ago, she’d hoped she would never have to return, but there was no other way to repay the obligation she owed Shriver Mining Company.

The January day was clear and crisp, but it had snowed recently, and as she turned off the paved highway, Beth looked in dismay at the quagmire that passed for a gravel road leading up the side of the mountain. Deep ruts marked the slippery clay surface of the wet, narrow track. Could her small car possibly negotiate that incline? When she had traveled this road in other years, it had always been on foot or in her father’s pickup truck.

Beth was afraid to tackle the hill, for she had owned the car less than a week, and she wasn’t an experienced driver. Her driving expertise had already been tested to the breaking point on the narrow, serpentine road crossing Pine Mountain from Whitesburg to Cumberland, but at least there had been guardrails along that mountainous stretch. Here, one false move could send her over an embankment. But while she wasn’t inclined to take any chances, she’d come too far to turn back now.

She started slowly, gripping the steering wheel with moist hands, and sat straight as a ramrod while she slowly and steadily maneuvered the compact automobile up the slippery road. She released her breath when she reached the summit. Her hands were clammy, and when she lifted her foot from the accelerator, her leg trembled.

She pulled to one side of the road and parked on the soft needles in a grove of hemlocks. The wind swept briskly across the mountaintop, whipping the branches of the tall evergreens and buffeting her car. Beth slipped off her shoes and pulled on a pair of wool-lined boots, wrapped herself in an insulated coat, and tied a wool scarf around her long, straight, chestnut hair before she looked for the path that would take her to the brink of the mountain. Briers, thick vines and small trees barred the path’s entrance, but Beth walked around the underbrush and into the deeper woods where the trail was more distinct.

A ten-minute walk brought her to the edge of a rock cliff, and from that vantage point, she had an unobstructed view of the rugged mountain hollow where she had been born.

“Just as ugly and wretched as I remember,” she muttered.

Her eyes followed the crooked roadway leading into the small valley that showed no sign of life except for two crows perched in the leafless branches of a poplar tree, their harsh, strident cries echoing from one mountainside to the other. The towering cedars in the family cemetery where her parents were buried stood like watchmen over the hollow. A sparse snowfall had dusted the barren ground and the roofs of the deserted, ramshackle buildings, making the whole scene more desolate than it would have appeared in another season.

Even during the days when she had yearned to leave this hollow, Beth had always been sensitive to its beauty—the flowering redbud and dogwood trees in early spring, the green of the deciduous trees in the summer, and their yellow-and-red foliage in autumn. Today, however, she couldn’t summon any nostalgic thoughts of the past; all she saw was ugliness.

Her birthplace hadn’t changed a great deal from the way she first remembered it; in fact, Beth doubted that it had changed much since her ancestor had built a log cabin here soon after the Revolutionary War. During a rare period of prosperity, when Beth had been a toddler, her father had put siding over the logs and paneled the interior, but otherwise the four-room cabin with a full porch across the front seemed untouched by the years.

The scene was so deeply etched in Beth’s memory that she wouldn’t have been surprised to see her work-weary mother step out the door and draw water from the well in the backyard. Nor would it have seemed unusual to observe her invalid father, John, sitting in his favorite rocker on the front porch with a shotgun across his knees, his keen eyes searching the landscape for any unwelcome intruders in general, and Randolphs in particular. But except for the two crows, and Beth’s poignant memories, the hollow was deserted. After John Warner’s death, her half siblings had sold the property to a Shriver mining company, who wanted the land for the minerals lying beneath its surface.

A cold wind blew up from the hollow, indicating that more snow was a possibility. Beth shivered and headed back to her car. She had intended to go down to the house, but one glance at the road had discouraged her. The difficulty she’d had climbing Randolph Mountain was minor compared to the danger she would encounter on that narrow path. It would be foolish for her to attempt to drive into the hollow, for she couldn’t risk being stranded overnight without shelter.

Beth had often heard, “You can’t go home again,” but she decided that a more accurate adage would be, “You shouldn’t go home again.” She’d yielded to a questionable whim to come here, but it had profited her little. Beth broke into a run as she left the overlook. Warner Hollow was too full of memories disturbing to her peace of mind, and she wanted to leave it as quickly as possible. She raced along the path, determined to escape the past—especially her heartbreaking relationship with Clark Randolph, who had rarely left her thoughts since that day she had first seen him over seven years ago.



As Beth left Randolph Mountain, recollections of the past persisted, and she concluded that she might as well deal with the bitterness she harbored and lay it aside forever. So, all during a sleepless night at a motel in Harlan, Kentucky, she reviewed the chain of events that had brought underprivileged Beth Warner from that stark mountain home and made her into Beth Warner, advanced registered nurse-practitioner and midwife, who tomorrow would be in the employ of Shriver Mining Company.



“Why do you want to go to high school, Beth? You’ll be sixteen in a few months—you can quit school then. Why can’t you be like the other girls around here?” Mary Warner asked in querulous tones. Mary was a quiet, submissive wife. Beth had inherited her petite, finely-structured body, but there the resemblance between mother and daughter ended.

“I don’t know, Mom, but I can’t. You know how I’m always feeling sorry for people who have trouble and wanting to help them. I want to prepare myself to help others, and I can’t do it without more education than I have now.”

“What’s put all of this into your head? Some book you’ve been reading?”

“Maybe…. The teacher loaned me a book on the lives of great women in history, and I can’t get the story of Florence Nightingale out of my mind,” Beth confided. “She overcame all kinds of opposition to become a nurse and she helped so many people.”

“Then you want to be a nurse?”

Dreamily Beth said, “Not necessarily, although it would be a profession where I could reach out and help others, and I can’t do that if I don’t go to school somewhere beyond these mountains.”

“If you want to pattern your life after someone, why don’t you use Granny Warner for a model?”

“I didn’t know she was so important.”

“Well, she was. You’re always complaining about your poor family background, but let me tell you, there has never been a finer woman walked the earth than Granny Warner or my own mother, for that matter. And my father’s people have served in every war this country has ever fought. As far as that’s concerned, you’ve got a lot of good ancestors among the Warners. Why, the family has been in this country since the founding of Jamestown!”

“My brothers don’t amount to much.”

“Well, that’s not Warner blood,” Mary said and her mouth snapped shut, as if she would say no more, for she had always been jealous of John Warner’s first wife.

“Tell me more about Granny Warner.”

“She was the best midwife ever lived in Harlan County—she’s the one who brought you into the world, as well as your sister and brothers. She traveled all over these mountains, any time of day or night, to help women give birth.”

“I’ll never forget the time Luellen was here and Granny came and helped deliver her baby. But women go to hospitals for delivering their babies now.”

“Not all of them—some women still prefer to give birth at home.”

“But I believe that my destiny is some place other than Kentucky.”

Mary continued as if Beth hadn’t spoken. “Granny Warner was trained by Mary Breckinridge, who recognized the need for midwives in the isolated areas of Kentucky, and she organized the Frontier Nursing Service back in the twenties. Your granny was proud to serve with her.”

“I could be a nurse and a midwife, too, I suppose, but it will still take more education than I have.”

Mrs. Warner sighed. “I wish you could be content with your life the way it is, but since you can’t be, do what you think best. It won’t be easy for you to go to high school. The bus line is over three miles away. You’ll have to walk there and back most days, Beth.”

“I wondered if I could stay with Grandma Blaine during the week. The bus passes right by her house.”

“I’ll ask her, but you’d better clear this with your daddy.”

Beth nodded, and she wandered out on the porch, mildly elated, for she didn’t expect any resistance from her father, who had idolized his youngest daughter since the day Beth was born on his sixtieth birthday. John Warner was tall and lanky, a smoothshaven man with bluish shadows beneath his dark eyes. John’s health had never been good after having been a prisoner of war during World War II, and since his retirement from the mine, he had been disabled by heart disease. His portable oxygen tank lay on a table by his side, for John didn’t dare go anyplace without it. Beth sat on the porch floor beside her father and took his hand.

“Why are you looking so serious, baby?” he asked.

“I want to go to school in the county seat this fall.”

“You’re such a smart girl—I figure you know everything now.”

Beth shook her head stubbornly. “Not enough to get me away from this hollow.”

A cloud passed over John’s eyes. “Anxious to leave your old pa, are you?”

