LITMIR.BIZ

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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

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