Shine Like the Dawn Page 9

  Maggie stifled a groan and refilled her glass. That was a ridiculous line of thinking. She didn’t care who the girl was or what Nate thought of her…at least not very much.

  The curtain separating the shop from the back room swished to the side, and Grandmother hobbled through. “I thought I heard you come in. How was the funeral?”

  Maggie turned toward Grandmother. “The service was long. The church was cold, and it was so crowded I had a hard time finding a seat.”

  Grandmother nodded. “I thought there would be a good number attending.”

  Maggie slowly sipped her water, hoping to put off her grandmother’s questions.

  “You were gone longer than I expected. Did you speak to the family?”

  So much for that hope. “I spoke to Nate after the graveside service.”

  Grandmother’s eyebrows rose. “And…?”

  “I offered my condolences.” Maggie finished her drink and set the glass aside. “Where is Violet?”

  “I set her up in the shop with a stack of drawing paper and pencils.”

  “I’m sure she’ll enjoy that.” Maggie crossed the room toward the shop.

  Grandmother reached out to stop her. “Did you tell Nate you would accept the money?”

  Heat flared in Maggie’s face. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Oh, Maggie. Why didn’t you speak up?”

  She bristled and stepped away. Why couldn’t her grandmother understand and let it go?

  “Kindness and humility will take you much further in life than pride and a stubborn spirit.”

  Maggie faced her grandmother. “My decision about the money has nothing to do with pride or a stubborn spirit.”

  “Then why not accept it?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “And they are?”

  Her gaze darted around the room as she searched for an answer. “I don’t want to feel an obligation toward the Harcourts.”

  Grandmother slowly shook her head. “Accepting that money would be a step toward healing the breach that separates you.”

  “What if I don’t want it healed?”

  “Then I’m afraid the Lord may have to teach you that lesson another way.”

  Maggie snatched her hat and gloves off the table and darted up the stairs, her heart hammering and her grandmother’s words echoing through her mind.

  “Violet, wait for me!” Maggie grabbed hold of her hat and dashed down the street after her sister. “You’re going to plant your face in a puddle if you don’t slow down!”

  Violet vaulted ahead on her crutches, swinging herself forward with huge steps. “We’re almost there,” she called, undaunted.

  “Dr. Hadley will not appreciate your pace or the muddy splashes on your cast.”

  Violet flew around the corner and didn’t stop until she reached the side door to the village hospital. She turned and sent Maggie a gleeful smile. “See, I didn’t fall.” That was true, but her cheeks glowed bright pink and several strands of hair had come loose from her braids.

  Maggie lifted her eyes to the sky. “Heaven only knows why.”

  “Good day, ladies.”

  Maggie glanced over her shoulder and pulled in a sharp breath. Nate crossed the street toward them, wearing a charcoal-gray suit and hat and looking every bit like the handsome new master of Morningside Manor. She squelched that thought with a silent reminder not to make a fool of herself.

  He tipped his hat to them. “Violet, you travel at an amazing speed.”

  Her little sister grinned. “I don’t mind the crutches at all.”

  “I can see that.” He smiled and pleasant lines creased the area around his eyes and mouth. He darted a glance at Maggie. “I was actually on my way to see you.”

  “You were?” Her cheeks warmed, and she silently scolded herself again.

  “Yes, I thought I’d stop in and check on Violet.”

  “We’re just on our way to see Dr. Hadley.”

  A hint of concern lit his eyes. “I hope everything is all right.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it is. We just want him to look at Violet’s cast. She cracked it coming down the stairs this morning.”

  “The stairs?” He lifted his dark eyebrows.

  “Yes.” Maggie looked away and shifted her weight to the other foot. She probably shouldn’t have given in to Violet’s pleas and let her make that climb. But her sister had been begging for days and insisting she was strong enough. Going up had gone relatively smoothly, though Maggie had held her breath and followed close behind. When it was time to come down this morning, Violet had done it so quickly she’d smacked her foot into the wall.