She squeezed the bony hand she held. “No, not that, Daddy, but don’t you want me to have a better life than you’ve had?”

“Yes, I do, baby, even if it means you have to leave us. I can’t keep you here forever. I reckon it will cost a heap of money to go to school in the county seat, but I’ll give you all the help I can.”

“Thanks, Daddy, but my teacher told me that there are funds available through your union to aid children of disabled miners. She’s encouraged me to go on with school, and she’ll help me fill out an application.”

“You’ve got the makings of a great woman, Beth, and if you think you need more schooling, go ahead and get it. I wish I’d had more book learning myself. After the war, I could have gone to school under the G.I. Bill, but I didn’t. I’ve been sorry, too, that I didn’t” He started talking about his war experiences, and Beth listened halfheartedly. She’d heard the stories so many times, but she looked at him intently, even while her thoughts turned to the future.

Fortified by her parents’ agreement with her plans, Beth climbed the hill to her hideaway, a playhouse under a cliff that she’d used since she was a child. She always went there when she wanted to think, and she had a lot of thinking to do. She was sure that her maternal grandmother would welcome her, and if her father could contribute a little money, perhaps she could get the remainder she needed from the miners’ union if her former teacher could advise her how to do it.

And the woman did recommend Beth for a grant, which was awarded immediately. More practical help came from a friend, Pam Gordon. Pam had married Ray Gordon when she was fifteen and moved to Pineville in a neighboring county. When Pam heard about Beth’s plans, she insisted that Beth should pay her a visit.

“I’ll help you find clothes that won’t cost you a great deal,” she promised. “You won’t need to buy new things. Since Ray is going to Lexington next week to play with his bluegrass band, we’ll go along, and I’ll take you to a ‘second-best’ store where they have really nice name-brand clothing for much less than you can buy it in retail stores. What you need are jeans and shirts, and if they’re somewhat worn, it won’t matter. High-school kids like them better that way.” She laughed. Under Pam’s guidance, Beth had come home from Pineville with enough outfits to satisfy her school needs.



Now, as she listened to a blustery wind blowing snow around the motel, Beth remembered how frightened she had been on the first day of school when she’d stood in front of Grandmother Ella Blaine’s home and watched the yellow bus approaching.

For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to run back to the hollow and stay there for the rest of her life. She knew what awaited her at home, but if she stepped on the bus, an unknown future loomed ahead. But should she give up her dreams so easily? Florence Nightingale hadn’t.

Fortunately, Beth’s mind was diverted from her own problems when a couple of children, who lived in the house adjacent to her grandmother’s, came out their door. The little boy was walking on crutches, his right leg encased in a cast When they reached Beth’s side, his sister explained, “Bryce broke his leg last week and since this is his first day at school, he’s scared. Mom would have taken us this morning, but the baby is sick.”

Beth looked at Bryce, whose lips were trembling, and his hands were shaking on the crutches.

“Come on, Bryce,” she said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll help you onto the bus.”

When the bus stopped in front of them, the driver swung open the door and smiled at Beth. She threw the strap of her knapsack over her shoulder and held Bryce around the waist as he awkwardly climbed the steps. The bus driver took the boy’s hand, and with his help, Beth settled him into a front seat beside his sister.

“You’ll be fine, Bryce,” she told him with a smile, and indeed, the boy did look less fearful now that he’d cleared the first hurdle. With that act of kindness, Beth’s future was launched—not only as a high-school student, but also as a care provider.

The bus lurched into motion before Beth found a seat, and she quickly surveyed the students on board. A few of the faces were familiar—teens she had seen at miners’ rallies on Labor Day—but no one greeted her. Perhaps they felt ill at ease, too. The first few seats were empty, but she moved farther back into the bus, hoping to find a friendly face.

One boy smiled, and said, “This seat is empty. You’d better take it. The bus will be full before we get to school.”

“Thanks,” Beth said, and as she sat beside him on the narrow seat, their shoulders touched, giving Beth a secure feeling.

“I saw you helping that little fellow onto the bus. Is he your brother?”

“No—I’ve never seen him before. I’m staying with my grandmother, and the children are her neighbors. He felt scared and needed a little help.”

“That was nice of you.” His words were simple but his appreciative glance conveyed much more. His brown eyes twinkled with love of life, and she liked his keen and serene expression. On that first day, she had noticed deep dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. He had a bronzed, lean face, with a firm mouth.

“This your first year in high school?” he asked.

“Yes, I could have gone last year, but my folks discouraged me. They didn’t try to prevent it this year—maybe because I’m older.”

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Fifteen, but I’ll have a birthday in December. What grade are you in?”

“This is my senior year.”

Though she could tell he was older than herself, Beth hadn’t guessed he was a senior.

“What do you want to do when you finish?” she asked him.

“Go to work in the mines, I reckon,” he replied. “My daddy is disabled, and the family has been sacrificing to let me finish high school. It’ll be my turn to work now, and help my little sisters. By the way, my name is Clark Randolph.”

Beth turned startled green eyes in his direction. A Randolph! Just my luck, she thought. When the bus slowed down to pick up other students, without speaking again, Beth moved to another seat, then stared out the window as the bus weaved in and out of the narrow streets of Harlan.

Why of all the places on this bus did she have to have sat beside a Randolph? If John Warner heard about it, that would be the end of her high-school days. For as long as she could remember, Beth had been taught that Warners and Randolphs were enemies. No one had ever spelled out why in so many words, but her father’s shotgun was always loaded against the Randolphs, and it galled John Warner that he had to live in the shadow of Randolph Mountain.

By the time Beth had been born, hostilities were confined to fights at dances, or backing opposing candidates in elections, but from the tales she had heard, in the early days of the century, the feud had been a bloody one.

After World War II and the closure of many mines, most of the Warners and Randolphs had scattered to other vicinities, and there weren’t many left in the mountains to carry on the feud. Still, John Warner continued to nurse the grudge and would cross the street rather than come face-to-face with any Randolph. So why did that cute, friendly boy have to be a Randolph?

When the bus stopped at the elementary school, Beth helped Bryce get down from the vehicle, and smiled when a waiting teacher took charge of the boy. “I’ll help you off the bus tonight, Bryce, so don’t worry,” she called to him, and he waved shyly at her.

She’d been so caught up in Bryce’s problem that she’d forgotten for a while the unknown awaiting her. She realized that she didn’t have any idea where to go to enroll, so when the bus stopped at the high school she remained seated while the other students exited. When Clark passed by her, he paused, pointing, “You go through that door and turn to the right to reach the office. That’s where you have to register.” She nodded her thanks, and he motioned for her to precede him down the aisle.

As she moved toward the doors he had indicated, Clark said, “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“Beth Warner.”

The distress in Clark’s brown eyes was quickly replaced by laughter. “Oh, I see,” he said knowingly. “That’s too bad.”

For the next two months, Beth was keenly aware of Clark as she boarded the bus each morning. If she met his gaze, he’d nod hello with a big smile. She’d nod back, but she carefully avoided any conversation with him. Occasionally, as he passed her seat, Clark would tug tenderly on her hair and lay his warm hand on her shoulder, but she ignored him. Her ears were always alert to any comment about Clark by her friends, and she had learned that he lived with his family in the Harlan school district, but that they also had a country home where they spent weekends and summers.

To her surprise, Beth did well academically in school, and soon had friends among girls who were much like her—those with very little money, from large families, and who received scant encouragement at home for furthering their education.

Beth made friends cautiously, but her shy, affectionate smile endeared her to teachers and students alike. That she seemed unaware of her rare beauty—which was accented by a firm little chin below even, white teeth, and a shapely mouth with full lips—made her peers take notice of her.

Beth was attentive in class and studied hard each night. She made above-average grades, for she considered that education was the only way to further her dreams of leaving Kentucky. On Friday evenings, Beth’s parents came to take her home and brought her back to Harlan on Monday mornings. Beth felt guilty when she realized how much her parents looked forward to seeing her each weekend. She understood that the house was bleak when she went away, and her conscience was troubled.

Besides her school studies, Beth was getting some practical experience in being a caregiver, for she had volunteered to spend several hours each night with Angie Reymond, an elderly friend of her grandmother who needed someone to stay with her while her daughter was at work. Angie’s income was limited, and she could only afford to hire a person to stay during the day. Beth didn’t mind sitting with the elderly woman because she could do her homework there as well as at her grandmother’s home.

