Page 32 of The Heart of Bennet Hollow

The Bennets’ front door sounded more fragile with each knock of William’s knuckles.

The same way his spirit had felt ever since his encounter with Lizbeth in the mine office yesterday.

Now to find the words again. Better words.

He hadn’t meant to disregard her feelings when she’d entered the office, her eagerness shining through as she clutched a basket handle.

Quite the contrary. He only meant to keep her safe.

She didn’t know the horrors beneath the earth or what she suggested by asking to venture down into the shaft herself.

To think of her donning a lantern, entering the creaking hoist cage, and descending to the lower levels curdled his blood.

Worse would be when she saw the stables and the poor creatures they held.

The darkness. The stench. The bleakness of animals that had no one to fight for them.

Mules that didn’t know the soft touch of grass or the glitter of the moon.

A woman like Lizbeth Bennet belonged above ground where her spirit was free to soar. Much like her cherished animals deserved. To see them in any other condition would be a sight she’d never shake from her memory. So he’d slammed her inquiry to a halt. Much too forcefully.

Willam knocked again.

He’d been too harsh with her. Too protective and reactionary.

Desperate to apologize, the delivery of Callum’s package got him down the road to this very stoop.

Not to mention, it was high time he speak with Mr. Bennet and try to help solve this land matter before someone else with darker motives did.

Every step here had been in protection of the Bennet family.

Now to express that more graciously than he had the day before.

Moving back, William glimpsed the second story windows. The faces of the younger girls peeked down. One of them giggled. They dispersed and the ivory curtains swished close. Voices rang out from within, the sound of his name capping the excited chatter.

The door swung open. Mrs. Bennet filled the doorway with her graying bun and flour-dusted apron. “Well, a good day to you, Mr.Drake. To what do we owe this surprise?” She widened the slant of the door, beckoning him in.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Inside, the essence of baking bread mixed with laughter.

Someone had strung a garland of dried apple slices and acorns along the banister.

Pine cones topped the stone mantle. William noted the tin cups dotting the supper table and its checkered cloth.

A piano lacking several keys sat in a corner where a trio of potted plants caught sun from a window.

He soaked it all in, this picture of home.

William shifted his feet, eager to stay and just as much out of place.

“I’ve brought a package for your eldest, Jayne.

And I was hoping I might speak for a few minutes with your husband.

” It seemed safer to ask for Lizbeth’s father.

He’d face Lizbeth before leaving as that would surely be the hardest conversation of all.

“Pa’s not home,” one of the girls announced from the tight cluster of sisters now gathered near the stove. They were all smiles, braids, and swaying skirts. William nodded, uncertain of which one spoke. He searched for Lizbeth but didn’t see her among them.

“Then I’ll just leave the package and be off.

” Why was he panicking? William held the paper-wrapped bundle out to Mrs. Bennet, who instead scuttled over to the stairs and called up to the second floor.

“Jayne, girl!” The stout woman’s apron strings swung as she leaned over the rail. “A package for ya!”

Jayne’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. “For me?”

Lizbeth appeared right behind. Now his heart was really hammering.

Her hair lay pulled over one shoulder with a ribbon, and her brow pinched in confusion. She wore a skirt of brick red and a wool sweater that spoke of the coming winter and the crisp white snow that would soon fall.

Lizbeth’s eyes went wide at sight of him. “Mr. Drake?”

“William, please.”

Lizbeth moved around her sister so that Jayne leaned nearer to the banister.

He held up the offering all wrapped in paper and string. “From Callum. He sends this along with his regrets that he was pulled away for business.”

“He’s gone then?” Jayne whispered.

Had William advised his friend wrong? “Yes. But it’s very possible he may return soon.”

Jayne bent over the railing and accepted the package. “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course.” He glanced around at the faces.

He’d just have to find another moment to discuss the farm with their pa and his intentions to be of assistance in the land dispute.

Now if he could only summon the courage to get Lizbeth alone, to speak with her in the yard perhaps.

But the words that came out were “I’ll bid you all a good day. ”

He backed away, bumping into the edge of the table.

