Page 12 of The Heart of Bennet Hollow

“You did what ?” The wedge of hickory rattled against the grate as William added it to the fireplace.

“I suggested to Jayne that she and her sisters might borrow a few books from your library.” Callum finished hanging up another sock in front of the fireplace. It dripped onto the brick hearth.

Just outside the Pemberley’s windows, a cargo train lumbered by, clattering and swaying with dozens of boxcars. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” William said over the ruckus.

“Nonsense. You own more than enough books here, and it seemed like a nice gesture. Besides, I’d be glad for the chance to see Jayne again.”

William stared at his friend as broken light from the moving boxcars shifted over his face. “So that’s why you gave away your coat.”

“She looked cold and it felt... right. I don’t have as much time here as you do. I’ve got business back in Vermont and clients sending me telegrams nearly every other day. I have to return home before too long, and there’s something about her. It’s hard to describe, William.”

“I just don’t think getting too friendly will help anyone.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Because I’m thinking more clearly than you are.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Callum ran a hand through damp hair.

He wore a dry set of clothes now. His wet shirt hung near the fireplace along with everything else they’d been wearing when the downpour hit an hour ago.

“I saw the way you were captivated by Jayne’s sister.

I’ve never seen you so engrossed in a conversation with a woman before. Her name is Lizbeth, right?”

“That hardly matters.”

“She’s quite pretty, wouldn’t you say?”

William was not about to be baited. “I’ve seen plenty of pretty women.”

“So, you’re admitting that she is.”

“Her face was merely brightened by the exercise. Besides, didn’t you see what they were doing?”

“Bringing home coal for their family.”

“That they didn’t pay for. Which is against the law.”

“That’s up to the mine owner.”

“And the state they were in?”

Callum smiled. “A sight to behold.”

Outside the window, boxcars still rolled past with the roar of steel wheels on tracks, adding fuel to William’s agitation as he rose. “Are you honestly entertaining the idea of continuing a connection with Jayne Bennet?”

Finally, the last boxcar went by, and the rattle faded into the distance.

Callum sank into a chair. His gaze lingered on the flames that crackled brighter now. “Possibly. Your Aunt Catherine might be breathing down your neck to marry well, but I don’t have to answer to anyone as you do.”

William sank into the other chair, seated now beneath the very woman’s stony portrait—the gilt frame reflecting Aunt Catherine’s wealth and the stiff facade only a hint at the sternness with which she had helped raise him.

With silence settled, he searched for a fresh argument, noting the black streaks on Callum’s dripping shirt. “Your clothes are ruined.”

“My clothes are perfect. Did you see how lovely she was?”

“Lizbeth?”

“Jayne. And I thought you hadn’t noticed.”

William rolled his eyes. This was madness.

On his own desk sat maps of the Bennets’ beloved farm.

A farm that William might soon own. His friend was losing his mind.

William meant to avoid doing the same. Yes, Lizbeth was pretty.

She was considerate and quick-witted and while he was occasionally struck by both, what tempered it—what sobered him—were the names on the map of the New River Coal Company.

He knew better than to mix business with pleasure.

The name Bennet would never be written on his heart.

Not if it were to be written in his pocketbook.

Callum stared out to the distant countryside, the view open and wild again. All wet now beneath the autumn rain. “She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld.”

William wouldn’t argue with that. Even covered in coal dust Jayne was lovely.

Both sisters were.

Callum continued. “When I speak, she’s sincerely listening. She’s gentle and grounded. She doesn’t lean into me or flutter her lashes. There’s a genuineness about her that is indescribable.”

William understood more than he wanted to admit.

There was something about these sisters from New River that made for a stark contrast from the women they’d encountered in high society.

But this could never be. Attraction—no matter how fleeting—could not be cultivated and fed.

They were worlds apart. Two women who would become a distant memory and no more.

Time to dissuade his friend before this ended in disaster. “What you interpret as gentle may in fact be disinterest.”

Callum squinted. “How do you mean?”

“Jayne Bennet says so little that I’ve heard. Perhaps she’s merely being polite. Maybe she has different ideas for her life... or is already spoken for. Could it be that her modesty is due to her own uncertainty? It could be her way of not wanting to encourage affection.”

Callum stared into the flames. When he finally spoke, William couldn’t help but note the sound of pain in his voice. “Maybe I have been reading too much into it. When have we ever encountered an eligible and willing female who didn’t make her interest remarkably obvious?”

“Correct.” William recalled many encounters when both he and his friend had to practically pry loose from a woman’s gloved grip.

Rarely had they been in polite society without every eligible woman in the room casting them a sideways glance.

It seemed women made it quite plain when they were interested.

But Jayne was different. Likely thought differently about it too.

He didn’t see how a woman could hold the kind of interest that might lead to matrimony, if it weren’t obvious.

The sooner Callum understood that, the better off he would be.

The last thing they needed to add to this trip to Virginia was heartache.

“Ma, can you warm the kettle?” Lizbeth called down the stairs. “I’m worried Jayne’s caught cold from the rain.”

“Oh dear.” The kettle clattered into place. “I’ll fetch your pa’s canteen and we can fill it to warm her feet.”

Lizbeth knelt beside the lower bunk where Jayne had fallen asleep shortly after their return.

