Page 52 of The Heart of Bennet Hollow

Once she and Pa reached the hoist barn, once the door clattered open, Lizbeth squeezed through the doorway and inside.

So close was the press of miners within, so strong the scent of grease and sweat, that she could scarcely tell which man she followed through the echoing building until she heard Pa’s voice among them.

“This way, Lizzy. Hopper cars are over here.” Pa reached a foreman at the other end. “We need to get through to the track. It’s urgent.”

The man thumbed over his shoulder to another set of doors.

“That way. Mind the cargo. And best hurry.” He consulted a dented timepiece.

“Train’s leaving as soon as possible to make up time.

We got a wire that it was unexpectedly delayed and the train has finally pulled in.

The line is running thirty minutes late.

So we need to make up time.” He shook his head.

Pressing her way through the crushing crowd of miners, Lizbeth squeezed past the second open doorway and back to the world outside.

She ducked around men carrying sacks of animal feed.

Just below, the train stretched long and lean beneath a coming sunset.

It inched forward as coal spilled, pound by pound, from the New River hopper into a series of open hopper cars.

A man balancing a clipboard stopped her on the outer deck. “Can I help you, miss?”

She halted on the top step of the rear coal yard where dust swirled and pouring coal clattered. “We’re looking for a certain mule,” she called over the ruckus. “Mr. Jorgensen’s already given us permission.”

“Then take those stairs there.” The man pointed with a craggy hand. “Stock cars are just beyond.”

“And have you seen a man named Westgard by any chance?”

“No miss. Not lately.”

Her feet pounded down the stairs which zig-zagged past another doorway—this one leading into a tunnel where carts came and went.

A man guarding the doorway into the earth below raised the flame on his lantern.

The tunnel within brightened. Just beyond, a low ceiling was carved from earth.

Rough-hewn stalls narrowly separated mules.

Several blinked longingly in her direction.

A rat scurried the length of the floor, disappearing into shadow.

Lizbeth coughed at the ripe smell, William’s fears now in focus at what she would see in the underground stables.

All intensified with an ache to help. To find Eugene.

Such a quest required help, so she was all the more grateful for Pa’s constant presence right behind.

New River spoke to William the moment he disembarked. He longed to go and find Lizbeth first, but with the train delayed, time was of the essence. He needed to catch Jorgensen before the man locked up for the evening.

A clatter came from the Pemberley where railway workers uncoupled her from the rest of the train, per protocol.

It was with the same haste that William aimed for the coal company office, which sat against the hillside that spewed black smoke from two pipelines.

Steeling himself beside the door, he knocked quickly.

A shuffle sounded within, and Jorgensen opened the door.

William pulled off his cap. “Good evening, sir. I have your offer,” he blurted in a rush.

Forehead creasing, Jorgensen pulled a napkin from his shirt collar. “Mr. Drake. I hadn’t expected you.”

William shook his head. “For that I apologize. The train was... delayed unexpectedly, and I didn’t get a chance to wire you.

” There was no way to explain his aunt’s appearance, so he didn’t try.

“To make up the time, the conductor halted all opportunities to disembark save the few moments it takes to switch passengers. I was unable to send or receive any telegrams the last twenty miles.”

“Well, perfect timing, I’d say. I was just considering the final offers.” When Jorgensen waved him over to the desk, William took a seat. Jorgensen tossed his napkin aside. “I had feared you were out of the running.”

“No, sir. Not at all.” William pulled an envelope from his vest pocket. “And if you’ll allow me, I have my official offer. Here.” He slid the envelope across the crowded desk.

The mine owner flicked open the envelope and he glimpsed the number written inside. A flush rose up his neck. “I—I understand you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have, sir. And I’m ready to make the deposit if you wish to accept the offer. I have cash.”

“Cash?”

“Yes, sir.” It was the cleanest way to go about it. William adjusted the knot of his tie.

Jorgensen scanned the distant wall as if trying to compute what this meant. “Well, here’s the problem... It’s the same amount as the last offer that came in. Just before yours.”

“I see.”

“I received a message just yesterday that the offer was increased by a thousand dollars.” Jorgensen slid over a telegram. “You can read it here. To prove I’m not bluffing.”

After reading the telegram, William ran a thumb over his mouth. He had no more funds liquidated. Not unless he sold some of his property or holdings. Not unless he made changes amid his other businesses or...

Lady Light flashed through his mind.

Her silken coat as she stood in the sunshine, greeting him. One of the most valuable possessions in his care but he didn’t own her. He couldn’t sell the horse even if he wanted to and even that would break him.

Had he reached the point of failure? In all these months... it had come down to this.

His mind bounced from Lady Light to his carriages.

He had a collection of guns he could part with.

Then there was the silver. Rubbing fingertips against his forehead, William spoke without looking up.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I need an hour or two to make some phone calls. Would you allow me that?”

“Well—”

“If I might send a few urgent telegrams—”

“Er—it’s just that, Mr. Drake—”

“I won’t take any more time than—”

“She’s yours, sir.”

William slowly lifted his head. “I’m sorry?”

“The mine here in New River. She’s yours.”

His brow lifted. “I don’t understand.”

Jorgensen gave a slight chuckle. “I’ve been speaking to my wife the last few days, and what with her opinions, and my own understanding of you, my own years spent here...” His expression went wistful. “She and I both agreed that the mine should be sold to you.”

“And the difference in price?”

“Allow us to remain on as shareholders. At, say, two percent?”

The sun awoke in William’s spirit. He reached over and extended a hand. “Consider it done.”

“We’ll have paperwork drawn up, of course.”

“Of course. I have my lawyer, Mr. Brydolf, here with me. But I have a hunch he’s down at Bennet Hollow, where I’m due myself.”

“Good, good. Tomorrow morning it is. Bright and early. Bring your man here at nine and we’ll settle all the paperwork.”

“Excellent.” After shaking the owner’s hand again, William rose. “I’ll go and let him know.”

“Of course. Though, if he’s gone to speak with Bennet, the man’s not at home. He’s here, down at the coal yard.”

“This close to nightfall?” William’s steps led him to the door.

“Headed that way not long ago. There was a mix-up over a mule. His daughter’s there with them. They’re tryin’ to find their animal before it’s loaded onto a stock car. Lucky for them, the train’s been delayed.”

In the distance, the whistle blew.

“May still be too late.”

“Is there anything you can do?” William’s hand fumbled for the door latch.

“Afraid not. He was sold to a different mine. Somewhere in Kentucky. But there might be time to help if you can catch them.”