A Message for Julia

His voice whispered in her head

Julia repeated his name, praying that somehow that could make Linc materialize there before her. For the first time in weeks she closed her eyes and pictured his face. Not the face that had been lined with anger and red with rage as he argued with her. Not the face of the man who silently drank his coffee each morning before work and barely spoke to her. Not the face of the man who’d stridden from the house the other night.

She saw the boy she’d fallen in love with back in high school. The boy she’d stayed up late with cramming for finals in college. The man whose face shone in completion as he made love to her.

Dear Reader,

Whenever a catastrophe strikes, the media are quick to descend, and we often see events as they happen. During the Sago Mine disaster in 2006, one picture of a woman crumbling into tears touched my heart. I wanted to put my arms around her and comfort her. She stayed with me over the next few days and I wondered about her, about her story.

She developed into Julia. I could see that Julia cared deeply—it was etched into the pain on her face in that picture. Linc soon appeared, and I knew their story was powerful. From there the words and images came—of a tough breed of people who go to work each day and risk their lives. And while I can’t understand how they can bear to let their loved ones go, I know many families do just that each and every day. Julia and Linc travel a rough road and have to—literally—try to move a mountain in healing their love. I hope you enjoy reading their story as much as I have appreciated writing it.

I love to hear from readers. Please feel free to contact me at [e-mail] or at P.O. Box 63202, Colorado Springs, CO 80962-3202. Follow me on Facebook or Twitter, as well.

Happy reading!

Angel Smits

A Message for Julia

Angel Smits

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Angel Smits’s background as a geriatric social worker has given her a glimpse into many varied lives and generations. She often finds her characters and stories in the people she’s met. A people watcher, she is frequently at the mall or nearby bookstore simply observing all the craziness—especially during Christmas, where there’s so much to see. Angel has received Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award and has previously published two paranormal romances and several nonfiction articles. A Message for Julia is her first book for Harlequin Superromance. Angel lives in Colorado with her husband and soon-to-be-moving-out son and daughter. The cat and dog plan to stay.

For all the men who go to work each day and face the danger, and the women who kiss them goodbye and let them go.

Pat, you would have loved this one.

The mimosas are on me.

And Ron. Simply—thank you!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

Thursday Afternoon, 3:00 p.m.

NORMALLY THE SMELL OF CHALK dust comforted Julia Holmes, but not today. Maybe never again.

Shaking her head, she turned back to the blackboard and finished erasing the scrawled lessons, wishing she could erase the day’s events just as easily.

The letter of reprimand from the school board lay on her desk, as disturbing to her peace of mind as the empty seat in the second row.

She’d only been trying to help.

Ryan Sinclair, one of her students, had dropped out of school last week to take a job at the mine. She’d tried to talk some sense into him. He was bright and talented with too much potential to be stuck working in a coal mine the rest of his life. The school board hadn’t appreciated her “meddling” as they called it, and the letter on her desk told her so quite clearly.

Her presence was requested at tomorrow night’s school-board meeting. She swallowed the lump of apprehension that threatened to choke her.

A cough in the doorway pulled her out of her thoughts. Julia turned to see Missy Watson standing there. The girl had been quiet in class today, and Julia was surprised to see tears in her eyes now. “Missy? Are you okay?” She stepped around to the front of the desk.

A sob ripped from Missy’s throat. Dropping the eraser, Julia hurried to her. Tears cut pale tracks in her too-heavy makeup.

“What’s the matter?” Julia spoke softly, carefully, laying a hand on her student’s arm.

“It’s…it’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“The whole mess you’re in. With Ryan.”

Understanding dawned. Julia gently squeezed the arm she held. “It’s okay, Missy.” Obviously talk had gotten around about the reprimand she’d received. Or, at the very least, the tongue-lashing the principal had given her. She’d known last week that news of Ryan’s father’s blowup had been all over the school.

All because she’d cared.

“No, it’s not.” Missy dissolved into tears again. “I didn’t really want him to leave. But…but…”

Julia’s heart ached for the girl. She remembered all too clearly being seventeen and feeling as if the world rested on your every decision.

Despite the warnings against touching students, Julia slipped her arms around Missy’s slim shoulders.

“I teased him.” Missy’s voice wobbled. “He asked me to the prom and I said no.” The last word was more a wail than anything.

“Oh, I’m sure he recovered from that.” Teenagers and dating. It was a minefield, and while Julia wanted to help Missy, she knew better than to venture in too far. Besides, she wasn’t exactly qualified to give advice about love. She hastily put thoughts of her own marriage out of her mind.

“No. I…I told him I didn’t want to date boys. I wanted to go out with a man. But that’s not true. I really like him.”

“Oh, dear.” Julia could imagine the slap in the face those words had been.