Several boys at school had noticed her, but none had captivated her thoughts like Clark. Each day on the bus, he continued to show interest in her but she continued to ignore him—not that she personally had any ill will toward the Randolphs, but she didn’t want to irritate her father, whom she loved in spite of his prejudices.

One Saturday afternoon in late October, Beth was walking in the woods atop Randolph Mountain, unwilling to stay inside on such a beautiful day. Autumn was waning, and she wanted to enjoy the last vestiges of the season’s beauty before a windy winter blast rolled down the mountain, bringing drabness and isolation.

She had been climbing steadily, and the afternoon was warm, so Beth pulled off her jacket and leaned against a towering oak as she peered through the trees at the Cumberland River Valley to the west. A haze hung over the valley, but she could see the crowded, narrow streets of Harlan, and her school building in the middle of town.

“Hi, Beth Warner.” The voice startled her, and she looked around wildly. She hadn’t suspected that anyone else would be hiking today. “Look up. I’m in the tree.”

Beth recognized his voice, and she looked upward to see Clark peering over the edge of a hunting platform, loftily perched in the branches of the large oak tree.

“Hi, Clark Randolph.”

“Come on up,” he said, indicating the homemade ladder attached to the tree. “The view is a lot better from up here.”

“Warners don’t talk to Randolphs.”

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why won’t Warners talk to Randolphs?”

Beth thought for a while, and she laughed. “I don’t have the least idea.”

“Neither do I,” Clark said. “Here, I’ll give you a hand.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Beth set her foot on the first rung of the ladder, thus charting her course along a path that had brought her pleasure and comfort, but which had also caused much of the grief and loneliness she was experiencing today. She hadn’t thought of the long-range consequences that day, however.

With an outstretched hand, Clark was waiting to help her onto the platform where he knelt.

“What are you doing up here?” Beth asked, glancing around with interest.

“Looking into your pretty green eyes,” he said.

“Oh, be serious. I mean, what were you doing before I came along?”

“Building a deer stand for hunting season. I had one down the mountain a ways, but it’s crumbled into ruins.” He pointed proudly to what he had already accomplished—a square platform built from rough lumber, with a miniature shack in the middle of it. “I built the little room to sit in if it’s raining or snowing. Most of the time, I’ll sit here on the platform and watch.”

“Do you own this mountain?”

He laughed. “Mining companies own most of these woods, but some of the owners allow hunting.”

“I never come in the woods during deer season.”

“A good idea—it’s too dangerous. But that’s three weeks away. You can ramble around until then.”

Beth sat beside Clark and they dangled their feet over the side of the platform.

“How are you getting along at school, Beth?”

“All right. I’ve been studying hard, and my grades for the first grading period were tops. My parents are really proud of me.”

“I’ve heard how you’ve been sitting at night with Mrs. Reymond. Not many girls would give up their evenings to sit with an old lady. I hear she’s kinda grouchy, too.”

Beth laughed. “She is, but I’m used to grouchy old people. My daddy is grouchy with everyone except me. It’s because they don’t feel very well, so I just overlook it.”

Clark’s admiration for her was evident in his eyes. “You’re a caring person, Beth. I admire that.”

His candor embarrassed Beth, and she didn’t know how to answer him, so she lifted a hand and brushed back her long hair nervously.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Beth, but you acted like you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I was afraid to talk to you. My folks weren’t too keen on my going to school in Harlan anyway, and I figured if Daddy heard I’d been talking to a Randolph, that would be a good excuse to take me out of school.”

“So it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be friends?”

Beth shook her head, lowering her eyes.

With a gentle hand, Clark turned her head to face him. “Answer me, Bethie,” his deep voice insisted.

“No, I liked you right from the start,” she admitted, her gaze meeting his brown eyes unflinchingly. “Until I found out who you were.”

“These old feuds are foolish, anyway,” Clark said.

“I’ve never known what caused the trouble. Daddy always gets so angry when I ask him, I’ve stopped mentioning the Randolphs.”

“Best I can figure out, the Warners and the Randolphs fought on different sides in the Civil War, and they wouldn’t let their differences die when the war ended.”

“That’s over a hundred years ago!”

“But it was a common situation in many border states where loyalties were divided. Even after the fighting ended, older people harped on the past and kept the bitterness stirred up.”

“Like my daddy,” Beth said. “He doesn’t have anything else to think about.”

“Then you will be my friend?” Clark persisted.

“If we can keep my family from finding out, but that won’t be easy.”

“We can meet up here until it’s really cold, and then we’ll think of something else. I feel as if I just have to be with you, Beth. Something happened to my heart that first day when you got on the school bus, and I haven’t been able to get you out of my thoughts since.”

Beth felt her face flushing, and she couldn’t meet Clark’s eyes, but she didn’t resist when he took her hand in his. She didn’t doubt the truth of Clark’s words, for hadn’t she felt the same? Some of her girlfriends would talk about crushes they had on boys. Some even believed they were in love. Beth had never felt that way about a boy. But the way she felt about Clark was different. All new. A giddy feeling, yet serious and even frightening. Did she love Clark? Was that what had happened to her?

She hoped not, because Clark Randolph was not the kind of person who could share her plans for the future. He intended to work in the coal mines as soon as he graduated from high school, and she never wanted to marry a miner.

“What about your family, Clark? Is your father a miner?”

“He used to be, but he was hurt in a slate fall when I was just a boy, and he’s not been able to work since. I have two little sisters, and my mother takes care of all of us. She hasn’t had an easy life, but you never hear her complaining. My daddy is a preacher now.”

Clark looked upward at the colorful foliage and the white clouds floating by in a baby-blue sky, then sighed deeply. “Do you know what I think of when I’m out in the woods on a day like this? I think of God. What do you think of, Beth?”

“I don’t think of God, that’s for sure. I think of the beauty, I suppose.”

“But God is the one who created all of this beauty that reminds me of the words of the psalmist David, ‘The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handiwork.’ How could you not think of God?”

Beth’s legs were getting numb, and she inched away from the side of the platform to lean against the small structure. Clark moved close to her as a slight breeze scattered reddish-brown oak leaves over their shoulders.

“If your father is a preacher, then you probably hear a lot about God at your house, but my daddy doesn’t hold with religion. The only time I ever hear God mentioned is when my half brothers are visiting. They cuss a lot, using God’s name.”

“But I want you to know the God I do, Bethie. I can tell you’re lonely and fearful lots of times. If you accept Jesus, God’s son, into your heart, life will be a lot more peaceful for you.”

“Perhaps what you say is true, but when I’ve gotten this far without God, I don’t figure I need Him now.”

“Someday you’ll change your mind. You’ll want God really bad, and if you do, call out to Him. He will hear you.”

Clark’s words were foreign to Beth, but because she liked to hear him talk, she listened, and for the first time, a tiny seed was planted in Beth’s heart.




Chapter Two (#ulink_8ddbeb3c-4285-5e7a-9cfd-4aea5c3af002)


Their secret friendship continued throughout the rest of the school year, and while their interest in each other must have been evident to their classmates, Beth’s family didn’t learn about it. They sat together on the bus occasionally, although they tried to be casual about it. Sometimes when he walked past her seat, Clark would drop a folded note into her lap. By spring she had accumulated many of them. Beth hid the notes in a shoe box beneath her bed. She wouldn’t throw Clark’s messages away, but if she didn’t hide them, either her mother or grandmother was sure to find them.



Beth got out of bed and walked around the cold motel room, her eyes misting when she thought of those notes. She still had them in her possession, but she didn’t need to read them anymore—the words of most of them were etched on her heart. As the sound of running water in the rooms beside hers signaled that morning had come, she remembered one of the messages he had given her “You’re looking mighty pretty this morning. The sun is shining on your hair, making it the color of autumn leaves. I dreamed about you last night, Bethie.”

On the day before the schools closed for the Christmas holidays that year, Clark had slipped a note to her when they passed in the hallway.

His message was brief: “Try to come to the tree stand on Christmas Eve. I’ll be there around noon.”

Christmas had no particular significance for Beth’s family, although some of her half siblings and their families usually came for the day. Beth had worked hard for two days helping her mother prepare for the meal, and Mrs. Warner had no objection when her daughter stated her intention of hiking for a few hours.

