A chair scraped the floor. “Now, Mr. Bennington, you can’t possibly fault me for your man’s disappearance.”
More footsteps. The office door jerked open and Mr. Bennington strode out toward the front door with the mayor on his heels.
“Mr. Bennington—”
The slamming door reverberated throughout the office as Mayor Gilbert stood raking his hands over his face.
Nora bit her lip and pulled the telegram from her pocket.
CHAPTER 9
Nora lost count of the number of times she’d re-read Donovan’s short message. Mixed feelings churned through her as she watched her grandfather perch his spectacles on his nose and study the piece of yellow paper.
“What does it mean, Grandpa?” He looked at her over the top of his spectacles. “‘Pears to me like he’s comin’ back on tomorrow’s train.”
Impatience nipped her. “I understand that part. I wish I could warn him that Mr. Bennington is furious. He threatened Mayor Gilbert with taking his mill elsewhere. I’m afraid Donovan is going to catch the brunt of Mr. Bennington’s wrath the moment he sets foot back in Pine Ridge.”
“Hmm. Could be. But I think the young fella can withstand the storm.” A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of Grandpa’s mouth and wiggled his mustache.
Nora tipped her head. “Maybe. But what about the rest?” She ran her finger along the words. “It just says ‘Sufficient grace.’ Is it some kind of clue? That’s the part I don’t understand.”
Grandpa lowered the paper to his lap. “You should. Hand me my Bible.”
Nora did her grandfather’s bidding and sat while he turned pages. When he found the place he wanted, he adjusted his spectacles and fixed a gentle gaze on her.
“One day last week, Mr. McNeary paid me a visit while you was workin’, and we had us a nice chat. Said he’d had a meetin’ with God durin’ the night.” Grandpa stroked his beard and smiled.
“Well, he says to me he was strugglin’ with how to deal with that boss o’ his and all his demands. Said he wants to protect the burial ground…” Grandpa’s voice cracked, and he swallowed a time or two before continuing. “He knows how important the mill is to folks hereabouts, especially the farmers, but he wonders if it’s possible to do both—build the mill and still protect the burial ground.”
The prospect of the mill had the whole town excited, but if it meant stirring up the old resentment and bigotry or hurting Grandpa, she’d rather see Bennington carry out his threat and take his mill elsewhere. But her interest piqued at Grandpa’s revelation. “I didn’t know Donovan had come to visit you. Did he tell you where he was going?”
He gave her an apologetic smile. “Yes. But he asked me to keep it under my hat, in case he weren’t successful. The boy has a plan but doesn’t think his boss will agree. That’s why he asked me to pray.”
Nora’s heart skipped. “Donovan asked you to pray?”
“Mm-hmm.” Grandpa tapped the pages of his Bible. “And this here is what I read to him— ‘My grace is sufficient for thee; for My strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.’” He closed the Book. “Second Corinthians, chapter twelve, verse nine, Nora girl. You ’n’ me’s read it more’n a couple times.” He nodded his head slowly. “Him ’n’ me prayed for God’s strength and grace that’s all sufficient. I reckon God will do the rest.”
Hearing Donovan’s request for prayer made Nora’s spirit soar. Sufficient grace. There was nothing sweeter for which any of them could pray. She only wished he’d felt free to share his plan and his desire for God’s help with her. “So where did he go?”
Grandpa’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll let him tell you about that. Reckon the two of you will have some talkin’ to do when he gets here.”
Warmth stole into Nora’s cheeks, and she turned so Grandpa wouldn’t see her blush. “I’ll be praying for him when he has to meet with Mr. Bennington.” She pulled the shawl up around her grandfather’s shoulders. “Don’t you get chilled now.”
“Nora girl, I’m gettin’ on just fine. No fever, and even Doc was impressed with the way them hot towels helped my coughin’ an’ eased the pressure in my chest.” He wrapped his fingers around hers and drew them to his lips. “But you can’t fool your ol’ grandpa. I know what’s going through your head. You’re thinkin’ ’bout that young feller.” A chuckle rolled from his lips. “I never thought there’d be a man good enough for my Nora girl, but I reckon I was wrong. I ain’t too proud to admit it. Never seen you light up around a man the way you do when Donovan McNeary’s name is mentioned.”
