LITMIR.BIZ

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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.

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