Page 11 of The Heart of Bennet Hollow

Lizbeth glimpsed Mr. Drake’s stony face.

If he were the owner of the mine one day, this would be cause for trouble.

Gleaning coal from the banks was illegal in most mining towns, and while Mr. Jorgensen turned a blind eye about the castoffs being taken home, this man might not be as generous.

Nor any of the other coal barons who’d come here to strike a fortune on Mr. Jorgensen’s urge to retire.

“Oh, we—we don’t mind,” Jayne stammered.

Lizbeth forced her voice to stay bright. “Not at all. The walk does us good.”

Mr. Brydolf surveyed the way they’d come, to where they were going, then skyward where clouds darkened. “About how far do you have left to go?”

“A mile,” Mr. Drake said stiffly, his voice so guarded it seemed intended only for his friend as he slid his wool cap back on.

Lizbeth’s brow furrowed. How did he know the location of their farm?

Perhaps the other coal barons did as well. Was that what had Pa worried? That they were all under scrutiny?

“Yes, about a mile.” Wind stirred Jayne’s hair.

Mr. Brydolf was already pulling off his fawn-colored coat. “Might we—might we walk with you a ways?”

Mr. Drake gave a slight shake of his head, which his friend ignored.

Before Lizbeth could question further, Mr. Brydolf shoved back crisp white shirtsleeves. He offered Jayne his coat then gripped the blackened handles of the barrow with clean but able-looking hands.

Gulping, Jayne silently beseeched Lizbeth, who nodded an assurance.

“Just over the ridge.” Jayne wiped her hands on the cleanest corner of her apron before draping his coat over her arm.

“Then lead the way.” Mr. Brydolf smiled and together, he and Jayne fell in step.

Lizbeth hung back. While she couldn’t be sure of Mr. Brydolf’s purpose, she wouldn’t let this moment go to waste.

Could this be Jayne’s chance at an all-new life?

It was risky to hope, but even if these men would be gone soon to their world of riches, these encounters with Mr. Brydolf would at least be a bright memory for Jayne to carry with her.

Lizbeth would hope for more—but secret-like for now.

Mr. Drake walked in silence at Lizbeth’s side, his shoes clean beside her own. He took off his own coat and draped it over his arm. “I’ll carry it myself.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she said, a little too dryly.

As Mr. Drake rolled his eyes, the reaction seemed directed at himself. “I’m sorry. Callum has such happy manners and I can’t seem to match them.”

At the display of vulnerability, Lizbeth replied in kind. “I feel the same about Jayne. She’s a true angel.”

Mr. Drake’s focus didn’t drift to Jayne as happened with most men who soaked in the sight of her beauty. Instead, it lingered only on Lizbeth. “You are close in age?”

“She’s older by two years. She’s always been a big help to Ma.”

“And you?”

“I do my best to help them both and then somehow the day always finds me outdoors.” Realizing she’d already told him about that, she tried to think of something new.

“Anything in the beauty of the day. New River has some lovely land by way of the forest for walks as well.” She waved a hand at the trees around them.

Perhaps this stroll might be her favorite part of the day.

That’s if Mr. Drake didn’t ruin it.

He made a silent study of her as though to find out what stories her blackened hem and streaked apron might tell. He was a curious fellow, this man who seemed to seek answers to unspoken questions. Divulging little, absorbing much.

“What else is it that interests you?” he asked. The question much like the one he’d asked her the night of the dance. She blushed at the memory of how she’d told Hattie that his hand had gripped her waist then and how his eyes were the color of gingerbread.

Unable to look at his face now, Lizbeth caught an early raindrop in her hand. “Well, I’d like to figure out a way to help my Pa. Our farm.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “And your stitching?”

He remembered? “I’m trying to put more focus on my sampler. This week I finished the word therefore .”

To her surprise, he smiled a little at her candor. “That is noteworthy.”

Her cheeks warmed. “I should have made more progress but I got caught up in some reading,” she added.

“Have you a library here?”