  Violet looked down at the cast. “It’s just a small crack, but Maggie said we had to come.”

  “Yes, I did, though I expect Dr. Hadley will give us both a scolding. I should’ve made you stay downstairs.”

  Violet pushed out her lower lip. “But I missed you, Maggie. And besides that, Grandmother snores like a bear.”

  Nate lifted his hand to cover his mouth, but he couldn’t hold back his chuckle. Maggie soon joined him, her heart suddenly feeling light. How long had it been since she’d put aside her worries and laughed with a friend? Much too long.

  Violet looked back and forth between them with a puzzled expression. “What is so funny?”

  Nate grinned. “We’re just enjoying your observations about your grandmother.”

  Violet’s eyes widened. “You mustn’t tell her I said that. She wouldn’t like it.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” He winked at Violet.

  Relief flooded Violet’s face. “Thank you!”

  The hospital door opened, and Mr. Alvin Neatherton, owner of Neatherton’s Shoes and Boots and Maggie’s neighbor, stepped out. “Good morning, Maggie, Violet.” He glanced at Nate with slightly narrowed eyes.

  “Good morning, Mr. Neatherton.” Maggie introduced the two men.

  Mr. Neatherton lifted his chin. “So you’re the new lord of Morningside Manor.”

  Nate straightened. “My father’s estate has passed to me. But there’s no hereditary title.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Your father might have been a baron, but that title went with him to the grave.” His tone held a slight challenge.

  Maggie’s eyes widened. Mr. Neatherton was a proud man, but she’d never known him to be unkind. Her gaze darted to Nate, but he didn’t seem bothered by the comment. In fact, a kind, open expression filled his face.

  “I understand you make the finest boots in Northumberland.”

  Mr. Neatherton’s chest puffed out. “Well, folks do say that here in the village, though I would never be so bold as to make that claim myself.”

  “Your son, Joseph, says it’s true, and I am in need of a new pair of boots. Might I come by your shop later this morning? I’d like to see what you would recommend.”

  Mr. Neatherton rubbed his chin and eyed Nate’s boots with an arched eyebrow. “Of course. I’d be glad to show you what we have to offer and measure you for a fine pair of boots.”

  “Very good. I have a few other items of business to see to. Will you be back at the shop by eleven?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m headed that way now.”

  “Very good. I’ll see you later this morning.” Nate waited for Mr. Neatherton to leave, then he turned back to Maggie. “Well, I’m glad to know Violet continues to improve.”

  “Yes, we’re grateful.” She pressed her lips together, debating her next words. Should she invite him to stop by the shop after he finished seeing Mr. Neatherton? He had no reason to visit now. He had business to attend to and an estate to run…but would he come if she asked him to?

  He glanced around, then back at Maggie. “I suppose I should be going.” But he didn’t step away.

  She swallowed, wishing he would say he would see her later, but he didn’t.

  Violet hopped forward on her crutches. “Are we going in?”

  “Yes, of course.” Maggie started toward the door.
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  “Let me get that for you.” Nate stepped past her and pulled it open. He looked at Violet. “Be sure to check your speed and guard that cast.”

  She grinned and nodded. “I will.”

  He turned to Maggie and touched his hat brim. “Take care, Maggie.”

  “Thank you. I will.” She nodded to him as she walked past.

  Goodness. She sounded almost breathless. That would never do. The ties of friendship they’d shared in the past no longer held them together. Nate had inherited a fortune and with it entry into the best society had to offer. Why would he ever want to continue his friendship with her?

  Nate ran his hand over the supple leather of the tall brown boots on the counter at Neatherton’s shop. “These are very fine. I’d like a pair just like them.”

  “It will take me a few days to craft boots as fine as those, but they’re a good choice.” Mr. Neatherton motioned toward the back of the shop. “Come with me, and I’ll measure your foot.”

  Nate followed him behind the counter.

