Page 46 of The Heart of Bennet Hollow

The Vermont air was clear and bright as William descended the carriage steps and tossed a wave to his driver. “Thank you, sir!”

“Safe travels to you, Mr. Drake!”

With sure steps, William aimed for the crowded depot of Shelburne.

Farther away from his estate just a mile back up the road.

Ahead, the Pemberley stood coupled into position at the end of the southbound train.

The location would afford an unguarded view of every mile the train wound into the Appalachian hills, half a dozen states away.

And he was so close to a solution for the New River mine.

The main hurdle left to resolve was how he would generate electricity in a town so remote.

He was getting closer, but the clock ticked endlessly in his mind, and Jorgensen would need an offer on his desk soon.

Time was of the essence.

As he wove through the crowd, William patted his coat pocket where he kept the itinerary for this trip, including meetings with several hand-selected engineers and electricians in just as many cities.

Somewhere in the midst of those, he would try and intercept Lady Light to ensure that she was well settled into her new training routine.

His Aunt Catherine had telephoned, announcing she’d meet them as well and was still arranging the specific location.

As William remained in touch with the trainer and jockey, he’d confirmed that the new silks were being commissioned by a tailor.

He needed the jockey’s uniform to be finished before the opening at the Belmont races in May.

Everything was in motion. All of it needing his attention.

First, the rails would guide him back to New River.

Walking the length of the fifty-eight-foot Pullman car, William confirmed that she was in tip-top shape.

All looked ready for his departure in a few hours’ time.

Cook had finalized the menu and laid up enough supplies for the first leg of the journey, but he meant to correct the travelling numbers.

While he’d expected Callum to venture with him again, the man was out of state.

So the passenger number for this voyage across the miles was one .

At the clatter of a wagon approaching, William moved out of the way, just missing a puddle.

Horses clomped down the street, pulling a loaded cart.

Hay spilled from a pile on top, floating to the road.

Nearby, one of his maintenance men balanced on a ladder.

The man looked as old as time with a few strands of white hair peeking out from beneath a tattered cap.

A wrinkled hand rose to unscrew a lightbulb from an exterior sconce with fingers that struggled.

William persisted down the length of the car where he braced a hand to the edge of the man’s ladder. “Everything looks in good order. Thank you.”

The old-timer squinted down. “Be that Mr. Drake?” His voice was as gravelly as the soil between the tracks.

“It is, sir. How are you today?”

“Oh, fine. Fine, sir. Another day above ground so I can’t complain.” The man carefully loosened the bulb with wrinkled fingers. When he finished, William reached up to take it.

“Why thank you, son.”

From sir to son . He liked this man and always had.

“If you don’t mind handin’ up the new one. It’ll be there in the tool chest.” The hand that pointed that way tremored.

William knelt and pulled a boxed bulb from the metal chest with care. Just last year, he’d paid several thousand dollars for the Pemberley’s gas lamps to be converted to electric lighting.

“Do these burn out often?” he asked.

“Oh, not all that often. Just now and again when the filament gives out.”

William noted the four coils meant to brighten and glow.

The cogs in his mind spun, but he couldn’t assemble the order yet.

Still, the constant grinding reminded him that three coal barons had made offers on the New River mine now.

And none of them would have the town’s best interest in mind.

Nor the surrounding farmland’s. He needed to find a way to secure all of it.

Which had one substantial idea rolling around in his mind— electricity .

If only he could make this idea work. “May I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

William heeded the way the new bulb was screwed into place. “What is the secret?”

“To how the bulb works?”

“I mean electricity in general. What makes it a success?”

“Well...” The man’s legs shook as he descended. William braced the ladder again. “I suppose it be a few things. It makes folks awful happy. The flip of a switch and they can see their suppers. Their loved ones’ faces good and bright. It also brings convenience as well as consistency.”

That was all true. He’d witnessed it himself.

“Though there’s somethin’ romantic about candlelight. If with the right company.” The man—probably married for fifty years now—smiled.

Well said. “And beyond that?”

“Well, I don’t quite know what you’re gettin’ at, son.” Worn work boots finally reached the ground.

William folded the ladder and laid it aside. “Can you spare a moment?” Since the maintenance man knew every detail about this home on rails, William led the way to his office at the back. “I’d like to know what you think of something.”

With light from the observation dome filtering down, William dug through the papers on his desk that smelled of lemon and beeswax thanks to his housemaids giving his office a once-over.

William offered over a set of drawings. “These are an exact rendering of a coal mine. The various tunnels, exits. This is where I’d like to place electricity and exactly where several engineers have said it’s a fool’s errand.”

“Mmm.” The man leaned nearer and studied the drawings.

“Please, sit.” William pulled out a chair.

There was that dry chuckle again. “We both know I’m not allowed to sit in your company.”

“Please.” William pulled up a second chair and sat.

The man’s joints creaked as he lowered himself. “Well, then.” With knobby hands, he lifted the nearest drawing closer. His milky-white eyes roved each sketch.