Grandpa was right, like he always was. She slipped her arms around him and hugged his neck. “I love you, Grandpa.”
“An’ I love you, Nora girl.” His voice wavered. “I pray you can have the kind o’ love me ’n’ Eve did. Wish you coulda known her.”
Nora cupped both sides of her grandfather’s face, his scruffy beard tickling her fingers. “Grandpa, I know her. I met her through you. Through your stories and your memories. I’m so blessed to have grandparents like you.”
Th e sun had only been up an hour when Donovan tapped on the Courtlands’ door. Muffled voices and footsteps from inside soothed his angst. At least he hadn’t awakened Nora and her grandfather.
Th e door opened and Hosea Courtland peered out, his countenance breaking into a smile when his gaze locked with Donovan’s. “Come in, come in, young man. Nora girl, this feller looks like he could use a cup of coffee.”
“Donovan.” His name from Nora’s lips touched his ears with the softness of thistle down.
His searching eyes slid past Hosea’s shoulder and came to rest on her. Oh my, but she was lovely, standing there in the morning light. “G-good morning. Please forgive me for disturbing you so early.”
“Nonsense.” Hosea reached for his arm and tugged him in the door. The old man glanced at his granddaughter and back at Donovan. “Reckon the two of you have some talkin’ to do, so I’ll just mosey—”
Donovan caught Hosea’s elbow. “Please stay, sir. I have some information for both of you.” He sent Nora a look he hoped would convey his desire to speak privately with her at some point. But right now, they didn’t have much time.
Nora gifted him with a tremulous smile and poured him a cup of coffee. “Have you had breakfast?”
Donovan shook his head. “I didn’t want to risk running into Mr. Bennington until I had a chance to talk to you both.”
She set the coffee on the table and nudged the pot of cream and sugar bowl toward him before returning to the stove. He followed her with his eyes until Hosea cleared his throat.
Donovan pulled his gaze away and found Hosea grinning at him. Heat swelled in his face and he quickly took a gulp of coffee. “I, uh, I got in rather late last night, and it wasn’t appropriate to call at such an hour. But I do have news.”
Hosea sat across from him with his own coffee cup and arched one eyebrow.
Donovan glanced at Nora. “Your grandfather already knows part of this. I did some research into the tax records for the Weaver property and found the taxes were being paid from an attorney’s office in Williamsburg. I wired them and learned Ellis Weaver is living in Charlotte, North Carolina—a day’s train ride from here.
“When I met with him, he was most gracious. He had been contacted by his attorney in Williamsburg regarding Mr. Bennington’s offer. His attorney advised him to ignore it because the offered price was ridiculously low. He communicated with his sister, Elizabeth, who now lives in Roanoke. She deferred all negotiations to her brother.”
“Wait.” Nora set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Donovan. “There were two brothers, weren’t there?” She glanced at her grandfather, who nodded.
Donovan thanked her for the breakfast. “Ellis told me their brother James died in 1865. Their father passed away shortly after James did.”
He bowed his head briefly and gave silent tha
nks for his meal. When he raised his head, moisture winked in Nora’s eyes and she gave him an approving smile that grabbed his breath. He scooped a forkful of eggs. Between bites, he related his meeting with Ellis Weaver.
“Ellis will agree to sell for a reasonable price…” Donovan looked straight at Hosea. “But not the burial ground. He said his father taught him to respect that area. They weren’t even allowed to play there as children. We discussed a plot of land downstream from the burial ground. I looked at it, tested the depth of the water and force of the current. It could be done, but it will require hauling in rocks to create a dam and spillway.”
Hosea nodded like he knew the exact spot to which Donovan referred, but Nora frowned.
“Donovan, Mr. Bennington was spitting mad two days ago, and he threatened to take his mill project somewhere else.”