  “Stand right here.” Neatherton pointed to a piece of paper he’d placed on the floor, then he knelt beside Nate, grunted, and looked up at him.

  Nate removed his shoes and stood in place while the man drew around his right foot with a charcoal pencil. “Not many still do it this way, but I say if you want to be sure you have the proper fit, then you trace both feet each time you make a pair of boots. A man’s foot can change from year to year.”

  “It sounds like an excellent method.” Nate watched the man draw around his left foot.

  Neatherton slowly rose, and Nate was sure he heard the man’s bones creak. “Now let me check a few more things.” He pulled a tape measure from his trousers pocket and motioned toward a wooden chair. “Have a seat, sir.”

  Nate obliged and watched the man measure across the top of his foot, then write the numbers on a small pad of paper.

  “It must be good to have your son working with you.” Nate glanced around the shop. “I thought he might be here today.”

  Mr. Neatherton jotted down another number. “He’s gone to the station to pick up a shipment coming in from London. We only buy the finest materials for our shoes and boots.”

  “Ah, I see.” Ever since he’d met the younger Neatherton, he’d been curious to know a bit more about him and his connection with Maggie. “He must be a great help to you.”

  Mr. Neatherton nodded but continued making notes.

  “I met him when I was next door at Mrs. Hayes’s millinery shop.”

  “Yes, he keeps a good eye on them and helps out whenever he can. It’s not easy for them, being on their own like they are without a man to watch over them. And he and Maggie—”

  Nate’s breath caught. “He and Maggie…?”

  Neatherton cleared his throat and waved his words away. “You’ve not heard it from me. That’s my son’s business, not mine.”

  The bell over the shop door rang, and both men looked that way.

  Reverend Avery Samuelson walked in the door. “Hello, Mr. Neatherton.” He nodded to Nate. “Mr. Harcourt, it’s good to see you again.”

  Nate smiled. “I’m just being fitted for a new pair of boots.”

  “Then you’ve come to the right place,” Samuelson added. “I don’t want to interrupt. Please, finish with Mr. Harcourt.”

  “I believe we are finished.” Nate glanced at Neatherton.

  “That’s right. I have what I need. I’ll set to work on these right away. Check with me next Friday. They should be ready by then.”

  “Very good. Thank you.” Nate started toward the door.

  “Mr. Harcourt. Would you mind waiting a moment? I’d like to speak to you.”

  “Of course.” Nate stood by the door and waited while Samuelson paid Neatherton and picked up a pair of shoes that had been resoled.

  Samuelson led the way outside, and Nate followed. “Would you have time to take a meal with me, perhaps at the Red Lion?”

  Nate glanced toward Maggie’s shop. He had hoped he might see her again today, but the front door was closed and no one was about. He let go of that hope and turned back to Samuelson. “Thank you for the invitation. I’d be glad to join you.”

  “Good. That will give us time to talk.”

  They set off down the street and a few minutes later entered the Red Lion. The proprietor greeted them and took their orders. Nate scanned the room, searching for an open table.

  “There’s one at the back.” Samuelson nodded toward the far corner, and they passed through the main room to the open table.

  When they were seated, Samuelson turned to Nate. “I’m not sure how much time you have, so I’ll get right to the point. I’m concerned about the situation at Clifton Engineering.”

  “Why is that?”

  “In the last few months, since your father became ill, tensions have increased.”

  Nate shifted in his chair. “Go on.”

  “A few of the wives whose husbands work there have spoken to me. I think there may be trouble brewing.”

  Nate frowned. “What kind of trouble?”

  “There is a long-standing conflict between the management and the workers, and from what I’ve heard, ill feelings are building again.”

  “What are the issues?”

  “Wages, hours, and safety, the same kind of thing you hear workers all over the country speaking up about. The men work long hours, six days a week, and they haven’t had a raise in pay for almost three years.”

  Nate rubbed his chin. “I’ve only just begun to get my feet under me at Morningside. I haven’t looked into matters at Clifton yet. But I have my first meeting with the board of directors next week.”