Beth suspected that Clark would bring her a present, and she wanted to buy something for him, but since her parents were sacrificing to pay her school expenses, she wouldn’t use any of their scarce money to buy a gift for a Randolph. Before she left the house, she slipped one of her school pictures into her pocket

The weather was mild for December, and Beth was panting hard and sweating profusely before she reached the tree house, where Clark was already waiting at the base of the tree. His brown eyes brightened when he saw her, and he pulled her into his arms—a liberty he hadn’t taken before.

“Merry Christmas, Bethie,” he whispered, and lowered his head to kiss her lips tenderly.

Breathless, Beth whispered, “It’s my first kiss.”

“Mine, too. You’re the first girl I’ve ever wanted to kiss,” Clark said, and he bent over and kissed her again.

“See what I’ve been doing while I waited.” He pointed to the trunk of a beech tree, where he had carved a large heart to enclose his initials and hers. “C.R. loves B.W.,” he read proudly.

In an effort to slow the acceleration of her heartbeat, Beth said sternly, “I hope none of my family sees that.”

Clark laughed. “Not likely that they will. It’s cold and windy up on the platform. Let’s walk around the mountain and find a spot in the sun.”

Hand in hand, they wandered into the deeper woods, and Beth said, “I feel terrible sneaking around to meet you this way. There have been a few times I’ve been tempted to tell Mom, but I’m afraid she’ll tell Daddy, and that would be the end of our friendship.”

Clark squeezed the hand he held. “I’ve been praying for a way for us to be together always without keeping it a secret.”

Beth grew tense as she always did when Clark mentioned the future.

“Do you ever think of leaving here?” she asked.

Clark stopped in midstride and turned to her in surprise. “‘Leaving’? You don’t mean—leave Kentucky?”

She nodded. “I want to go someplace else to live as soon as I graduate from high school. I don’t suppose I’ll have enough money to go to college, but I’m going to take secretarial courses during my last two years in school, and I should be able to find a job. I thought I could save some money and try to go to college at night.”

“What do you have against Kentucky?”

“I don’t want to live as my parents have. And I can’t see that my life will ever improve if I don’t move away.”

They sat down at the entrance to a small cave where the sun shone directly on them. “It seems we have different ideas about what the future holds for us,” Clark said, disappointment evident in his voice.

Beth was sorry to have hurt Clark’s feelings, but she had to be honest with him. “I thought I should tell you.”

Clark drew a package from his pocket “This may not be the kind of gift you want, but even if we don’t agree on the future, I know that you’ll never be truly content unless you follow the way of life presented in this book. If you want to serve other people, the path starts here.”

Unsuspecting, Beth opened the package and found a Bible. Trying to stifle her disappointment, she murmured, “Thank you,” wondering why he thought she would want a Bible.

Beth had attended church with her grandmother a few times, so she had some basic knowledge about what the Bible was, but she’d never read it for herself, and it felt like a heavy weight lying in her hand and on her heart. Perhaps sensing this, Clark said, “I hope you’ll read it, and a good place to start would be the New Testament. A new way of life will open to you when you read these words.”

“I don’t know, Clark,” Beth said hesitantly.

“You do believe in God, don’t you?”

“I haven’t thought about it a lot.”

“Promise me you’ll read it.”

He took the Bible from her hands and opened it “Why not start with the Christmas story?” He turned to the second chapter of Luke. “‘And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed.’”

The reverence in his voice and the intent expression on his face disturbed Beth, and she quickly took the Bible from his hand.

“All right, I’ll read it, but I have to go home now. I told Mom I wouldn’t be gone very long. I’m worried about her, Clark. I think she’s sick and won’t tell me. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her. Daddy can’t stay by himself, so I would probably have to quit school and stay home to take care of him. I love my parents, and I suppose my decision to be of service to others should start at home, but I can’t bear the thoughts of being stuck in that hollow for the rest of my life.”

Clark put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they walked along the narrow trail. “I’ll take care of you, Bethie.”

Before they parted, Beth said, “I didn’t know what to give you for Christmas, but I thought you might like this.” She withdrew the photo of herself from her pocket and handed it to Clark.

His face lighted, and he kissed the photo. “You couldn’t have given me anything to please me more. I wanted one of your pictures and thought of giving you one of mine, but I was afraid I’d get you into trouble.”

“It’s true that I can’t have your photo around the house.”

Clark pulled her into a tight embrace, and when he lowered his lips to hers, a new, strange emotion stirred in the deepest recesses of Beth’s heart. Since it was strange, it was also frightening; but as Clark’s kiss intensified, the tender, sweet feelings that swept over her seemed so wondrous and precious. Was this love? Would it persist, or would she awaken tomorrow wondering what had sparked this rare emotion?

Beth’s arms were around Clark’s neck when he lifted his lips, and she looked long into his eyes, trying to interpret what message they held for her, but Clark didn’t leave her to wonder.

“I love you, Bethie. I have since the first day I saw you, and I’ll love you until I die.”

“How can you be so sure?” Beth murmured. “Lots of things could happen to turn your love from me.”

“I guess I’m like Daddy. The minute he saw my mother, he knew she was the girl for him.”

“I care for you, too, Clark. I think about you all the time when we’re apart. But you know as well as I do, there’s no future for us together.”

He shook his head as if he wouldn’t accept her decision, but she pulled away from him after placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

As Beth walked down the mountain, she thought of what she had experienced when he’d kissed her. She didn’t want to love Clark. She wanted to love a man who would take her away from Harlan County, and Clark obviously wouldn’t. Not that Beth had anything against Kentucky in general. She wouldn’t mind living in Louisville or Lexington—she was just tired of Warner Hollow, and she wanted to get away from her half brothers, who were always in some kind of trouble with the law.

When she got home, Beth locked the Bible in a small cedar chest in her room, but that night after she undressed, she retrieved the Bible and took it into bed with her. The room was too cold for her to stay up for long, but she did open to the Gospel of Luke where Clark had told her to read. The account of the birth of Jesus was interesting, but it meant no more to her than a story she might read in a history book. As she leafed through the pages of the Bible, she noticed that Clark had underlined certain verses. She didn’t read all of them, but one caught her eye, and she read aloud, “‘Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would be utterly contemned.’”

Was this another way Clark had of declaring his love for her?

Beth tucked the Bible under her pillow and turned out the light. As she snuggled under the heavy quilts, she thought of the two gifts Clark had given her today—his love and the Bible. Sleep would have come much more quickly if she hadn’t been beset by the overwhelming certainty that her future happiness depended on the value she placed on those gifts.



As Beth dressed for the day she remembered that Christmas Eve long ago. She recalled how, in spite of her dreams of the future, she had never believed that she could achieve the goal she had now reached. Her good fortune had come about as a result of a scholarship. During her last year in high school, she had applied for and received a grant awarded annually by Shriver Mining Company for the orphan of a disabled miner.

The grant had guaranteed funds for a five-year curriculum or less, depending upon the choice of careers. It provided for tuition, books, housing, food, and a transportation allowance. The recipient of the scholarship would matriculate at a college in eastern Pennsylvania that was heavily endowed by Shriver Mining Company, and she could choose from a variety of vocations, most of them specifically planned for service in the coalfields. All of this had sounded fine until Beth came to the last few lines.

This scholarship is conditional upon the willingness of the recipient, after graduation, to return to Kentucky and work for two years in the coalmining region, using her training for the good of the people in the area. The recipient will be compensated by the prevailing wage at that time in the profession she has chosen.

Beth’s disappointment had been as keen as a knife wound when she’d read that stipulation, for she had considered the scholarship a ticket to a life outside Kentucky, and momentarily, she had considered rejecting it, but would she ever have a better opportunity for advancement? Probably not.

There had been no money from any other source. She had accepted the scholarship, and latently remembering her dream to be a second Florence Nightingale, had registered in a five-year program that would qualify her as an advanced registered nurse-practitioner. She’d completed her training in four and a half years by taking classes at night and during summer sessions. She had also worked for a year, at a minimal wage, in the maternity department of a local hospital in order to be certified in midwifery. Her strenuous schedule had left her no free time, and she hadn’t been back to Kentucky since she’d left

In fact, she hadn’t wanted to come back even now. But she had committed herself, and she had an eleven o’clock appointment in Lexington with Milton Shriver, CEO of Shriver Mining Company. As she accessed I-75, heading north, a glance at her watch showed that she had two hours remaining until then.



