The Chapel Car Bride

by Judith Miller

  Nellie nodded, and the two young women watched him lope off. “I’m surprised he’s letting me take you to meet Mrs. Fisher.” She lowered her head close to Hope’s ear. “You’re all he talks about, you know. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you.”

  Hope couldn’t withhold a smile. The words warmed her heart, even if she was certain Nellie was prone to exaggeration. “I’m fond of you and Luke, too.”

  Nellie giggled. “I have a feeling you’d rather be with him than me, but you don’t need to say so. I know you wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings.” She reached down, grabbed Hope’s hand, and swung it as though they were schoolgirls. “Come on, we’d better get a move on or Mrs. Fisher will think we’re not coming.”

  As she expected, Mr. Fisher wasn’t at home when they arrived, but Mrs. Fisher greeted them with a work-worn smile. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and strands of hair sailed free from the loose knot pinned at her nape. Weariness oozed from the woman. “Come on in and sit a spell. Can’t offer you anything more than a cup of weak coffee, but . . .”

  Hope stayed the woman with a shake of her head. “Thank you, Mrs. Fisher, but there’s no need for refreshments.” She waited until the older woman gestured to the straight-back chairs that surrounded a marred metal table.

  “I’m gonna go on home. Ma said she needed some help hanging out the wash.” Nellie looked at Hope. “Come get me when you’re done and I’ll walk ya back to town.”

  “There’s no need for an escort, Nellie.” While Hope appreciated the girl’s offer, any real threat to strangers arose only if they attempted to gain entrance into the hillside community without an escort or proper invite. The miners and their families had no problem with the departure of outsiders. Truth be told, they often encouraged it with a strong warning and a shotgun. Hope was touched by Nellie’s concern, yet there was no need to keep the girl from her chores.

  The flimsy door clacked shut, and Hope turned her attention to the older woman. “Celia is a delightful child, Mrs. Fisher. I’m sure you’re very proud of her.”

  The woman wilted. “I worry ’bout Celia. She cries a lot, says the other kids make fun of her ’cause she ain’t learnt to read real good. Trouble is, I can’t help ’cause I got the same problem myself.” The woman pressed her hands together. “I was thinkin’ maybe you could help her. The teacher at the school says she don’t have time for special teachin’, and I can tell Celia likes you a lot. She talks ’bout you all the time.”

  Hope leaned forward and grasped Mrs. Fisher’s callused hands in her own. “I would be pleased to help Celia with her reading, but we’d need to decide on a time when I could meet with her. Would you want me to come here?”

  Mrs. Fisher’s brow puckered. “Only if her pa ain’t here. He don’t take to having strangers around. If’n you could come ’bout this time a few days a week, he’ll be at work. Think you could do that?”

  After they’d talked a little longer and completed their plans, Hope bid the woman good-bye. Instead of stopping for Nellie, she headed off toward the path leading down the hill with a lightness in her heart. Maybe this would be the first step toward acceptance among the miners and their families.

  When she neared the base of the steep path, she stopped at the sound of rustling underbrush. The noise ceased, and she inhaled a fortifying breath. Probably a small animal scurrying through the woods that bordered the trail. She took a tentative step.

  “Who might you be?”

  The booming voice cracked behind her. Heart thumping, Hope gasped, turned on her heel, and backed against a tree.

  CHAPTER

  7

  Kirby Finch settled his gaze on the young woman who’d pinned herself against a large oak. She stared at him like a wide-eyed, frightened rabbit caught in a snare. He didn’t close the short distance between them for fear of causing her further alarm. He smiled and said, “Let me offer my deep apologies for frightening you. I am so sorry.”

  The moment he uttered the words, the look in her eyes changed from fear to anger. She waited what seemed an eternity, then gave him the slightest of nods. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a person like that.”

  “Again, I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to frighten you. The truth is, I was as surprised to see a lovely young lady on this path as you were to hear me call out to you. I’m Kirby Finch. My father owns the mine. I was on my way up the hill to check on damage to a few of the vacant houses the company owns.”

  “And repair them?” She glanced toward his empty hands.

  He chuckled. “No. I don’t count house repair among my skills. Maintenance needs are performed by our employees.”

  “Or not,” she said.

  Her tone bore a hint of contempt that captured his attention. The sun slanted across her face, and he tilted his head to gain a better look at her eyes. “Excuse me? Did you say ‘or not’?”

  “I did.” She gave a firm nod. “I’ve been told your company owns all the housing where the miners and their families live. If that’s the case, you should be ashamed. Those houses were shoddily constructed, and it doesn’t appear your company has done anything to maintain them since they were first built.” She shook her head. “And what about paint? Has your company ever considered the idea? Or furnishing the families with supplies so they can paint their houses?”

  Who was this impertinent young woman? Never before had any resident of Finch been so critical of the company or its owners—at least not to his knowledge. Then again, maybe things had changed since he was last in the town. “And you are?”

  “Hope Irvine. My father is the preacher assigned to the chapel car located near the depot. We’ve arrived to hold church meetings and help the residents of Finch wherever needed.”