“It’s not your fault he left school. It’s mine.” She sobbed into Julia’s collar. “And now you’re in trouble and might lose your job.”

Missy’s guilt seemed all too powerful right then. Julia knew she needed to ease the girl’s tears, though she hoped Missy had learned something from this. Maybe she’d think twice before spouting off hurtful remarks in the future. “I’m not going to lose my job.” Julia wasn’t sure who needed to believe it more, her or Missy.

“You’re not?” Missy pulled back and looked up. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re the best teacher. I’m doing lousy in all my other classes.”

She wasn’t doing that well in this one, either, but Julia left that unsaid. Missy hastily wiped her face. Smudges of black mascara ringed her damp blue eyes.

“To be honest, Missy, I’d do it again.” And she would. “Sometimes you have to fight for the things you care about.”

Missy seemed to consider that. “So, you think I should fight for Ryan?”

“Well…” Julia wasn’t getting sucked in again. She’d already done enough damage by trying to give a kid advice. “That’s up to you. Just think about it.”

“I will. Thanks, Mrs. Holmes. You’re the best.”

Before Julia could say anything more, Missy headed to the door and probably straight to the restroom to fix her makeup. Ah, the resilience of youth.

Julia returned to her desk and sank into her chair, wishing she were as resilient as Missy. She stared at the letter, not really seeing it, not needing to read the words. Despite what she’d told Missy, she could lose her job.

She looked out the window of her classroom. From the third floor, she could see most of Parilton, Pennsylvania, with its clapboard houses and tree-lined streets. The dark silhouette of the Winding Trail Mine sat at the edge of town, mother hen and vulture all in one. Just as it overshadowed the town, it touched every life in Parilton, including hers.

Her husband, Linc, was working up there today, as he’d been, on and off, for several weeks. New equipment going in meant inspection after inspection, all his responsibility. It was another in a long list of things that kept him away from home.

She’d hardly seen him in weeks, it seemed. She missed him, and that knowledge bothered her more than she wanted it to. What was worse was the realization that she had to talk to Linc about the letter. About the whole mess.

She’d finally have to tell him about the job change she’d made last month. She’d meant to tell him about it earlier but had never quite found the right moment. She knew she should have tried harder—waited up when he came in late, woken him before she left in the morning, or found a way to meet for lunch.

But she hadn’t quite figured out what to say, or how to explain it to him. She didn’t even understand it herself. And since they barely spoke these days anyway, keeping silent was just easier.

Until today, she’d thought it was the right decision.

Friday Morning, 5:30 a.m.

THE ALARM CLATTERED at oh-dark-thirty. Julia rolled over and smacked the off button, hoping she’d permanently disabled the thing. She opened one eyelid then slammed it shut again

She did not want to face today.

Linc’s even breathing broke the quiet of the room, and she turned to look at him in the dim morning light. She’d tried to stay awake last night to talk to him, but the long hours and stress had taken their toll. Either she had become so used to Linc coming in late, or he was getting better at being quiet.

Maybe she’d wait until tomorrow, when they were both home and not working, to tell him. After she knew the results of tonight’s meeting. No, that would only make matters worse.

“Hey,” she said softly and waited. No answer. She said it again, louder.

“You say something?” he mumbled.

“Yeah. Are you awake?” She waited for him to wake enough to understand what she was saying. He didn’t stir and she knew she’d lost the battle. Rather than try again, Julia climbed out of bed, throwing the covers aside and silently hoping the cool air would startle him awake.

For a long moment, Julia stared down at the mussed bed and grieved the loss of the days when she’d wake him early for an entirely different purpose. With a sigh, she abandoned those thoughts and headed downstairs to make breakfast. She needed something to do to keep her mind and hands busy.

She threw on her robe, letting it hang open, the belt trailing behind. What was the point of looking presentable when she was alone with no one to appreciate her? She shook her head; she needed coffee to chase away the pity party in her mind.

Bitter caffeine, tempered by sugar and cream, caressed her tongue. She stood at the kitchen window and gazed over the rim of her coffee cup at the house across the street. The neighbors were a young couple. All their windows were still dark. Were they asleep? Or had morning come for them as well and their bed was still cozy and inviting? She closed her eyes…wishing.

Wishing for what?

For those early days of her marriage before every moment was a struggle? The days before they’d started talking about a family?

She heard the footstep an instant before warm, strong arms stole around her waist.

“You were saying something?” Linc’s voice was thick with sleep, but she sighed in relief. He’d heard her. On some level he’d been listening.

“Yeah.”

He waited. She took a deep breath.

“I…I quit my job at the elementary school,” she finally whispered.

Linc went absolutely still against her. Julia wasn’t even sure she felt him breathing.