No wonder Shriver Mining could afford to pay my way through college, Beth thought when she drove into the company’s paved parking lot and found an empty spot reserved for visitors. The four-story brick building had been built ten years ago, she noted on the cornerstone. If she could work here, perhaps her two years of service, which she had been dreading like a prison sentence, might not be too bad.

Beth was a little worried about her appearance, for her wardrobe was limited. She had dressed this morning in a gray wool suit she’d found at a thrift shop. It looked nearly new and the classic tailored style didn’t look totally out of fashion. She wore it with a green blouse that enhanced her eyes, and had added the pearl necklace and earrings that had been a high-school graduation gift from her grandmother. She had applied makeup sparingly except for an extra dab of foundation below her eyes, which were weary from lack of sleep.

As Beth entered the building, her small supple body was mirrored in the gleaming front door, and she appraised her appearance. She couldn’t afford anything better, but overall her outfit looked fashionable.

“I have an appointment with Milton Shriver,” she said to the receptionist, in a voice that trembled slightly.

“Your name?” the woman inquired, looking Beth over curiously, making her wonder if the receptionist could tell she was wearing secondhand clothing.

“Beth Warner.”

The woman spoke into the intercom. “Beth Warner to see you, Mr. Shriver.”

“Please show her to my office,” a deep voice answered.

“This way,” the tall, well-proportioned woman said, leaving her chair with one fluid movement and indicating that Beth should follow her. Their footsteps made no noise on the thick carpet as they moved down the hallway, the walls of which were lined with portraits of past company officials.

The receptionist opened the door into a large room decorated with framed black-and-white photos of mining activities in an earlier period, and said, “This is Mr. Shriver, Miss Warner,” and motioned Beth inside.

A portly, graying man, probably in his sixties, Shriver left his desk and came to greet Beth. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Warner. I had hoped that you would pay us a visit before this.”

“I didn’t have any time for visiting. I kept to a heavy schedule so that I could finish my training early. Besides, Grandmother Blaine, my guardian, died the summer I went away to college, and I didn’t have any other ties here. This is the first time I’ve returned to Kentucky since I went away to college.”

Seating Beth in a chair near his desk, Shriver said, “We’re pleased with your college record. It’s customary for the director of student affairs at the college to give us an annual report on the progress of our scholarship recipients. You’re to be congratulated for your achievements.”

Beth accepted his praise with a nod. “I owed it to Shriver Mining to learn as much as possible. I appreciate winning the scholarship—I could never have gone to college without it. And now, what am I to do for the next two years?”

Shriver smiled. “We hope that you will consider working many years for our firm, but after two years, you are free to make your own decision.” He intertwined his fingers as he contemplated. “We were pleased when you chose the nursing profession, because one of our greatest concerns is the health of our miners and their families. And there’s a trend in our area for women to prefer home birthing, so your training in midwifery was an excellent choice.”

“My paternal grandmother was a rather famous midwife, and I may have inherited the desire to follow in her footsteps.”

“We’re currently launching a program of health care and are anticipating your help in getting it started out. We plan to establish an outpatient clinic—which we want you to organize and manage—with a major focus on service to women and children. Our miners’ families can come there, at minimal cost, for their health needs. And you would also be available for assisting at home births if the women prefer that.”

“There wouldn’t be a doctor at the clinic?”

“Yes, in a supervisory role. Wesley Andrews, a notable doctor in the area, would be at the clinic a few hours each week, but you will take part of the heavy load he carries by monitoring blood pressure and similar problems, giving immunization shots, and treating colds and flu. But maternity care will be your major focus, with prenatal and postnatal instruction as you can fit those classes into your schedule. Later on, if this proves successful, we will build other clinics. This will be a pilot project, and your success will greatly influence our plans for expansion. What do you think?”

She stared at the man for a few minutes—incredulous that he would expect one person to do all that work. And a person with so little professional experience, besides.

“It sounds rather overwhelming, but I’m hardly in a position to refuse,” she replied honestly.

Shriver laughed lightly. “I’ll admit I would be disappointed if you refused this assignment, but I also know that if you aren’t willing, aren’t excited about the project, it won’t be successful.”

“Of course, I’ll accept it and do the best I can. It sounds as if it could be a great benefit to the miners and their families. Where’s the clinic located?”

“Near Shriver Mine No. 10 in Harlan County.”

Beth clutched the arms of the chair as dizziness swept over her, and the face of Milton Shriver faded before her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, as he rose to assist her. “Are you ill?”

She waved him back to his chair, swallowed with difficulty, and tried to force a smile. “You gave me quite a shock. I was born in Harlan County and lived there until I was sixteen years old. Memories of my childhood aren’t pleasant, and I’d hoped that I would never have to live there again.”

Shriver’s face showed his surprise. “When you graduated from high school in Prestonburg, we naturally assumed that was your home. I didn’t know that you had any connection to Harlan County.”

“It’s been home to the Warners for over two hundred years, but I moved to Prestonburg with my maternal grandmother after the death of my parents.”

“Under these circumstances,” he replied kindly, “I won’t hold you to your agreement to take over the clinic, but I would like for you to take a week to look over the situation before you reject it completely. I’ll have one of our executives accompany you to Harlan County and show you the clinic and the area where you would work. He’s an expert on conditions in the coalfields of eastern Kentucky. Just a minute, I’ll have him come in—he’s planning to take you to lunch.”

Shriver walked to a door that opened into an adjoining office.

“Will you come in now, please?” A man then appeared in the open doorway, and at first, Beth didn’t recognize him; he looked so different from the man she had once known.

“Beth, I want you to meet Clark Randolph, although Clark tells me that you’re already acquainted. Clark will be your supervisor—your contact with the company.”

Again, dizziness assailed Beth, but she struggled to her feet, wanting to run away, and the face she had once known so well blurred before her. This couldn’t be Clark—no longer a miner, but a well-groomed executive, dressed in a dark business suit, silk tie, and white shirt, looking right at home in the headquarters of Shriver Mining Company.

But when he walked toward her, she knew it was Clark. Clothes couldn’t change his graceful, easy tread, and his steady and serene gaze, which held her spellbound when he held out his hand. “Hello, Beth.”

“Hello,” she squeaked, and her voice sounded unnatural. Desperately needing some link to steady her nerves, she gripped his hand tightly, and even in the trauma of the moment, she noticed that his hands were not rough to the touch as they had been the last time she’d seen him.

Why had she ever come back to Kentucky? If she had taken a job elsewhere, she could eventually have repaid Shriver Mining the amount of the scholarship.

Milton Shriver looked from one to the other, his eyes keen question marks. Try as she would, Beth could not control her emotions. Clark had expected to see her, and he seemed to be at ease. In such a short time, how could Clark have progressed from an underground miner to the position he held here? Beth felt as if her face had a plaster cast over it, and she could hardly move her lips when she turned to Shriver.

“When do you want to see me again?”

“This afternoon or tomorrow, after you and Clark have had an opportunity to talk over your work.”

“I guess I’ll need to check into a motel if I’m going to be here a few days.”

“That will be at our expense, Miss Warner. Clark will take care of it for you.”

“Thank you.” Without looking at Clark, Beth turned and walked out into the hall, but she could hear his footsteps behind her, and when they reached the front office, he said to the receptionist, “Stephanie, I’ll be out of the office for a few hours.” The woman favored Beth with a sharp glance, and Beth wondered if Stephanie could sense the tension between herself and Clark.

Clark opened the door for Beth, then took her arm as they went down the steps. Her nerves tightened at his touch.

“We’ll go in my car,” he said, and he led her to a red sport-utility vehicle, which had Shriver Mining Company emblazoned on the door. When she stepped inside, the last vestige of control to which she had so tenaciously held, deserted her, and she dropped her head on the padded dashboard and sobbed—hard, wrenching sobs that shook her entire body. As far as Beth could remember, she hadn’t cried since she’d left Kentucky, but now she couldn’t stop as she sobbed out the frustrations and disappointments of a lifetime. Clark remained silent, though from time to time she felt his strong hand tenderly touch her shoulder or stroke her hair.