“I’ll handle Bennington.” Donovan took one last bite and wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Nora, I need your help. Can you organize a quick meeting of the mayor, the town businessmen, some local farmers, and anyone else who would be interested in the mill?”
“We can do that.” She glanced at Hosea. “When and where do want to hold this meeting?”
Donovan took a sip of coffee. “This morning, maybe around ten o’clock? I suppose we could have it at the courthouse since it will involve Mayor Gilbert. I know it’s short notice, but you know everyone in town. Do you think—”
“Consider it done. Ten o’clock.” She glanced toward the fireplace where a clock tick-tocked on the mantle. “I’d better get going if I want to catch all the regulars at Puckett’s Cafe.”
Donovan sucked in a deep breath and rapped on the door of Bennington’s room. “Come in! It’s about time you—” Bennington jerked open the door. The expression on his face went from annoyance to unbridled fury in the space of two seconds. “I thought you were that fool from downstairs. I told him to bring me coffee more than a half hour ago.” Bennington glared at him and cursed. “What are you doing here?”
Donovan folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not sure if I still have a job, but I do have some information I believe will interest you. Want to hear it?”
Bennington’s glower spewed venom, but Donovan had grown immune to his boss’s intimidation tactics. Moreover, he knew Bennington wouldn’t be so foolish as to pass up information if he thought he could use it to his advantage.
His boss grunted and stomped back into the room and planted himself in an overstuffed chair. “Well? I’m waiting.” Donovan stuck his thumbs in his pockets. He didn’t expect to retain his position anyway, so he had nothing to lose, but the people of Pine Ridge stood to lose a great deal if his effort failed. After a brief explanation of how he found Ellis Weaver, he described his meeting with the property owner.
Bennington sputtered. “Why didn’t you give me the correct address in the first place, you ignorant, incompetent—”
Interrupting the man didn’t scare him anymore. “I will remind you, Mr. Bennington, you were the one who got the contact information from Wilbur Dorsey at the land office. Now, if you’d like to hear the rest of what I learned during my visit with Mr. Weaver, I will invite you to a meeting with Mayor Gilbert and a number of community businessmen that’s due to take place in about an hour.”
His boss’s face reddened. He leapt to his feet and shook his fist. “Who do you think you are? You’re not in charge of this project. In fact, you’re fired!”
CHAPTER 10
Donovan stepped into the courthouse expecting to see a group of men waiting. Instead, the only person there was Nora. He leaned to see through the open door of the mayor’s office but the room was empty. His heart sank.
“Weren’t they interested? Didn’t anyone want to come?” The hopes he had riding on the proposed meeting dimmed.
Nora caught his hand. “Everyone wanted to come. That was the problem—there wasn’t enough room here, so Pastor Parkin suggested we use the church.”
The wave of disappointment evaporated and renewed energy surged through him. “Is everyone there now?”
“Nearly everyone in town, including some farmers who happened to be at the feed and seed. More are on their way.” Her brown eyes danced.
He wanted to grab her and plant a kiss on her lips, and although the idea was tempting, he restrained his desire. “That’s wonderful.” She was wonderful, but he’d address that later.
Her brow dipped. “What about Mr. Bennington?”
Donovan lifted his shoulders. “Oh, he fired me. But he’ll show up at the meeting. You can count on that.” He glanced around the office. “Can you write a sign and post it on the door? Say, ‘Community meeting to discuss new mill. 10:00 at the church.’”
“I’ll take care of it and meet you there.” Her smile bolstered his confi- dence.
He brushed his fingers across her cheek. For the space of a few heartbeats, their gazes locked before he rushed out the door. Heart singing, he jogged all the way to the church.
A dozen folks loitered in the churchyard. He recognized a few of them, and they greeted him with handshakes. Myron Snead from the newspaper pushed through the crowd. “Mr. McNeary, what’s this meeting all about?” He gestured around with the point of his pencil. “All these folks have been waitin’ to hear some kind of official announcement about the mill. Is that what this is?” He poised his pencil, ready to record whatever Donovan said.