  He shouldn’t egg her on, but he couldn’t stop himself. With a quick movement, he gestured toward the upper portion of the hill. “Since you’ve come to assist wherever needed, I assume you were up there helping folks paint and tidy their houses.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she planted her feet in the soft dirt. “I was not helping with repairs, but both my father and I would be happy to do so if your company will supply the materials. My father is an excellent carpenter and I know he would welcome the opportunity.”

  “And you, Miss Irvine? Are you an excellent carpenter, as well?” He grinned at her. Perhaps living in Finch for a while wasn’t going to prove as bad as he’d anticipated. This young lady might prove to be a much-needed diversion. After all, he did like his women a bit feisty. And a preacher’s daughter might prove a real challenge. And he did love a challenge. At least where women and good times were concerned.

  “No. I’m here to lead classes for the children during my father’s church services, play the organ, and direct the singing.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve just—”

  “Let me finish, Mr. Finch.” She waved him to silence. “Although I’ve come here to lead Bible school classes, I would be more than willing to learn any skills that might help provide the miners and their families with a better life.” She stared at him with unwavering candor. “Can you say the same?”

  “That’s very admirable, Miss Irvine. After assessing the needs and available funds, the management may take you up on your offer of free labor.” He inhaled a deep breath, prepared for her to interrupt him once again, but her lips remained clamped together. “As I was going to tell you earlier, I’ve just arrived in Finch. Though I’ve been at the mine for various visits, the last time I climbed this hill was when I was a boy of eleven or twelve.” He sighed. “This time I’ll be in Finch for more than a visit.” He dropped his voice to a mere whisper before he added, “If my father has his way.”

  She pursed her lips. He was certain she was weighing his every word, and right now it didn’t appear as if he’d won her confidence. Still, he’d do his best to win her over. She might prove useful as well as entertaining. Yet lovely as she was, he continued to hold out hope his father would relent and permit a return to Pittsburgh.r />
  Hope arched her narrow brows. “So rather than a hired manager, your father has sent you to be his personal representative in Finch?”

  “I suppose you could call me a company representative, since Mr. Daniels has been the local manager for many years. My father and I didn’t discuss an actual title for the position.” Rather than a title for his new job, Kirby’s time had been consumed in attempts to change his father’s mind. He’d failed. Judging from Miss Irvine’s desire to help the residents of Finch, he doubted such a confession would sit well with her. “I’ll be helping wherever needed.”

  “I’m pleased you’ve decided to take stock of the homes your company rents to the miners.” She perched her hands on her hips. “I suppose you know that they’re forced to live in company housing.” She inhaled a quick breath. “That being the case, I do think the company should perform proper maintenance. Don’t you agree?”

  He needed to sidestep her question. Even if he committed to the obligation, his father would overrule any decision to spend money on the miners or their housing. “How long have you and your father been in Finch, Miss Irvine?”

  “Just over two months. I’ve been saddened by the deplorable conditions the miners must endure, Mr. Finch. I truly hope you plan to lend as much help as possible. Beyond the poor housing, they go further and further into debt each day and are forced to remain in the company’s employ because they can’t pay their obligation at the company store.”

  “I’ll look into the complaints, Miss Irvine.” He did his best to appear concerned. “I’m doing what I can to learn more about the mining operation, but it will take some time. This is a new job for me, so I hope you’ll be patient.”

  He didn’t mention that while working in Pittsburgh, he’d been appointed vice-president of the mining operation but had completely ignored the business. If Miss Irvine learned of his lackadaisical attitude, he wouldn’t succeed in winning her favor. Had he given Finch Mining and Company the attention it deserved back then, he would still be living in Pittsburgh. But instead of attending to business, he’d enjoyed himself at the gaming tables and late-night parties. Now he was paying the price for his indulgent behavior.

  His father, determined to mold Kirby into a powerful leader of the company, had been merciless when Kirby begged for one more chance to assume his duties in Pittsburgh. His father’s refusal had been swift and harsh.

  “You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic about your new assignment, Mr. Finch.”

  Her comment brought him back to the present, and he pulled a wry smile. “Adjusting to life in Finch is going to be difficult after living in Pittsburgh.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose it depends upon the person. Frankly, I was pleased to leave Pittsburgh.”

  “You lived in Pittsburgh? When was that, Miss Irvine?”

  “Prior to our arrival in Finch.” She hesitated a moment. “My circumstances changed in Pittsburgh, and I was able to persuade my father to let me come with him. We made a few stops along the way, but I’m pleased we’re going to be remaining in Finch for a time. There’s a need for a preacher here. And a church building. We’ve learned that a fire destroyed the church a while back, but you probably knew that.”

  He didn’t know about either the church or the fire, but she looked at him as though she expected some kind of response. “Fires are a terrible thing. Sad, very sad.” He shook his head.

  “Indeed.” She tipped the brim of her hat to block the sun. “I’m hoping we’ll be able to host some fund-raisers to help rebuild the church. My father is seeking financial assistance from the association headquarters, but it would be a fine gesture if the mining company donated funds toward such a cause, don’t you think?”