Last night, she had determined to forget the past, but as Clark drove quietly out of the parking lot and accessed Interstate 64 heading east, Beth’s thoughts turned to the tumultuous incidents that had taken her away from Warner Hollow.



After the Christmas when Clark had declared his love for her, eastern Kentucky had been plunged into two months of inclement weather that closed the schools for weeks, and when they reopened, Beth was marooned at her home in Warner Hollow for an additional two weeks.

Consequently, she fell behind in her studies and her grades weren’t nearly as good as they had been the first semester. She rarely saw Clark. They exchanged a few words on the school bus and passed an occasional note, but there was no opportunity to discuss what had happened between them on Christmas Eve.

When spring came, Clark signed up for the softball team, and he practiced after school and played on Saturdays. He took his father’s car to school so he could have transportation home after ball practice, so he didn’t often ride the bus.

One Friday afternoon in late April, however, Clark boarded the bus, and he sat beside Beth and slipped a note into her hand. She secreted the note in the pocket of her jacket, but she went to her bedroom as soon as she could and read his words: “Meet me at the tree stand, Sunday afternoon.”

Beth was excited to have the opportunity to see Clark again, and she thought about it constantly until it was time to meet him. She hurried up the mountain, and she was panting when she reached their rendezvous, disappointed to find that she was there ahead of Clark.

He came before too long, apologizing. “We were late getting home from church this morning, and we have another meeting tonight, so I can’t stay long.” He drew her into his arms. “I’ve missed you.”

“Same here. I thought the winter would never end.”

They climbed the ladder and sat on the platform. The sun shining through the tree branches showing the first signs of foliage was warm and relaxing.

“Looks as if the squirrels used our place as a kitchen table this winter,” Clark said as he brushed acorn hulls and hickory-nut shells from the wide boards.

He sat beside her, with his arm around her shoulder, and Beth leaned against him.

“Beth, will you go to the prom with me?”

She drew a quick breath. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare. It might start the feud again.”

“Who’s left to fight? Hardly any Randolphs live around here except my family, and we aren’t going to be involved in a feud.”

“My half brothers would pick a fight with anyone. As you may have gathered, I’m not very proud of my relatives. My sister, Luellen, doesn’t like me, and the two boys are always in some kind of trouble. They would sue you in a minute if they thought they could make any money off you.”

“We don’t have any money, so I’ll risk it. Will you go with me?”

“Let me think about it.”

Wanting very much to attend the prom, Beth asked her mother for her permission, omitting the fact that freshmen couldn’t go unless they went with an upperclassman.

“You’d need a new dress, I reckon.”

Her heart lightening, Beth said, “I can send a letter to Pam, and she could pick out something suitable at that secondhand store. I’ve gotten through this year with the clothes she helped me to buy. She’ll know what I need, and it won’t cost much.”

Beth felt guilty deceiving her parents, but she didn’t once lie to them—she just didn’t tell them everything. She’d told her grandmother, though, that she wanted to go to the prom with Clark Randolph, and Ella had replied, “Why not? Why should you be punished for what happened more than a hundred years ago? Besides, I know the Randolphs—they’re good people and their son is a fine boy. Go and enjoy yourself.”

Pam mailed Beth an ankle-length white chiffon party dress, decorated with pearls on the bodice and neckline. It looked like new, as if it hadn’t been worn more than once. Beth’s mother was not demonstrative about her affection, but Beth knew that she was proud of her daughter’s looks, and she insisted that Beth have a new pair of shoes. So Beth bought a pair of white low-heeled sling pumps, and she was pleased with her appearance as she dressed for the prom.

When Clark came to pick her up, he brought her a corsage of pink carnations. He was dressed in a new blue suit, white shirt, and tie, and Beth admired his sturdy and finely made body, both wiry and strong. She had never seen him in dress clothes before, and she thought what a pity that he wouldn’t choose a profession in which he could appear so dashing all the time.

Neither Beth nor Clark knew how to dance, but they enjoyed listening to the music and watching the others. She had a good time, and it was an evening to remember, but when the prom was over, instead of driving back to her grandmother’s house, Clark drove along the highway for several miles. When he turned onto a secondary road, Beth gave him a quick look.

“Where are you going?”

“Beth, I won’t keep you out late, but I want to talk to you.”

After he parked the car, he put his arms around Beth, and he didn’t keep her in doubt about his intentions.

“I’ve told you that I love you, and now I want to propose. I want to marry you, Beth. I’m going to work in the mines next month, and I’ll be making good money. I can support a wife, as well as help out my family.”

Beth’s heart beat like a drum. The thought of marriage to Clark seemed like a happy dream. A dream that could actually come true. But she was determined that her mind, rather than her heart, would rule her. She moved away from him.

“Clark, I don’t want to get married. I’ve finally gotten my parents to agree to send me to high school, and I want to go to college if I can find a way. Besides, I’m only sixteen.”

“Lots of girls marry at sixteen, and you could still go to school,” he insisted. “We can live with my parents.”

“Live with your parents! What kind of life would that be?”

“I’ll need to help support my family, and it will be easier if we’re all under the same roof. Besides, if you’re going to school, you wouldn’t have time to take care of a house, and Mother wouldn’t mind.”

She put her hand over his mouth to stop his words, and he nibbled her fingers.

Steeling herself to ignore his caress, she said, “Clark, listen to me…. I don’t want to hurt you, but I tried to tell you once before. I’m not interested in marrying anyone right now, but when I do marry, it won’t be to a coal miner. I want to marry someone who will take me away from that kind of life—the fear of cave-ins like the one that disabled your father, the danger of diseases caused by being underground so much, the dread of losing your husband in a mine disaster. It’s a hard life.”

Beth hadn’t noticed any stubbornness in Clark before, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer this time.

“If you loved me, you’d be willing to accept my way of life.”

“That’s another way we differ. Most people I know believe it’s a woman’s duty to sacrifice every personal aspiration for the man in her life. I’m not willing to do that. My mother asked me once why I couldn’t be like the other girls in our neighborhood, and I told her I didn’t know. I still don’t know why I’m different, but I am. And you know how much I want to have a profession of my own. Besides,” she continued, “I haven’t told you that I love you.”

“But you do, don’t you?”

“I probably do,” she admitted quietly. His brown eyes gazing into her own shone with a hopeful light. But it was quickly extinguished when she added, “But I don’t see that loving you changes anything for me, Clark. I’m sorry.”

Without another word, Clark turned the car around and started back toward town. Beth longed to erase the misery reflected on his face, but she doubted that his pain was any worse than the agony in her own heart. Regardless of how much it hurt, she couldn’t do what he wanted.

When he stopped in front of the Blaine home, Clark took her hand and said, “I’m not mad at you, Bethie—only sorry that you don’t love me as much as I love you.”

“Let me ask you a question, Clark. You think I don’t love you because I won’t marry you and settle down in Harlan County for the rest of my life. If I married you, would you leave Kentucky and go with me to live in some other state?”

His startled brown eyes met hers, luminous in the glow of the streetlight. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I can’t go away and leave my family without some help. I have an obligation to them.”

“Then we’re at an impasse.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“You know the answer as well as I do, Clark.”

“You mean we should stop seeing each other?”

“What else? Why keep turning a knife that will only cause deeper pain?”

“It will break my heart, but I’ll do what you say.”

“We won’t be seeing each other much now anyway, since you won’t be going to school.”

“We could meet on the mountain now that spring has come,” he said hopefully.

Beth shook her head, and Clark drew her into his arms and drained the depth of his despair onto her lips. “I thought this was going to be the happiest night of my life,” he said. “Instead, it’s the blackest.”

Beth held him tightly for a moment, savoring his closeness, then slipped out of his arms, and seemingly out of his life. With brimming eyes, she jumped from the car and ran up the steps and into the house.

Beth was startled when a horn sounded behind them, and realizing that Clark was driving more slowly, she lifted her head as he exited the interstate onto a secondary road.

“Please excuse my behavior, Clark,” she said. “Now that I’m back in Kentucky, I keep remembering incidents of the past I thought I’d forgotten completely. Believe me, I’m not usually so weepy.”

She sensed that Clark was grinning, although she wouldn’t look directly at him.

“I’ve never thought of you as a crybaby, but you’ve had plenty of reason to cry.”

“I’ve been thinking about the night I went with you to the prom.”

