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“Bill. Thank you.”
Bill nodded. “Least I could do. Got some sins to work off.”
Memphis and Theta were kissing again, blind to everything around them.
“Come on,” Memphis said.
Memphis broke into the lighthouse, and he and Theta lay on the blanket they’d kept there for months. Theta had never tasted a kiss so sweet as the ones she shared now with Memphis. Suddenly, she pulled away. “What if I hurt you?”
Memphis grinned. “It’s a nice way to go.”
“I’m serious, Poet.”
“You won’t. I don’t think you can.” He held up his hands. “Healer.”
Memphis kissed Theta, and she kissed him back. His hands pressed against her back just where she wanted them. And the only warmth she felt was the pull of her desire for him. They lay on the floor of the lighthouse. The lighthouse’s shining orb gentled its beam across the sleeping river. As Memphis moved on top of her, Theta kept her eyes on his beautiful face, lost in shadow, then bathed in light, his joy so bright to see. She felt a new fire this time, one that raced through her body with pleasure.
She rested her spine against the soft skin of Memphis’s chest. He draped an arm across her, and the two of them lay pressed together like spoons in a cozy drawer.
“Roy will come for us, you know. He won’t stop,” Theta said quietly.
Memphis kissed the tender spot beneath her ear. “We’ll fight back.”
And Theta let herself be lulled by the idea that maybe, just maybe, they could win.
THE SECRET SIX
In the back of a borrowed dairy truck, Mabel shivered under a blanket and stared up at the moon. It was fat and beautiful, but that didn’t help them much tonight, when the Secret Six needed to stay hidden. Arthur cut the truck’s headlights and parked near the river. The Secret Six scrambled out and gathered behind the shelter of an eastern hemlock. In the distance, Mabel could see the miners’ tents like a dotting of flowers in the field. Arthur climbed up the tree to scout with his binoculars.
“The militiamen are off getting drunk on cheap moonshine just like the miners said they usually do about this time of night.” He climbed back down and brushed the needles from his peacoat. “We have to act before they get back. There are only two guards right now, both positioned by the front gate. Gloria, you’ll draw them out to the field so we can sneak in.”
“Got it,” Gloria said, rolling her stockings down below her knees like a true flapper.
“Once you do, Mabel and I will set the bomb at the mine while Luis and Aron set the explosives by the company store. That explosion should draw their attention and give us cover to run straight back to the truck,” Arthur said, handing everyone gray fishermen’s sweaters and wool caps to help them blend into the night. Behind the tree was an old Dodge they’d hidden the day before. Arthur lifted the hood and tampered with some wires. “That oughta do the trick,” he said, closing the hood and wiping his hands. “You ready, Gloria?”
“And how,” she said, sliding into the driver’s side. The men pushed the car out of the trees and onto the slope of the road. The engine chugged to life, sounding like a sick cow. Gloria stuck her hand out the window in a quick little wave.
“Let’s go,” Arthur said, leading the others the long way around, away from the tent city where the patrolling guards were. The sudden bark of a dog made Mabel jump.
“You jake?” Arthur whispered.
Mabel tried to make sense of all the feelings whirring inside her. One part of her was terrified. The other part felt electric, ready to burn. They were going to blow up the mine. She was breaking the law. That was wrong. But so was Jake Marlowe’s treatment of his workers. Those militiamen shooting up the camp and frightening the miners, that was wrong, and nobody was doing anything about it. So maybe what they were doing was right? It was all topsy-turvy.
“Mabel?” Arthur placed a hand gently on her arm.
Mabel looked out at the campfires of the tent city, and she reminded herself that this was what they were fighting for.
“I’m jake,” she said, and hunkered down behind a tall rise of dirt to keep watch through her binoculars. Gloria drove the hobbled car through the field in an erratic line, making a terrible racket.
The guards jumped to their feet and hoisted their guns. “Hey, now! This is private property!”
Mabel held her breath. If Gloria didn’t pull off this part, they were done for. The guards might even shoot her. The car shuddered to a stop and Gloria stepped out, wringing her hands. Her voice drifted across the field: “Oh, can you help me, please? I don’t know what’s the matter with this thing! Papa will be so unhappy with me if I?
?ve ruined another auto!”
“Oh, please, please,” Mabel whispered. Her heart hammered away.
The guards exchanged looks and put down their rifles. “Well, let’s see what the trouble is, little lady,” one said, and opened the hood.