Briefly, William closed his eyes. He mined for any shred of courage that remained.

Perhaps the same kind that had fueled Lizbeth yesterday when entering the office.

She inspired him. If only she knew that.

“Before I leave, might I have a word with Miss Lizbeth?” he asked.

The entire kitchen fell silent. Outside, a woodpecker knocked against a tree.

“Well certainly!” Mrs. Bennet gripped the hem of her apron. “Lizzy, why don’t you see Mr. Drake out? Jayne can finish up your chore.”

Lizbeth fiddled with a wooden button on her sweater, the pale wool now the same shade as her face.

“For only a moment.” William squared his shoulders. “And only if it would suit you. I don’t want to take up your time and I can see you’re busy.”

Finally, she drew in a steadying breath. “Now would be fine.” She angled to Jayne, whispering, “I won’t be long.”

Head light, William stepped back. No sense prolonging what he needed to say.

The sun greeted him as he retreated to the stoop where a late October breeze lingered crisp and cold.

With Lizbeth close behind, he strode into the yard.

Still within view of her family, but not within earshot.

He searched for the right way to begin, but to his surprise, she began first.

“Mr. Drake.”

He turned and again said, “William, please.”

She ignored the request. “Mr. Drake, might I ask you somethin’?” Lizbeth walked onward. Her bootheels tread across the path, the sound muted and soft.

He followed. “Of course.” Why did his chest hurt?

It might have something to do with the way she wasn’t looking at him.

He pulled his hat off. His porter had cut his hair that morning.

For this very encounter. Neat and trimmed along the sides, as short as it would go.

The morning air was cool to his skin without the wool’s warmth.

Intensifying the way he felt like a stranger standing before her.

A foreign object beside her earthen beauty, one that didn’t seem to belong. Despite his growing wishes.

Except for his own sister, never could he recall a time when he’d spoken to a woman entirely alone. The breeze stirred her hair, and a lightning strike held less spark than her eyes just now.

“I owe you an apology,” he began.

“Is what Mr. Westgard said true?” She gripped the cuffs of her sweater, drawing her arms around herself.

“What Mr. Westgard said?” The name snapped off his tongue.

She looked small as her grip tightened. “About the land. The dispute over our ownership. That somehow all you investors have more of a right to this farm than we do.”

Westgard had told her that? The man knew next to nothing about these dealings but clearly imagined himself with a few aces in hand.

William’s heart jerked in regret. Out of anger toward an employee who had no business meddling in the affairs of others.

A rogue man who didn’t grasp the pains William was going through to right this situation.

“If you’ll help me understand what’s been said,” he began, “I’ll do my best to clear the air for you. ”

“Mr. Westgard said you’re after our land.”

“That I am not. I assure you.”

“And that you’re no different than the other investors. Trying to endear themselves to us only to gain an advantage.”

“I mean only to be sincere.”

When she scoffed, he braved more.

“What else did Westgard say?” William’s shadow crossed over hers when he stepped aside.

“That our days here—on this land—could be near an end because of you.”

William shook his head. “It isn’t so. In fact, I’ve spent my time here trying to—”

A single step forward. “You’ve been spendin’ these last weeks tryin’ to get us all to trust you.

Only to deceive us. Just like the others.

” Her accent, stronger now, tangled like a thistle bush in a rising storm.

She marched onward into the nearby field as though needing to hold ground in familiar territory.

William matched her pace even as he tried not to walk too close to her side.

“Please understand. There’s much more to it than that.

” Already, he’d scrawled an X across Bennet Hollow on his map, along with all the other farms. The land wasn’t for the taking.

At least not by him. “If I could only describe to you how complicated this matter is. How many pieces I’m still trying to sort out and why.

” He was desperate for her to understand.

“I only wish good things for your family. And for you. I do care.”

“Care? What you’ve been doin’ here ain’t carin’.

” Her lashes dipped as she searched the ground, casting tiny shadows on her cheeks from the distant sun.

A silken strand of brown hair fluttered against the side of her face and she pushed it away with the same determination that he saw in her expression as she raised her focus to him again.