“I’ve thought of that lots of times, too. You sure were pretty in that white dress.”

“The pink corsage made it look nicer. You were so handsome in your new suit, and I was happy to be your date.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry the night had to end on a sour note.”

Clark patted her hands where they lay clenched in her lap. “That’s the way it should have been, so don’t worry about it. We can’t do anything about the past.”

Beth sighed, and cupped her fingers around his. “The rest of that year was the worst time of my life.”

“I know, and I wish I could have helped you more. I thought my heart would break when you moved away.”

Beth’s thoughts drifted back to the dismal closing days of her freshman year. Those were heartrending days without Clark’s attention—days that were only a prelude to what the summer held for Beth. In mid-June her mother had a heart attack and died before an ambulance could reach the hollow; and moments after John Warner realized that his wife was dead, he slumped in his rocking chair and, gasping for breath, also died.

For the two days prior to the funeral, Beth wandered around in a state of shock. Her half siblings flocked into the house, took over burial arrangements, insisting that the property belonged to them now; and legally it did, because John had deeded the property to his first wife before he’d joined the army during World War IL Beth had no desire to own the property, but she did need a home.

That problem was solved when Ella Blaine arrived at the house and said, “Pack your things, Beth, and as soon as the funeral is over, I’m taking you to live with me all the time.” Ella took a long look at the coffin of her youngest daughter. “But we won’t stay in Harlan County. There are too many bad memories for both of us here. I’m going to sell out and move to Prestonburg where my other children live—I only stayed here to be close to Mary.” Beth was heartened by that news, especially since Pam and Ray Gordon had also moved to Prestonburg, and at that distance, she would be rid of her half siblings, and unlikely to see Clark at all, although she did wish she could see him once more before she left the area.

Quite a large gathering of neighbors and family came to the funeral, most of them arriving a day early so they could participate in the double wake. When Beth followed the funeral procession out of the house, she saw Clark standing to one side, his brown eyes full of compassion. It was unheard of for a Randolph to attend a Warner funeral, and it must have taken a lot of courage to risk the hostility that would ensue if he were recognized.

After the graveside service, Beth looked around to see if Clark had gone. He was standing apart from the others, and she walked to his side.

He reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry, Bethie.”

At first her throat was too tight for speech. Clark lifted a hand and wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks, and his touch was rough on her face. That’s what the coal mines do to you, she thought bitterly. Only a month in the mine, and already, his hands were rough and scruffy.

“I’m leaving right away, Clark, to live with my grandmother. I’ll finish high school in Prestonburg.”

“The mountains are going to seem mighty empty without you, but I can see that it’s best for you to leave. Will I ever see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

After the shock of her parents’ tragic deaths had worn off, Beth had enjoyed living in Prestonburg. She’d made new friends, and her grades were above average. At times her wayward thoughts turned to Clark and the love they had known, but, with determination, she pushed the memories aside. She liked living near Pam Gordon, and she spent a lot of time at the Gordons’ house, especially when Ray was touring with his band.

Thinking of her friend, Beth said, “I stopped by Prestonburg to see Pam a couple of days ago, and learned they’d moved. Do you see Ray and Pam often?”

“Not as much as I did before I came to Lexington. Haven’t you kept in touch with Pam?”

Shaking her head, Beth said, “No, and I’m ashamed to admit it. As good as Pam was to help me when I was in high school, I should at least have sent her a Christmas card. I thought I was better off to forget people in Kentucky, but I’m beginning to have second thoughts about it.”

Yes, Pam had helped her buy clothes and supported her in everything she wanted to do, but they couldn’t agree about Beth’s friendship with Alex.

In the closing months of her senior year, her life changed completely when she met Alex Connor.

Alex was associated with the United States Foreign Service, and was in Kentucky to determine how the state’s products, particularly coal and tobacco, could be expanded into overseas markets. He had a temporary office in Prestonburg, and Beth was assigned to work there a few hours each week to fulfill the requirements of her business-cooperative course, whereby high-school seniors gained work experience in local businesses.

Alex seemed the embodiment of Beth’s dreams. He was educated, he was handsome—blond-haired, blueeyed, with a lean build—and he appeared to be captivated by Beth. They had several dates, and Beth soon found out that his aspirations matched hers. Her dream of reaching beyond Kentucky soared when she was with Alex.

“A few more years of drudgery like this,” he often said, “and I’ll have enough years of service to be transferred overseas. I want to see the world.”

On her graduation night, when Beth received the scholarship, her excitement was boundless, especially since she had a date with Alex and some other graduates for a gala dinner after the ceremonies. Beth thought she was well on her way toward her coveted goal, until she came face-to-face with Clark Randolph at the close of the graduation exercises.

He approached her, smiling, and because her heart raced at the sight of this man, whom she hadn’t seen since she’d left Harlan County, she was less friendly with him than she might otherwise have been. She was looking toward the future now—she could spare no thoughts on the past. Why did he have to show up now and remind her of what she’d given up?

“Congratulations, Bethie,” he said. “I wanted to see you graduate.”

“But how did you know?”

“Ray Gordon and I are friends. I ask him how you are and what you’re up to.”

Had Ray told Clark that she’d been dating Alex?

“He’s never mentioned your name to me.”

“I figured you didn’t want to hear about me, so I asked him not to say anything.”

Apparently Clark had come straight from the coal mine because he was dressed in jeans that were none too clean, and his brown hair was long and tousled. His hands still had the sheen of coal on them. Looking over Clark’s shoulder, Beth saw Alex heading in her direction. She just couldn’t introduce him to Clark, who reminded her of things she was determined to forget.

“Thanks for coming, Clark. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve made plans for a graduation party.”

Perhaps it wasn’t only her words, but the careless, unfeeling way she had spoken, that made Clark gasp, and left Beth with a memory of the hurt, reproachful look in his brown eyes that had haunted her dreams and waking hours for years afterward. The evening that she had anticipated with so much pleasure turned into a great disappointment, and even now she couldn’t look back on it without inward agony. Coming on the heels of her humiliating treatment of Clark, Alex had told her that he had been assigned to overseas duty, making it obvious that he didn’t intend to make any commitment to her. But the crushing blow of the evening came when she looked more closely at the scholarship she’d been awarded and found that she would be obligated to return to Kentucky after she received her college degree.




Chapter Three (#ulink_d78ba1b2-94b2-5347-bf96-4b7623a2fc78)


Beth was startled when Clark laid his hand on her shoulder. “Beth, are you feeling any better yet?”

With difficulty, she returned to the present and shook her head.

He reached for his cell phone and dialed.

“Stephanie, this is Clark. Please tell Mr. Shriver that Miss Warner and I will not return to the office this afternoon. She will see him tomorrow morning.”

He dialed again. “This is Clark Randolph, Shriver Mining Company. Please make a reservation for the next two nights for Beth Warner, at our expense. She will check in later on this evening.”

After he finished his phone calls, Clark drove for several miles in silence. “Beth,” he said at last, “we must go somewhere and talk. We can go to a restaurant but it won’t be very private. Do you have any objections to going to my apartment?”

“Your apartment will be fine. I’m too upset to be seen in public right now.”

Clark turned the vehicle and started toward Lexington. Beth looked out the window rather than face him. When he entered the parking garage of a high-rise apartment building, she needed no more proof that Clark’s economic situation had improved greatly. She had refused to many him because she wanted someone to take her away from eastern Kentucky, and now here he was, ensconced in a city, and she was going back to Harlan County. Beth could have cried over the ironic twist of fate, but she didn’t have any more tears left. She’d shed them all in his luxury vehicle.

“I live on the eighth floor,” he said. “I like it up there. I can look out over most of the other buildings and pretend I see the mountains, even if I can’t.”

“Then you don’t like living here?” Beth asked in some surprise, as they entered the heavily carpeted building and waited for the elevator.

“It isn’t home.”

Beth hadn’t looked at Clark since she’d first seen him in Shriver’s office, but she sensed that his tender, compassionate eyes watched her intently.

“It’s just a small apartment,” he said, as he opened the door into a combination living room and kitchenette, with a door to the left leading to a bedroom. Clark took her coat and hung it in the closet, then shrugged out of his topcoat.

“I’ll make something to drink. Tea or coffee?”