  “So you are planning to step into your father’s role there?”

  Nate nodded. “I have inherited his half ownership in the company, and that should give me some say in how things are run. Unfortunately, I haven’t set foot in Clifton for more than five years, and I know very little about day-to-day operations. But I’ll look into these matters. I’m sure my father would want the workers treated fairly.”

  A smile broke across Samuelson’s face. “Thank you. I had a feeling I could count on you to help resolve matters peacefully.”

  Nate straightened. “Do you think there’s a threat of violence?”

  “I’m not sure. Some men are quite agitated. A few have mentioned the possibility of a strike if the issues are not addressed.”

  “A strike would have a negative impact on the entire community.”

  “Yes, but some feel that may be the only way to convince the management to listen.”

  “Surely matters are not that serious yet.”

  “There was an accident not long ago. One man was severely injured when his hand was crushed in one of the machines.”

  Nate’s stomach tensed. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “With the heavy equipment and long hours, it’s a wonder there aren’t more accidents. The men have been asking for more safety measures for quite a while, but those in charge have refused to make any changes.”

  “I see.” Nate’s gaze traveled around the room. Did any of these men or members of their families work at Clifton? They were a major employer in the area with almost sixteen hundred men on their payroll, that much he knew.

  The company had flourished for more than thirty years, building industrial cranes, drawbridges, and taking on other large engineering projects, but Nate knew very little about the relationship between the management and the workers.

  When he was younger and living at home, his father talked about the unrest among workers around the country and the rise of unions, but Nate didn’t realize they were dealing with those issues here in Heatherton. Were the workers at Clifton being treated unfairly? What would the other board members say about these matters?

  It was time he learned more about the inner workings at Clifton and found the answers to those questions for himself.

  Lilly accepted the bag of flour from one
of her neighbors in the village, Mrs. Edith Miller, and placed it in her basket. “Thank you. I know the Carters will be very grateful.”

  “I’m glad to help. We went through hard times when George was sick last year. We wouldn’t have made it without the help of our friends. You tell Rose I’m praying for her and her husband.”

  “I will.”

  Edith reached up and took a small jar from her kitchen shelf. “Let’s add these cherry preserves too. That will be a nice treat for them.”

  Lilly thanked her again and placed the preserves in the basket with the other food items she had collected from several friends. “I should be going. I want to drop these things off and pay them a short visit before I walk back to Morningside.”

  Edith’s brow creased. “How’s that young man of yours? I heard he’s working extra shifts at Clifton.”

  Lilly’s smile melted away. “Yes, ma’am. Rob is working hard, doing all he can for his family.”

  “That’s all the more reason for us to lend a hand.” Edith clicked her tongue. “He’s a fine young man. I’m sure his parents are proud of him.”

  “I believe they are.” Lilly bid Edith good-bye, tucked the basket over her arm, and set off down the village lane. Fewer than five minutes later, she knocked at the Carters’ front door, and Rob’s sister Jane answered.

  “Oh, Lilly, it’s so good to see you. Please come in.” Fourteen-year-old Jane was a bright-eyed blonde with a sprinkle of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Since Lilly had no sisters, she especially enjoyed spending time with Jane and her younger sister, MaryAnn.

  The scent of fresh-baked bread drifted past, making her empty stomach contract as she stepped inside. “Is your mother home?”

  Jane nodded. Her gaze dipped to the basket, then darted back to Lilly. “She’s upstairs with Father. I’ll let her know you’re here.” She turned and hurried up the stairs.

  Lilly glanced around the simple cottage. Bunches of herbs and a few onions hung from the low-beamed ceiling of the kitchen on the right. A small fire glowed in the kitchen fireplace, and six chairs stood around the plain wooden table. A pitcher filled with bluebells and tulips sat in the middle of the table on a lace doily. White linen curtains edged with lace hung at the kitchen window.