“What? Why?” He came around to face her. She missed the warmth he’d provided. She looked up at him. He frowned and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. She couldn’t help but drink in the view of the lightly tanned plains and valleys sprinkled with dark hair. The jeans he’d hastily thrown on hung low on his hips.

But the warmth that had been in his body didn’t show on his face. She shivered and looked down at her coffee. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Can’t do what? Teach?”

“No. Not teach. I have another job. I can’t be around the little ones.” Her voice broke on the last words.

“Another job? Where?”

Now she knew she had to look at him. “I’ve been teaching at the high school for the past month. I’m subbing for an English teacher who’s out on maternity leave.”

His frown deepened and a flush swept up his face. “A month?” He moved away from the counter and paced away from her. “When were you going to tell me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t intend not to tell you. I just didn’t know how to bring it up. You’re so busy—”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I know that.”

The stiff way he held himself told her she’d hit a nerve. They’d never kept secrets before—before last fall when the whole world had fallen apart.

“There’s more,” Julia said softly, staring out the window instead of at Linc’s bare chest. She wished he owned a robe. Maybe she’d get him one for Christmas. Why was she thinking about that now? She knew she was avoiding this, avoiding talking to him. She didn’t want to discuss the hurt that had never gone away.

“Oh, this should be good.”

His sarcasm irritated her. He’d been sarcastic a lot lately. “Stop it.” She stepped farther away from him. “I don’t want to argue again. I know I should have told you sooner and I’m sorry about that, but what’s done is done,” she said, throwing his favorite phrase back at him. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll have this job.” Her voice broke, but she refused to give in to her emotions. Not now.

“What does that mean?” At least the sarcasm was gone.

She swallowed hard. “Yesterday I…I received a letter of reprimand from the school board. They…they are reviewing my contract at tonight’s meeting.” This time there was no hiding the hurt in her voice. She didn’t want his pity. She just wanted him to listen for a change.

“Why?” He drew the word out.

“I tried to convince one of the boys not to quit school to work in the mine. He was only a few months away from graduating.” Her voice was soft. “His father went to the school board—but not before reaming me out, of course.”

“Oh, great. Are you crazy? That mine is the lifeblood of this town. Every person here depends on it.” Linc ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the coffeemaker. He poured himself a cup and took his time taking that first sip.

“I know that.”

He closed his eyes as if to savor his coffee, or to ignore her. “So you’re trying to go up against the mine management. It was Ryan Sinclair, wasn’t it?”

“You heard about it?”

“Half the town heard Jack Sinclair running off at the mouth. I didn’t know he was talking about you. Ryan’s working up at the mine now. I gather your little talk didn’t convince him.”

“No.” She winced. She’d always found it hard to admit her failures.

The kitchen fell silent, heavy with unsaid words as they both nursed cooling cups of coffee.

WHO WAS THIS WOMAN standing in his kitchen? Linc couldn’t help but stare at Julia.

She’d been edgy lately and he’d known something was wrong. But he’d learned years ago not to push her. Right now she looked a mess—a just-waking-up-in-the-morning mess—but still a mess. Her hair was mussed and her robe hung open to show the shorts and T-shirt she’d slept in. He let his gaze linger on her curves…wishing…

When the hell had they grown so far apart that he couldn’t even touch his wife when he wanted to?

Like now.

“You could—” She stepped toward him. “Could you put something about how it’s not safe for kids to work in the mines in your report?”

He stared at her, incredulous. “No.”

“Why not?”

His anger surprised him. She’d always had her causes and another thing he’d learned was to take cover when she started talking about one of them. Why couldn’t they have a conversation anymore without one of them getting angry? He forced himself to focus, to tamp down his reaction. “For one, I’m not willing to risk my career for someone else’s problem. And this isn’t your business. One of us has to keep working and feed us.”

“And two?” she bit out.

“I don’t agree with you. Ryan is old enough to make his own decisions.

“He’s only seventeen.”

“When I was seventeen, I was on my own. At least he has parents to turn to, which he did.”

“They don’t understand—”

“No, Julia. You don’t understand. Ever since…since…last fall…” His voice wavered, but he quickly caught himself. “You want to fix everyone else’s life. Take care of every lost soul that crosses your path.” He stepped closer to her, lowering his voice, hoping to ease the tension between them. “Maybe you should focus on your own problems and your own life for a change.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Whoever told you life was fair? It sure as hell wasn’t me.”

He closed his eyes for an instant trying to clear his mind. His life had never been even close to fair. But what bothered him most was the fact she’d kept all of this—her new job and this crisis—a secret from him. They’d never had secrets.

When he’d first heard Jack, he realized now, some part of his brain had thought it sounded like Julia. But he’d dismissed it because he’d thought she was still teaching at the elementary school. Now he wasn’t as shocked as he should be. “Julia, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” She actually sounded surprised.