  Kirby swatted at a pesky fly that whirred near his slick-backed brown hair. Miss Irvine’s requests were as persistent as the insect that had been buzzing near his left ear. First she wanted the houses painted and repaired, and now she hoped to secure donations for a new church. He grinned at the thought. Miss Irvine was charming and downright pretty, and he didn’t want to do anything that might offend her. Enjoying her company would likely be the only thing that would make life bearable in this one-horse town.

  “You’ll need to give me some time to see what I can do, Miss Irvine. I haven’t yet had the opportunity to go through the books and check our resources. I do know the mine hasn’t been doing as well as projected over the past year.” He extended his arm to her. “Let me escort you back to town. The path is steep, and I wouldn’t want you to take a tumble. While we walk, I’d like to hear more about your life in Pittsburgh.”

  She lightly grasped his arm. “I’ll accept your invitation if you’ll accept mine.”

  A rush of anticipation coursed through him as he patted her hand. Perhaps this young lady was more worldly than he first thought. “I’d be delighted to escort you anywhere, Miss Irvine.”

  The hint of a smile played at her lips. “I won’t need you to escort me. I’m extending an invitation to attend our church meeting at the chapel car this evening.”

  The request caught him off guard. He hesitated as he pictured himself sitting in a church service next to the men who worked in the mines. Discomfort assailed him. He’d need to frame an answer that would let him avoid the church service but keep the door open to further contact with Miss Irvine.

  He cleared his throat. “While I would very much like to attend, I believe my appearance would cause discomfort for the miners and their families. I’m sure you’ve already learned that there’s some hostility between the workers and management.”

  “Perhaps you can help overcome those issues, Mr. Finch.”

  Her enthusiasm was infectious, but rather than close the divide, his attendance would likely expand the chasm. He shrugged. “We’ll see. For now, I think it’s best I stay away from your meetings.”

  She clapped her hands together. “I know! You can attend the late-night service we hold for the railroad workers. There’s a train due in late this evening, and my father always holds a late meeting for the railroaders. It’s well attended, but none of the families from up the hill ever come to that meeting.”

  If he was going to stand a chance with Miss Irvine, he’d need to do more than reveal a bit of gentlemanly comportment. Even if he had the money to purchase gifts, he doubted Miss Irvine would be impressed with such offerings. No, if he was going to impress her, he’d need to accept her invitation. That thought pained him. He had hoped for something more intimate than attending a church service, but he’d go—at least this one time. “Thank you for the invitation, attending with the railroad workers will be perfect.”

  As they continued to pick their way down the hill, he quizzed her about life in Pittsburgh: where she liked to shop, the names of acquaintances, and functions where they might have met. He soon discovered they had little in common. That revelation might have mattered back in Pittsburgh, but in Finch there was no need to concern himself with social standing. The only things that required concern were the happenings at the mine.

  After bidding Miss Irvine good-bye, Kirby trudged back to the hillside. He didn’t relish the idea of sniffing out recent threats of a strike at the mine or weeding out the possibilities of a union movement. He would need help, and the most likely source would be a desperate miner in need of immediate cash or credit at the company store to feed his family.

  Before approaching the first house along the hill, Kirby removed a handkerchief from his pocket and swiped the perspiration from his forehead. Three small children played in the dirt outside the ramshackle house. A weary, worn woman in a cotton print housedress sat on the porch snapping green beans. When she caught sight of Kirby, she pulled her sweater tight around her neck and watched his every move.

  The moment Kirby called out a greeting, the children scrambled to the porch and circled around the woman, clinging to her arms with dirty fingers. Her face registered unwavering suspicion, and a hint of fear.

  She wrapped an arm around the smalles
t of the scruffy children. “Who are ya, mister, and what you doing up here?”

  “Kirby Finch. Your husband around?” He hadn’t met any of the miners’ families on his limited visits to the town, but Kirby had heard his father and some of the managers discuss life “on the mountain.” He’d heard enough to know he shouldn’t approach the womenfolk when their husbands weren’t around.

  “You must be kin to the mine owner.” As she spoke, her gaze traveled the length of his body. Both her look and tone bore undeniable contempt. She didn’t wait for an answer. “He ain’t around right now. Don’t know when he’ll be back. He’s off lookin’ for work ever since you cut his hours.” Her lip curled. “Again!”

  Kirby flinched and took a backward step. “I had nothing to do with his hours, ma’am. I just arrived in town a couple days ago, but I’m planning to do what I can to help.”

  She lifted the pan of green beans from her lap and shoved it beneath the decrepit chair and grunted. “We done heard them promises afore. ’Specially when there’s threats of a strike. You come to find out for yerself? I’m thinkin’ you’re afeared the men are gonna strike.”

  Kirby blew a long breath. This woman might not look like much, but she was shrewd. Coming up here to find a miner who would be his eyes and ears among the other workers was foolish. Unless he could say or do something to quell rumors, his appearance would likely affirm the miners’ belief that the company feared another strike.

  He finally gathered his wits and shot a broad smile in the woman’s direction. “No, nothing like that. I heard that some of the houses up here were in need of repair. I was going to take a look around for myself, see what needs to be done and report back to the managers.”