Too Beautiful to Break Page 5

  During her childhood, her father had been less frail, but never robust. She couldn’t even imagine him attempting this job with his current health. And no wonder he was ailing. If the physical effort didn’t burn someone out, the atmosphere alone would do it. The longer she stayed down there, the harder it was to fill her lungs with anything but sulfur-tinged air.

  When the rumbling started above Sage’s head, her hands almost slipped off the controls, but she managed to turn them off, close her eyes, and listen. A crash sent her heart slamming up against her rib cage. Oh God. What was that? And wasn’t it ridiculous that the relief on her muscles took precedent over her fear of the mine caving in? She attacked them with her thumbs, massaging in circles, and waited for the radio at her hip to crackle with life. The foreman checked on her once an hour to get a progress report, and while she’d lost track of time, she was about due—

  “Alexander.”

  She pressed the Talk button with a wince. “Yes,” she answered. “What was that noise?”

  A dead line of static. “Had a small cave-in up here. We’re working on getting it clear.” Voices in the background. Urgent but not panicked. “Might take a couple hours, so hang tight.”

  Hours.

  Her hysterical laughter bounced off the interior of the cave, which only served to highlight how eerily still and quiet it was. How damp and biting the air became once the machine was at rest. God, it was so dark outside the immediate light. She wouldn’t cry. She would not cry. She’d walked into this mission without blinders on, knowing it was dangerous. The alternative was her father hurting himself or worse, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. No, this two months of hell, followed by a lifetime of caring for her parents, was the price she paid for escaping to California. Allowing Augie to sink his claws in while she slept late in the sunshine. A part of her even believed those five glorious years had been worth it. But that belief was already starting to waver in the stark, black silence of the cave.

  She unzipped her coveralls and dug into the neckline for Belmont’s shirt, which she’d worn like a cloak of armor, the Clarkson Salvage logo directly over her heart. Pressing the fragrant material to her nose, she curled up on the seat of the great metal beast and dreamed of strong arms and ocean waves lapping the shore.

  * * *

  Once Belmont had reached Sibley, it had been easy enough to track down Sage’s house. But he hadn’t liked the reaction he’d gotten when he’d asked for the Alexander residence. Hadn’t liked it one bit. He’d stopped a woman as she came out of the grocery store, a cake propped on her hip. At first, she’d given him that look he’d always found confusing from women. As if he’d done something to please them before he’d even opened his mouth. There was…expectation there. Moreover, he didn’t like the feeling that gratified expression gave him. As if he were being unfaithful to Sage simply by being in the midst of it.

  When Sage looked at him in the same way, though? He loved it. The first time they met at Peggy’s rehearsal dinner, she’d helped him cinch his tie. For just a brief second, she’d laid her hands on his lapels and his heart had gone wild, rebounding off his ribs and spine, lighting up parts of his brain that had always been dim. And when she’d stepped back and smiled the most beautiful, honest smile Belmont had ever seen…he’d simply had no choice but to live for her. To protect her with his every single breath. His heart had made the decision, his mind and body had approved, and her happiness had become a necessity. There was nothing simple about what Sage made him feel. But the importance of her took no effort to describe. And it never wavered. She was the most important.

  So when the woman outside the grocery store appeared to find something distasteful about Sage’s very name, he’d gotten tense. He’d remained that way on the drive over, and now, as he pulled up outside the poor excuse for a home, his eye started to tick. His esophagus burned and his gut joined in. No. He couldn’t have the right address.

  There was trash everywhere, strewn about the dead grass like a parade had passed through. The single tree in the front yard was dead and gnarled, hanging down over the house like a skeleton, waiting to pluck out the residents. Windows were broken, the paint was discolored. It was the farthest thing from worthy of Sage he could have gotten.

  “Dear God, let me be in the wrong place,” he murmured.

  Belmont climbed out of the car and strode up the walkway, cats doing figure eights around his heels, yowling up at him like they hadn’t eaten in a long time. Absently, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the blueberry muffin he’d grabbed at a gas station, the one time he’d stopped out of necessity for fuel. He let it drop from numb fingers to the ground, the cats setting upon it right away…but suddenly he could only picture a hungry Sage and the world flickered around him.