“There’s a place to borrow books but it costs two pennies each time, so we only read the books we have at home. A few that Pa keeps on hand. I’ve already read them a dozen times. Jayne as well.”

“You have to pay to borrow books here?”

“It’s a coal town, Mr. Drake. Folks ’round here have to pay for everything.”

“ Except to gather coal.”

Her feet slowed, but she wouldn’t be intimidated. “That’s free so long as you don’t get caught.” She cast him a sideways glance.

“Which you seem to have a knack for.”

“Comes with years of practice.” She fought the urge to prickle at his candor and instead turned the tables on him. “How do you like to fill the day, Mr. Drake?”

“Well, apart from business, I keep horses. I also enjoy reading, Miss Bennet. I have a small library on the Pemberley.”

“You do?” She couldn’t imagine a library on a train.

“It’s just a few bookshelves, really. But it holds all the ones I like to keep with me.”

The wonder of it. How she longed to see such a sight, though she’d never admit it. “Sounds very nice.”

Where most people might extend an invitation, Mr. Drake remained silent. He adjusted his snug collar and his arm ever so slightly brushed hers.

They each took a step apart.

“And how long do you plan on staying here in New River?” she asked.

“At least a few weeks more.”

Then this was her chance to unravel more of the unknowns.

The mysteries that rose up from the ground beneath them.

“The other businessmen who arrived, they all own coal mines?” She recalled the sight of them at the dance, all done up in suits and fancy hats and looking dreadfully out of place just as this man beside her had.

He nodded. “Most from up north.”

“And one will try to buy the mine.”

Another nod. “That’s the way of it.”

“All so Mr. Jorgensen can retire.”

“Correct.”

“Will it get... Will it be...” She struggled to put her worries into words. Especially now that they’d stopped walking and the eyes she’d been so bent on describing to Hattie suddenly searched her own.

Had they been standing this close all the while?

She blinked to center her thoughts back on the land and stepped on again. “It would seem right if one of the residents could own the company instead. Someone who knows the lay of the land. Its history. Its people.” Someone even like her pa. “But no one in New River could afford it.”

His gaze—pensive and somehow gentle—stayed focused on her face.

“I understand what you’re saying. In all fairness, I’m a little puzzled myself about the details of the matter.

There are a few questions of my own to sort out still.

From what I understand, the other bidders in the running are doing the same. ”

Bidders in the running. All for the only place she and so many others had ever called home.

She thought of the young women she’d seen at the row housing.

The children and babies. This decision would affect so many.

Even for the boys in the mine who worked the same hours as a man.

What hope might there also be for them in this?

Lizbeth found her voice again. “Which is why these proceedings will take several weeks?”

“That’s the way I’m seeing it.”

She peered up at him. Was it wise to try and better understand this man? Could doing so help her family? “May I ask how many coal companies you own already?”

“Two. If I purchase New River, it would be three.” His eyes tightened a little as though regretting how calculating that sounded.

Before she could piece together more questions, the farm came into view from its low little valley surrounded by trees of birch and ash. Their haven and home.

Did these men understand what that was like?

Ahead, Jayne and Mr. Brydolf slowed, their exchange warm and lively. Mr. Brydolf laughed and Jayne’s eyes were bright as fireflies. He took his coat from her, and held it open for her to wear. When she tried to refuse, he insisted.

Time yet to beat the storm if they hurried. Ma would no doubt be watching the road for them and want Lizbeth and Jayne to help take in the laundry on the line. They’d likely get soaked in the process, but no sense delaying these men any further from their return.

Lizbeth turned to Mr. Drake. “Good afternoon.”

“And to you as well,” he said quietly. He tipped his head and before his friend could even join him, he took a few strides back up the lane and waited.

Lizbeth couldn’t tell if it was frustration or the gravity of the world on his shoulders, but she rationed all her curiosity for Jayne.

As for Mr. Drake’s hopes and fears? Lizbeth cared only in regard to what it meant for New River and her home.

Beyond that? She had absolutely no need to understand more of the man behind the suit.