Chapter 5 Padraig ’Paddy’ Fitzgerald
“I will not presume to know how you did things back home, spud-muncher, but you are in America now, and this is how it is done.”
I swallow down my retort, inhaling so hard my nostrils flare. “I did not know America was known for cutting corners. Do we have an abundance of available miners that you feel comfortable playing fast and loose with their safety?”
“Safety?” My manager chuckles like an eejit, the sound grating on my already thin nerves.
“Miners are like coal, Paddy, easy to dig up.” I stare blankly at him, his horrific pun a crime against humanity.
Not to mention this man has not spent a single second inside any of the mines, he wouldn’t know how to find coal if it jumped up and bit him in the sceidin, as small as it probably is.
“Your job is to ensure we meet quota, not question the decisions of men far more intelligent and richer than either of us.”
Story of my life.
“Understood,” I grit out, turn sharply on my heels and leave his cramped office.
My mind works through available supplies and depleted shafts as I walk across the company grounds.
If I remove the supports from the sections we’ve finished, I might be able to buy us a little more time.
Problem is the more stopes we create, the more the structural integrity of the shafts degrade.
Collapses occur frequently, and despite company “policy”, I consider the lives of the men under my supervision just as important as any quota. They have families that depend on them.
Even Darragh Byrne. God help me, I detest his very existence, but I am not sure I could overlook safety hazards that could take his life and look at myself in the mirror every day. If I could look Trinli in the eye again.
How can such a slovenly creature be married to such an angel?
These last months have been beautiful agony; living under the same roof as Trinli, watching the boys grow like weeds, learning the differences in her eyes and smiles depending on her mood.
I have known a number of women in my day, most of which are my relation, who possess a continence and strength most men can never hope to achieve.
I dare say Trinli rivals my mam, my esteem and respect grow for her daily.
I listen to him berate her, use her violently, taking from her everything she is unwilling to give and then dismiss her as if she means nothing.
As if she is not the binding that holds this patch together.
My manager could learn a thing or two from her on how to lead.
Fostering relationships and encouraging purpose.
The other women and children look to her for guidance.
She is a mother and a wife, devoted to her boys, but she is also a seamstress, cook, physician, child-minder, and gardener.
And on top of all that, she is educated, well-read, insightful and quite witty.
Of course, she is bonnie. Everything about her, eyes, pert little nose, bountiful breasts, and feminine waist call to me. Beckons me ever closer to sin with the sound of her laughter or sweet smile aimed my way.
Darragh struck her the other day, she had cooked too many vegetables and not enough meat.
It was a ridiculous accusation as there was clearly plenty of food to eat, including the meat.
But he saw…I am ashamed to admit that I believe he concocted a reason to hurt her because of my careless admiration.
It is quite trying to be in her presence and not be in awe of her.
It took great effort to simply raise my voice and not my hand.
I bit my tongue then as I did just now, because if I cause too much trouble, if I am fired, I lose her. I lose Jakob, Riordan, and Gabriel.
That is most assuredly a loss from which I could never recover. So, I bite my tongue, I still my hands, and I temper my anger. For her. As I said, she encourages purpose, and my purpose is Trinli.