  He knocked on the door, and before it even opened, he wanted to reach up, grip the door frame, and rip the entire place to the ground. Sage wasn’t inside. It was just something he could sense in his bones. A man and woman answered instead. One of the man’s arms was draped across the woman’s shoulders, the other using a crutch for support. There was no question in his mind the woman had given birth to Sage, but the quality of her life had been chiseled into the lines of her face, erasing her daughter’s best qualities. Life, optimism, magic.

  They both reeked of alcohol and a new perspective moved in front of his vision like a pair of reading glasses. Sage never drank anything but juice, coffee, or tea. She never appeared judgmental over his siblings choosing to drown their boredom or kill time by tossing back beer or whiskey; she simply sat by with her hands folded in her lap, smiling with bright, interested eyes as if nothing was wrong.

  Everything about the scene in front of him was wrong.

  “There something you need, son?”

  Pride hit him at being called son, so fast, before he could stop it. No man had ever called him that. He pushed aside the unwanted feeling with determination. “Where is Sage?”

  The two exchanged a glance, both of them listing to the right a touch. “Haven’t seen you around here before,” the mother said. “Do you mind telling us who you are? How do you know our little girl?”

  That description stung him like a mosquito, because Sage was a woman. He’d tasted her and held her, so he knew. He started to give his name, but broke off when he looked over their shoulders into the house. Red fireworks bloomed in his vision at the complete disaster of it, denial thickening his voice. “My name is Belmont. I’m your daughter’s…” Sweat began to bead on his brow under their close attention. “I’m your daughter’s.”

  A long silence passed.

  “Oh, I see,” said the woman softly, pressing a hand to her chest. “Well, I’m Bernadette—Bernie for short—and this here is Thomas.”

  Belmont managed a nod. “Was she here? Is she all right?”

  “Yes,” Thomas said, speaking up for the first time. Out of nowhere, misery twisted the man’s expression, his body going slack against Bernadette. “No. She’s not really all right.”

  The porch seemed to buckle under Belmont’s legs so fast, he had to grab the doorjamb for support, but the wood broke off into his hand, leaving him nothing. All he could do was stare at the splintered remains jabbing into the center of his palm.

  He looked up in astonishment as the woman comforted her husband, crooning to him in his ear as the couple swayed back and forth. Somewhere their daughter was not really all right, and they were too wrapped up in each other and their haze of drunkenness to care.

  Not really all right. Not really all right.

  Belmont stepped into the house, his eyes tearing up at the smell, at the total denial that Sage had ever walked through this door at all. “It’s going to be fine. I’m here now.” He waited for their full attention. “I will make her all right. In this life, I don’t want anything more than to do that. Do you understand?”

  He held on to his patience as Bernadette started to cry, followed by more mutual comfort between the two of them. And then he r
emembered what Sage had told him in the car, right before they’d reached the train station.

  It’s too much, the way you rely on me. My father…he does the same thing to my mother. And vice versa. Depending on one another for support until they have no energy left to worry about themselves. Or desire to accomplish anything. There’s no encouragement, only excuses for what is.

  On the heels of that memory came visions of himself crushing Sage in his arms, yanking her down into his lap, cornering her, and demanding to know why she didn’t feel well. How many times had he invaded her personal space, commandeering it for himself? Had she ever consented? No, no, she hadn’t. He’d taken her arms around his neck as a sign of approval, when it was just her nature to be kind. He’d forced her to be his…crutch.

  “She’s down at the mine working,” Thomas said, the words muffled by his wife’s shoulder. “I couldn’t handle the machinery anymore, so she took my place down deep in the belly. I’ve caused her nothing but problems, my poor daughter, but I couldn’t do it another day. I couldn’t.”

  Bernadette grabbed Thomas’s head, pushing his face into her chest. “Of course you couldn’t. No one blames you. No one.”