“I’ll fetch her an extra blanket.” Once the thunderclouds opened, she and Jayne had sent the men back on their way, insisting the weather would only worsen and that they were nearly home.

Callum Brydolf had agreed to turn back only when Jayne accepted his coat which now lay folded in the washbasin, wet and wilted.

Lizbeth and Jayne had pushed the wheelbarrow the final stretch and been soaked by the time they finally parked it beneath the eaves.

They’d changed into dry nightgowns right away, despite it only being the afternoon.

Jayne was shivering while she crawled beneath her quilt, promising to only close her eyes for a moment.

Lizbeth touched the back of her hand to Jayne’s rosy cheek then grabbed her needlepoint. She slipped downstairs to find her family gathered around the glow of the fire. Pa read from his paper.

Lizbeth kissed the top of his head. “Any news from the day, Pa?” She settled into a cushioned chair that had seen better days. “Anything new at the mine?” Still waiting for the kettle to steam, she plunged her needle into the linen, curious to learn more about what William Drake had alluded to.

“ New at the mine?” Kit’s brows furrowed.

Her plaid nightgown fit a size too small, allowing her ankles to peek out as she sat on the hearth beside Lacey.

A tin of paper dolls sat between them, dressed in fine gowns that the girls fashioned from scraps of paper as though to relive the glories of the dance from the week before.

“I mean about its sale,” Lizbeth clarified.

“My...” Lacey’s teasing voice spliced the room. “Someone’s curious about these new coal barons in town.”

Lizbeth ignored her.

“I’ve heard that one of the businessmen has already made an offer,” Pa began.

“So soon?”

“I imagine some are anxious to get home. Not every man feels at ease here in New River. It’s a different territory than they’re used to.”

“But not Mr. Drake,” Maryanne said. “Not after what you told us.”

“Right.” Pa glanced to Lizbeth again. “I was just telling the girls that William Drake intends to head down into the mine himself and examine every level.”

“Every level?” Ma cried. “A man like him?”

Kit and Lacey danced their paper dolls in a waltz.

“At least one of them ain’t so eager to leave.” Lacey winked.

Ignoring her sister’s prodding, Lizbeth angled her needle back into the linen of her sampler, placing the final stitch into the letter n . Next would be a d ... fitting considering the subject of conversation.

“Time’ll tell.” Pa bent to add another piece of wood to the hearth.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us. I’ve had most of the bidders askin’ for samples of ore, and Mr. Jorgensen has arranged for me to make sure they’re properly weighed and stamped.

Work I’m glad for, mind you.” The fire popped and crackled, casting light on Pa’s hands—marked and lined from years of scouring the earth.

“It won’t be long now until it’s all decided.

I’ve heard that Mr. Drake has miners coming from Pennsylvania who work for him.

He set up enough space in the row housing for six men. ”

“Six more men!” Maryanne swiveled around in her chair.

Lacey squealed in glee.

“That’s all I know, but we’ll soon find out more when they arrive,” Pa said.

“I heard a rumor at school today that there’s gonna be a bidding war. Just think.” Lacey squinted as she held a paper doll up to the light. “All these rich fellas tryin’ to outbid each other! I wonder how much the mine’ll sell for.” She sighed. “If only we could see that much money.”

Ma sat down with her knitting. “That’s all none of your nevermind.”

“We saw Mr. Drake walkin’ today on the road.” Lizbeth pulled her thread tight and reached for the tiny pair of scissors she kept in her stitching tin.

“Is that what took you so long?” Kit folded the hem on a paper gown with her fingertips.

“I thought we made rather good time. Mr. Brydolf even pushed the wheelbarrow.”

“And Mr. Drake?” Kit scrunched up her nose.

“Never mind about that. I think Mr. Brydolf’s taken a shine to Jayne. He talked and talked with her the whole way home.”

“That so?” Ma’s face brightened quicker than her needles could knit. “Tell us more, Lizzy.”

Lizbeth threaded her needle with another shade of hand-dyed thread.

This one a cheery green that she’d boiled with carrot tops to borrow the pretty color.

“We met them on the road as we were walkin’ back from the culm banks.

Oh, we looked a sight.” She slid the first stitch into the letter d .

The sampler would soon read, The night is far spent, the day is at hand.

Still only halfway finished. “Wait—” Lizbeth lowered her work.

“Is that why you sent us to fetch coal today?”

Ma pursed her lips together.

“You knew Mr. Brydolf would be on the road!”

“I might’ve heard that they’d meet with Mr. Jorgensen in the morning and would be off to walk the length of the road to see more of the land. I was in the post office visitin’ with the post-master’s wife. So, I hurried on home, thinkin’ that if Jayne passed by, he might see her again and she him.”

Lizbeth gaped. “But Jayne might’ve caught cold!”

“She’ll fare just fine. Your water’s boilin’.”

Lizbeth rose.

“Take a hot canteen up to her to warm her feet, and she’ll be as good as new in a few days.” Ma nodded, looking pleased.

“Well,” Pa teased, “if Jayne does die, it’ll be a comfort to know that it was in pursuit of such a favorable match.”

“Now, now, the lot of you!” Ma chided. “People do not die of colds . Least of all Jayne. She’s a proper mountain girl. And so very beautiful. Mark my words, Mr. Brydolf’ll be in love with her by the end of the week. That’s if I have anythin’ to say about it.”