“This. It’s not your battle.”

“I disagree.” She stomped across the kitchen and stared out the back window.

The distance between them was too great. He had to find a way across it. “Tell me why you left the elementary school.” He did not want to start this conversation, but it now seemed inevitable.

“I couldn’t do it. Because…it…it just wasn’t for me.” She fidgeted with the belt of her robe.

Linc hated seeing the forlorn look on her face. He ached to pick her up, carry her away and fix it all. He also knew she’d resist that and probably deck him in the process. “I can be there tonight.”

She looked up, and he thought she was going to smile. He held his breath, waiting. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly smiled.

“But I’m not promising anything else.” He couldn’t do more than that.

She nodded and turned away again.

Linc went back upstairs, back to bed for a couple hours. He wished she’d join him, but he knew better. She’d have to call in sick to work and she took her commitments seriously—too seriously sometimes.

The sheets were too damned cold.

CHAPTER TWO

Friday Evening, 7:00 p.m.

THE CAFETERIA WAS FULL, but not so full that it was intimidating. Julia looked around. She knew most of these people, some by name but more by face.

The six-member school board sat up front at a couple of the lunch tables that had been turned sideways. The twenty or so other people sat at tables where her students usually hung out laughing and eating lunch. It was a small town. A relatively small school. Nothing fancy.

A few more people filed in and Julia leaned forward. Where was he? Her heart sank. She didn’t want to think that Linc had broken his promise, but he did have a habit of getting caught up in work at times and forgetting things—like dinner.

The board had reviewed the budget, rehashed the booth at the county fair and had just started to go over the upcoming end-of-year graduation activities when the door creaked open.

Julia fought her smile. She’d always prided herself on being independent. She didn’t want people to think she was one of those women who couldn’t survive without a man. But knowing that Linc had come to support her made something inside her shift, something warm. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do this alone anymore. He wound his way into the room and took the seat beside her.

After another ten minutes, the meeting seemed to be winding down. Julia fought not to get her hopes up. Maybe they’d forget about her contract.

“One final item,” a woman at the end of the table said. Julia craned her neck to see. She recognized her. She knew Shirley Wise from various events as well as from when she’d interviewed for the job at the high school.

“Is Julia Holmes here?” Shirley looked directly at her.

“I’m here.” Julia remained seated and Linc nudged her with his elbow.

“Stand up,” he muttered.

Julia frowned at him, but stood rather than have anyone around them hear her argue.

“We’ve reviewed your contract and the letter of reprimand.” Shirley looked over her half glasses at Julia. “Both will stand, barring any further incidents. Thank you, everyone—”

That was it? She wasn’t going to get the chance to speak? People around her looked confused and disapproving. Many probably already knew what had happened, others were totally clueless and were thinking the worst of her. Julia wanted to have her chance to defend herself and her actions.

“Julia, shhh,” Linc said softly. He knew her too well, but he should also know she wasn’t going to back down.

“I’d like to have my say.”

“It won’t make a difference.”

Shocked, she turned to stare down at him. What did he mean it wouldn’t make a difference? To him? To the school board? To her?

Before she could recover and respond to Shirley, the crowd stood and the board members were heading to the door. Her heart sank and her anger rose. She glared at Linc, knowing disappointment fueled her ire.

She was a good teacher, she knew that. She’d worked so hard for and at this job. She loved her students. She stared at Linc. He didn’t meet her gaze. He was chatting with the woman beside him, making casual conversation about the weather. Totally unaware that his actions were what hurt the most.

Suddenly, she realized he no longer believed in her.

LINC KNEW HE WAS in serious trouble, knew from a lifetime of experience and seven years of living with Julia that he was in deep. What he didn’t know was how to fix it. The helplessness he felt had become familiar over the past several months. He knew he should face it head-on, but instead, he let the woman beside him go on and on about the dry spell they were having. He couldn’t have cared less about the weather.

The crowd thinned, and he waited for Julia to head to the door. He turned to look at her and immediately regretted the impulse. She was ticked, all right.

But even worse was the pain he saw lurking behind the anger in her eyes. His heart sank. Maybe there was no fixing any of this.

They drove home separately. He followed her SUV in his truck. Her taillights burned red as they drove through town where few streetlights had come on. In the distance, the glow of the mine created a halo on the horizon. His mind wandered to the work he had to get done up there tomorrow.

He suddenly felt very tired.

Linc pulled in beside her in the garage. Even before he’d opened his door, she was out of her car and the force of her door slamming shook the entire vehicle. She stomped up the two steps to the house and slammed that door, too.

Linc just sat there staring at the closed door. He briefly wondered if she’d locked him out. He cursed. He did not want to go into that house. If he did, what would he say? What would she say?