  Belmont turned and dry heaved over the porch, the lack of contents in his stomach the only saving grace in that moment. That didn’t stop his body from trying to expel anything it could find, worry raking up his gut and twisting. He tried to brace his hands on his knees, but they slipped right off, sending him pitching forward.

  His Sage was down in the darkness of the earth somewhere. There was no way to wrap his mind around the implications or reasons behind that fact. Not yet. Just then, there was nothing but cloying claustrophobia and total denial. They clashed together, battling for ground. Because he’d thought the idea of a closed space down in the ground was his worst nightmare, but having Sage down there was far, far worse.

  “Where?” Belmont shouted.

  Chapter Six

  Waiting at the mine entrance for the final barrier to be bulldozed away, Sage zipped her jumpsuit back up and straightened her spine. Deep breaths. Don’t let them see your anxiety.

  Her coworkers had been visibly horrified yesterday when she’d shown up to train. Some of them had even offered to trade jobs with her, explaining they had daughters the same age and wouldn’t want them within fifty feet of the mine. But she’d declined, knowing full well Augie would never allow it. Those requests would have been denied with great pleasure and she couldn’t—wouldn’t—give him that.

  Nor would she walk out of the darkness with tearstained cheeks and fear in her eyes. Lord knew it was there. Three hours spent trapped, fresh oxygen in short supply, had Sage wishing she’d devoted more time to praying. All those hours logged inside churches and she was usually focused on the seating arrangements. It all seemed so silly when her life could be in the balance if another collapse happened. Or the air ran out.

  Yet those fairy tales she’d created had kept her strong in the darkness, her tears soaking Belmont’s shirt. For a few hours, she’d stopped judging herself for escaping Sibley and let herself remember the joy of breaking free. Happiness was attainable through hard work. Mining was harder work, but it didn’t diminish the joy of giving someone a happily ever after. She would sustain herself on the memories of those weddings for a long time to come.

  The radio at her hip crackled. “Have you out in five minutes, Alexander.”

  She took a deep inhale and pressed the Talk button. “Okay. Take your time.”

  The casual rejoinder emerged without a thought, as if she’d just agreed to meet Peggy at the beach. Peggy. Sage closed her eyes and thought of her best friend. Would she marry Elliott the football coach someday? In some alternate universe, would they call her to plan the wedding?

  Pretending she would have that freedom, Sage began to wiggle her fingers, the way she did when ideas started to percolate. Peggy would wear light pink, some kind of sparkly embellishment at her hip. Maybe a nineteen-forties film star hairstyle with a tasteful feather curved behind her ear. Her best friend would want it simple this time, unlike the prior four failed attempts to walk down the aisle. Small and tasteful out of consideration for her fiancé, who wouldn’t be into a huge ceremony and reception.

  But small didn’t mean they couldn’t have flash. That was Peggy’s style. Fuchsia and clean, crisp white. Calla lilies. Everywhere. Candle centerpieces, set on top of mirrors so the soft light would be reflected around the space. A jazz band, but an edgy one. Trombones and piano and soft vocals. They would need to incorporate Elliott into the aesthetic, too. Maybe she could tap some of his football player guests to do a choreographed dance. The napkin rings could be little gold crowns to recognize Elliott’s nickname, the Kingmaker.

  They could—

  Daylight.

  Sage’s hands flew up to banish the brightness, her eyelids fluttering in an attempt to adjust. And she breathed. Heavily, deeply, sucking in greedy lungfuls of the piercing cold, winter air that snaked in through the mine’s mouth. As soon as she could feel her blood pumping again with the new dose of oxygen, Sage squared her shoulders and slipped through the slight opening they’d created on the left side. It was just big enough for her to climb out, although it was clear the bulldozer would be working steadily into the night to remove the remaining debris. Someone slapped an oxygen mask over her face and told her to breathe.

  She gave a thumbs-up, doing as she was told, and squinted into the late afternoon light. Silhouettes of men in hard hats were all she could make out at first, but the concerned faces of her fellow miners eventually came into focus. They patted her awkwardly on the shoulders, muttering words she didn’t allow to penetrate. You shouldn’t be down there. He’s gone too far.