“There are a few details I think the people of Pine Ridge need to know. That’s why I called the meeting.” Donovan swept his gaze around the churchyard. More folks arrived by wagon. “Let’s all go inside.”
The moment he stepped inside, Mayor Gilbert grabbed his arm, his eyes darting back and forth around the room. “Is Mr. Bennington coming?” The man wrung his hands and dragged his handkerchief across his forehead.
The pleading in the Gilbert’s voice poked at Donovan and he almost felt sorry for the mayor. “He’s not happy, but I’d bet my last dollar he’ll be here.”
Donovan made his way to the front and held up his hands. “Everyone please take a seat.”
Folks slid down the pews and scooted closer to make room for more, and a few stood along the back wall. As Donovan scanned the crowd, Nora slipped in the door. Doctor Guthrie rose and gave her his seat beside her grandfather.
He relished her reassuring smile. “Thank you all for coming. From the looks of this group, you all seem to be in favor of the mill being built here in Pine Ridge.”
A cacophony of applause, shouts, and whistles filled the church. Donovan waited for everyone to quiet down. “I’m grateful for your support, but there are a few things you should know.”
He sought out Hosea. The old man sat holding Nora’s hand, his eyes closed and his lips moving slightly. Donovan’s heart swelled with hope. Yes. Prayer was what they needed first. “Pastor Parkin, will you please open our meeting in prayer?”
A hush fell as the preacher rose and besought God for wisdom, truth, and sound judgment. At “Amen,” Pastor Parkin gave Donovan a nod. “The floor is yours, Mr. McNeary.”
Donovan licked his lips and swallowed. “As most of you already know, Mr. Asa Bennington has been working for the past couple of months to finalize the details so he can build a textile mill in this area. The proposed location is along the Conasauga River, on land currently owned by the Weaver family who lived here some years ago.
“At a recent meeting with Mr. Ellis Weaver, he told me that the plot of land Mr. Bennington has been trying to purchase is not for sale.” Donovan’s statement met with muffled groans. He held up his hand. “However, Mr. Weaver and I discussed another parcel, just a little ways downriver. It has good access, but will require some work to build a spillway to ensure consistent water power—”
The church door was flung open and Bennington stormed inside. “I don’t know what this man has told you people”—he stalked to the front and glared at Donovan—“but he is no longer in my employ and has no authority to speak at this meeting.”
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p; Donovan pressed his lips tightly together for a moment, willing God to take control of the situation. Bennington spun on his heel and faced the crowd. “You people know me. I’m here to bring commerce and opportunity to this backwoods, and I know you’ll all be happy as soon as I’ve completed negotiations with the Weaver family so we can get on with building this mill.”
A few of the farmers exchanged glances. “I don’t know him. Do you know him?”
“Heard about him but never met him.”
“Anybody here know this fella?”
“I know he just insulted us by callin’ us a backwoods community.”
Grumbles rolled through the crowd, and Myron Snead stood. “Mr. Bennington, it has come to our attention that the property where you wanted to build isn’t even for sale.”
Bennington’s face flushed red and the veins in his neck extended. The people in attendance continued to raise their voices.
Pastor Parkin took the platform. “Brothers and sisters, let’s all calm down.”
The muttering quieted, and Donovan spoke up. “Part of what Mr. Bennington said is true. I am no longer in his employ. But I feel you folks deserve to know what’s happening in your community.”
Pastor Parkin nodded. “So do I.”
Mayor Gilbert took a step forward. “I agree. Mr. McNeary is right. You all deserve to know, and he is the one with the answers.”
Bennington blustered. “Well, I’ll just go build my mill somewhere else.” Nora grimaced. As much as she didn’t want to see the burial ground desecrated, neither did she want to see the people of Pine Ridge disappointed if Bennington followed through with his threat. She held her breath and waited as Donovan turned to his former boss.
Destination: Romance: Five Inspirational Love Stories Spanning the Globe Page 11