“Tea with some sugar, please. If I may, I’ll go to the bathroom and rinse my face.”

He pointed toward the bedroom door, turned on the gas burner, and ran water into a teakettle. Beth took her purse and went into the bathroom. Her makeup was streaked, her eyes were red, and her skin felt dry and parched. She drenched a washcloth with hot water and soaked up the warmth from it into her face. With the small amount of makeup she had in her purse, she was able to repair some of the damage from her crying jag.

As she walked through Clark’s bedroom, she stopped abruptly and stared at the picture in a gilded heart-shaped frame on the nightstand beside his bed. It was her ninth-grade picture—the one she had once given him for Christmas. Beth clutched her throat, hardly able to breathe, and a sob escaped her lips. “Oh, Clark,” she whispered.

So Clark was still harboring the unfailing love he’d once declared for her. She had assumed that by now he had found someone else. Dared she admit that she had feared he might have forgotten her? And she certainly wouldn’t have blamed him if he had.

Returning to the kitchen, she found Clark had set two cups and two small plates on the table. Water was boiling, and she smelled scrambled eggs and toast. She didn’t mention the picture.

He held a chair for her, put a tea bag in her cup and poured hot water over it. He placed a slice of toast and a portion of eggs on each plate, then pushed the butter plate to where she could reach it.

“Do you realize that this is the first time we’ve ever eaten a meal together?” he asked.

She lowered her eyes and fiddled with the spoon beside her plate.

“Sorry I can’t do any better with the menu, but I don’t eat here except for breakfast I’m either at a business dinner or bring in takeout.”

Beth could tell that Clark was chatting to give her time to regain her composure, but at last he said, “I’m sorry that meeting me gave you such a jolt. I didn’t realize it would be a complete surprise to you.”

“It wasn’t only that. I’ve been wallowing in sentiment for the past two days, and encountering you was just the last straw. You see, I made the mistake yesterday of going back to Randolph Mountain, and all the memories that I’d kept bottled up for seven years exploded.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather hear about you. The last time I saw you, you were working in the mine. Today, you’re an executive in the company. How did it happen?”

“I thought perhaps you’d heard.”

“Nothing. My grandmother died a tew weeks before I went to Pennsylvania, and I didn’t correspond with anyone in Kentucky while I was away.”

They ate in silence. Beth felt ill at ease in Clark’s presence, and she had never been that way before. It was a strange sensation.

“Let’s take our tea into the living room where we can be more comfortable.” He poured some more hot water into their cups, replaced the tea bags in the liquid, and carried them to a table in front of the couch. She sat on the couch, and he took the chair opposite her.

“Didn’t you know that my mother’s maiden name was Shriver?”

Beth shook her head, wonderingly. The way he had occupied her mind for seven years, it was amazing how little she knew about him and his family.

“She’s Milton Shriver’s sister, but her father disowned her when she married Daddy, who was a poor coal miner. My mother is proud, and she never contacted any of her family—not even after Daddy was hurt and we lived in dire circumstances. Nor was she notified when her parents died.”

Sometimes when Beth heard about the problems of others, she wondered if her childhood had been as difficult as she’d thought.

“Soon after you left for college, I was able to prevent a mine accident that could easily have led to a disaster involving the loss of many lives. The newspapers played up the story, and several of the company officials, including Milton, came down to the mine to thank me.”

The hot tea was soothing and Beth kicked off her shoes, curled her feet beneath her, and listened wonderingly as Clark explained his rise from “rags to riches.”

“After my grandfather died, Milton had become the CEO of the company, and when he realized my identity, he decided that it was time to make some recompense for the wrongs of the past. My parents refused to take anything from him, but he offered to send me to college and continue my salary, so that I could still help my family. It seemed like too good an opportunity to refuse.”

Beth stared at him, her eyes wide in wonder. It sounded like a fairy story, but it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.

“While I was in college, I was an apprentice here at the corporate offices and out in the field, learning more about the mining industry. After two years I started to work full-time for the company, but I still take night classes and will eventually earn an engineering degree.”

“What do you do for the company?”

“They’ve given me the title of ‘technical supervisor,’ but I’m mostly a troubleshooter,” he said, with a grin. “It took a lot of doing to transform me from a miner to an executive, but the company enrolled me in some classes, so I’ve learned how to dress and how to conduct myself in various social situations.”

She smiled at him. “I’m really impressed by your success. I was considering the irony of life a few minutes ago. You were content to stay in the coalfields, and now you’re here in Lexington, living in a plush apartment and headed for the top. And I, who wanted to leave Kentucky forever, am being sent back to Harlan County. That news is what really set me off.”

“I don’t spend all my time in the office,” he told her. “I’m around the coal mines more than I am here. That’s why Milton thought I was the one to show you the new clinic and acquaint you with your work there.”

“He said you would be my supervisor.”

“Not really. I couldn’t supervise a nurse, but I’m your liaison with the company. If you have any trouble, I’m supposed to assist you.”

Beth put her cup on the table and walked to the window, where Clark had said he stood and pretended he was in the mountains. She found she couldn’t imagine anything beyond the rooftops of the buildings around them and the noise of traffic that moved in a steady stream around the apartment complex. The cold air radiating from the windowpane reminded her of her chilly, miserable experience of the day before.

“I drove up Randolph Mountain yesterday, walked out to the summit, looked over my birthplace, and now I wish that I hadn’t. For years I’ve tried to ignore that part of my life, but when I stood on the ridge with the wind sweeping up from the hollow, I started remembering things I hoped I’d forgotten. I’ve been miserable ever since.”

Clark came to her side and put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him gratefully.

“Everything wasn’t so bad, was it? Don’t you have any pleasant memories?”

“No, not really, for my parents seemed to fear any changes in our lives, and I resented it. I know now that it was fear of the complications of ill health, but as a child, I didn’t realize that I was a misfit somehow—I was never satisfied with my life, but I couldn’t seem to do anything about it. When I return to Harlan County, it will seem as if I’m retracing the past.”

“You don’t have to go back. Milton will find some other place for you—he’s a reasonable man. People with your training are in demand in many different institutions.” He paused for a moment, and his hand massaged her shoulders, and the muscles in her neck relaxed. “But, Bethie—” and her heart ached when he used his special name for her “—if you’re ever going to be happy, you’ll have to deal with the past and the hang-ups you have about it. If you do choose to take this job, I’ll be there to help you as much as possible. I’ll see you over the rough spots.”

Wearily she said, “Oh, I’ll go—I don’t think it’s right to refuse or ask for a different assignment. If it hadn’t been for Shriver Mining, I would probably be working for minimum wage in some store or market I could never have gotten anyplace on my own. I owe the corporation two years of my life, but I dread it.”

Clark squeezed her slightly. “Shall we go get your car and check you into the motel, then we can drive someplace for dinner? I know a nice restaurant close to the interstate a few miles to the west.”

“I do feel hungry. My stomach was in knots a few hours ago, but I’m getting over it” She touched his arm as they started to leave the apartment “I want you to know that I’m happy you’ve done so well, Clark. I’m proud of you, and thanks for understanding about what happened today. I don’t know what Mr. Shriver thought of my behavior.”

“Whatever he thought, he won’t question you about it. I’ve learned to have a great deal of respect for him.”

When they parked at the motel, Beth said, “All I need for the night is that small case and the hanging bag that contains my better clothing. All of those other cartons are books and mementos I accumulated while I was away.”

“Nice car,” Clark said, looking over the brown four-door sedan.

“It took almost all of me money I had to make a down payment on it, but I knew I had to have some kind of transportation. I’ve had it only about a week.”

“You’ll be getting an adequate salary now, so you won’t have to worry about finances.”

Clark carried in her luggage, and after Beth registered, he paid for her lodging with a company credit card.

“She may want to stay longer,” he explained to the clerk, “but her plans are indefinite just yet.”

In the room, Beth said, “Give me a few minutes to change my clothes.” She took a dress from her garment bag, and carried the small suitcase to the bathroom. Clark flipped on the television, and when she returned, he was sprawled in the easy chair, engrossed in a football game.

“I always wanted to play football,” he said. “That’s one of the regrets of my past.”

“Do you have many of them?” Beth asked, as she perched on the arm of the couch.

“Not many,” he replied, and his face had a guarded look that didn’t reveal his true thoughts.





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