William inched his chair nearer. “I’ve reached out to a number of engineers and so far each has advised against attempting to install electricity in a coal mine. But it’s currently being done by another company. I tried to stress that but the professionals I’ve spoken to are unwavering.”

“What will you do then?”

“Find one that believes it’s possible. I travel this week in hopes of doing just that.” And he was running out of time. “The concern doesn’t seem to be about power itself so much as it is with generating that power.”

“Exactly.”

“I still don’t see the solution.”

The man examined the drawings again. “Fascinating. Just fascinating.”

With muted footsteps and a swish of her gray dress, Cook entered the office.

Wood clattered against the metal hearth as she lowered an armload of sharp-scented pine.

William nodded his thanks when she promised to fix up a pot of coffee for his guest. William meant to help with these final preparations, but first. ..

“The question is, can it be done?” he asked. “I’m heading to a very remote town. Scant resources. It would mean starting from the ground up. Introducing technology that has never been present there before. Which circles me back to the question if this is madness.”

The man chuckled. “A fair question, but one you haven’t asked yet. And your reason for this?”

William matched the man’s amusement. “Let’s say I’m strongly motivated.

” It was in his power to help the town of New River and he would do so, but he couldn’t proceed without a clear plan.

Especially if his aunt chose to disown him and remove his inheritance.

Should that happen, he would need all of his businesses to be as profitable as possible to maintain his estate, which was not only his and Anna’s home, but their servants’ as well.

No, Aunt Catherine didn’t know he longed for a girl from coal country—and had even sought her hand—but there was a good chance the woman would find out, as he meant to ask that girl again.

Humbly. Softly. Just once more...

“The mine’s for sale,” William explained, trying to steady his focus. “One buyer or another is going to walk away with its future in their hands. Should it be me, I want to ensure I do the best job I can.”

A tattered cap came off and thin white hair caught the brightness of day from the overhead dome. “Basically, it all depends.”

“On what?”

“On your generator.” His eyes searched William’s, driving home the crucial detail.

“Size’ll matter as will power source. Water—steam or current.

Coal? Somethin’ else entirely? The world is changing awfully fast, Mr. Drake.

When I was a lad, I couldn’t fathom a lightbulb. And now replacing them is my job.”

William pondered that. The air chilling in the car, he rose and piled several chunks of wood in the small fireplace. “What do you suggest?”

“You want advice from a crusty old laborer like me?”

Yes. He needed wisdom from a man who understood what the passing of time resulted in. This man had what the engineers lacked. Time across the eras. Perseverance.

“Well, if the goal is electricity, then I say you should go straight to the top.”

“Thomas Edison?” William crumpled up a sheet of old newspaper.

That produced a louder laugh. “Nah, son. You don’t need to reinvent the lightbulb. Just the generator.”

The generator. William watched as the laborer skimmed the drawings again.

“To Pullman.” The man admired the ceiling, then the rest of the car’s interior.

“Pullman himself oversaw the making of the generator for this very mansion on the tracks. You mentioned this mine being remote and yet you get electricity any day of the year—no matter how distant between towns aboard these rails. You’ve got light, even refrigeration.

You want for nothing. If anyone is the genius of what’s capable in the middle of nowhere, it’s Pullman.

The creator of these cars. You need to think like him .

Forget all the commentary about that town being remote. It doesn’t matter one drop.”

William struck a match and lowered it to the paper, considering that.

He didn’t want to tell this man that George Pullman had died a few years back.

“The Pullman company,” he mused aloud, shaking out the match.

Smoke curled. The tiny flames that had caught grew and sparked as the newspaper blackened.

“Not because they invent sleeping cars...”

“But because they make power. This entire car is a moving generator. Every time the wheels beneath you turn, they produce energy. It’s a perfect design.”

William straightened. “Right, but when the car is parked for days on end, the porter has to change out the battery. Probably why none of my engineers have mentioned such a possibility.”

“’Cause they’re seeing it all too close.

” The man illustrated that by moving the paper near his face.

“A narrow view makes everything go dark.” He raised the paper to the window.

“When you’re tryin’ to solve a riddle, you gotta take a step back.

” He gave a scraggly-toothed smile. “You gotta hold an idea up to the light. That’s what makes just about anything clear. ”

“Wise words.” William returned to the desk. “Can I ask you where the generator is located?”

A wrinkled thumb angled toward the carpeted floor. “Just below this beauty. Between her axles. The generator draws power from the wheels whenever the axles are in motion. And if you can find a source in this town of yours that can do the same, that just might be the ticket.”

Wheels. Axles. He made mental note of that.

Rising fully now, William moved his chair aside. All New River had currently was a small battery at the depot to power a telegraph machine. He knew of waterpower, but would that be enough to fuel an entire mine? “Can you show me?”

“Well, son, my crawlin’-under-train days are over.”

All the more reason for a promotion. They had a little time left before this train departed.

William called down the hallway to Cook, asking her to serve their guest his coffee outside.

Then he pulled off his jacket and loosened his tie.

“How about I strike you a deal. I’ll do the crawling, if you do the talking. ”