  A car door slammed.

  And then…silence.

  There was no other way to describe the ten-thousand-pound hush that fell over the men. Her eyesight was still adjusting, so she tried to put a hand up to block the sunlight. Her arm wouldn’t lift, though, the relief having stolen her adrenaline and left her muscles knotted, stiff. Ducking into one of the men’s shadows, she traced the crew’s attention until she landed on the Suburban.

  Belmont.

  “No. Oh, no.” The words scraped out of her mouth, scooping her heart up, up along with them, leaving the organ lodged in her neck. Joy tried to blanket everything. Pure, blinding joy. Tiny humming sounds started in her ears, her nerve endings stretching in his direction. Mine, mine, mine. Her feet wanted to move, the legs she’d thought depleted of energy wanted to spring into action, launching herself into Belmont’s arms. Everything would click and be right and good and clean if he was holding her. He’d tell her she was too good for the mine, this town, and she would believe him.

  It wouldn’t be true, though. The security he provided wouldn’t be permanent, either. For one, her secret was out. The battle to protect him had just gotten real, maybe impossible. And two? It was imperative she remember her other reason for splitting with Belmont. After getting a refresher of her parents’ relationship, there would be no ignoring the similarities to the one she’d been cultivating with Belmont. If she gave in and clung to him now, in a weak moment, she could very well drown in him.

  Sage still wasn’t positive Belmont wasn’t a mirage. He was dusted in dancing, refracted light. Something out of a happy summer flashback, the kind she’d seen in movies. But this wasn’t a happy moment, was it? No, that euphoria clamoring and clanging like cymbals beneath her skin wasn’t allowed.

  He’s here. He’s here. I can collapse now.

  No. You can’t. That would be too easy.

  If she’d been split down the middle by an ax, she couldn’t have been more firmly divided. His arms around her would be life changing at that moment. She’d been so scared in the dark and he would understand. Of anyone on the planet, he would understand. And she’d missed him so much. His total conviction of what was right and wrong. His dependability and the way he stuck to a decision, no matter what it cos
t him.

  And Sage couldn’t allow coming after her to cost him.

  Had she known he would come? Somewhere deep down, the possibility had never stopped singing, but she’d ignored it. Because acknowledging the chance would have meant she couldn’t remain in denial about needing him. By her side. Steady and constant.

  A cloud moved in front of the sun, allowing Sage her first glimpse of his incredible face. Oh Lord. An invisible fist punched her square in the stomach. Belmont was a complex man, but she’d never seen him carrying this…amalgamation of rage and denial. Winter wind whipped around him, throwing his thick hair out in eighty directions, slapping his coat against his legs. So silent and full of motion at once.

  It wasn’t only Sage that he captivated, either. After only two days of work, she knew the men around her never stopped talking. Ribbing each other, speculating on the weather, trading crawfish recipes. But you could have heard a pin drop in the quiet as Belmont started moving toward her. Her belly and thigh muscles contracted with each of his footfalls, the memory of his kiss and the hard, male body rushing to the surface, flushing her cheeks.

  Resisting the pull of his comfort would be the hardest test of her life. Harder than breaking free of this town or working in the mine. But she wouldn’t allow herself to swirl down into the eddy, right into a codependent relationship. She wouldn’t. They’d already come so close after mere weeks of traveling together and she knew from watching her parents, the pull only grew more intense over time. Swallowed people whole. Blocked out the world.

  She loved the world. Maybe she’d only discovered it a handful of years ago, but she adored so many of the things it had to offer. Belmont was one of them. But she couldn’t allow them to abuse each other’s comfort anymore.

  And there was something more important she couldn’t allow. She could not let him step foot in that mine on her behalf. The very possibility was what had given her the strength to leave him in the first place, and moving backward would not only be unacceptable, it would be torture for both of them. Different kinds, but agonizing nonetheless. This was her debt to pay.