She stared at him as if weighing whether she should believe what he said. He forced himself to meet her steady look. Never letting her gaze waver, she pulled her young son close and wiped his runny nose with the corner of her apron. “I’m not sure I trust what yer sayin’, mister, but I know Miss Hope’s been busy makin’ a list of repairs that’s needed. She’s the preacher’s daughter. Might save ya some time to get back off the mountain and ask her for a look at what she’s already wrote down.”
Kirby nodded. “I believe you’ve got a good idea. I’ll go back to town and see if I can speak to . . .”
“Miss Hope.” She finished his sentence before he could decide if he should refer to Hope as Miss Irvine or Miss Hope. The woman pointed in the direction of the railroad yard. “You’ll likely find her at the chapel car. They’re parked on a spur close to the depot. Tell her Nora Selznick sent ya. She’ll know who I am.”
“Thank you for your help, Mrs. Selznick.” He probably should have mentioned that he’d already met Hope, but decided the less he said, the better.
She leaned down to retrieve the pan of green beans. Then, almost as an afterthought, she gestured to him. “If’n you’re genuine in what you done told me, you might want to talk to the preacher, too. Hope says her pa is mighty good with a hammer and nails.” She grunted. “Says he can paint, too. The good Lord knows these shacks could use some paint. Screens for the doors and windows would help keep the flies and skeeters outside where they belong. These young’uns get all bit up with skeeters.”
“Hadn’t thought about that, Mrs. Selznick. We’ll see what we can do.”
Kirby hurried off before the woman could ask for anything else. When he arrived back in town, he glanced up the hillside and wondered if Mrs. Selznick would mention that he’d spoken to her about possible repairs. Even more, he worried the woman would tell Hope that he acted as though he’d never met her. No doubt such a remark would give rise to suspicion. He raked his fingers through his hair. Should Hope question him, he’d need to have a believable response at the ready.
In the meantime, he’d continue to look for someone willing to act as his connection inside the mine. Someone who would tell him if a strike was imminent or unionization was on the horizon.
CHAPTER
8
Hope placed her fingers on the organ keys, ready to begin the evening meeting for the railroad workers. Unlike the earlier service, the pews weren’t completely full, but the railroaders who weren’t needed at work were in attendance. Her father had formed friendships with some of the men and was quick to inquire if a regular wasn’t present—a fact that pleased the railroaders. The miners, on the other hand, frowned upon being questioned. Queries into their lives or whereabouts were sidestepped and met with looks of suspicion.
When Hope asked Luke about the apprehensive behavior, she learned the miners didn’t like to be asked a lot of questions. “But why? What has happened to cause such distrust?”
He’d told her that wariness of outsiders was a feeling long held among the hill people, not just miners. They were clannish in nature, and outsiders were viewed as folks who wanted either to take advantage of or force change upon them. The hill people had experienced both types of intrusion in the past and now guarded against such happenings. “They keep to themselves and want others to do the same,” he said.
Fortunately, the children weren’t as secretive as their parents. The younger ones hadn’t yet learned to be cautious. While Hope didn’t take advantage of their trusting nature, she did want to learn ways she could help the struggling families. If a child who regularly attended was absent for more than a day or two, she would send a note home with another child, asking if there was sickness or if assistance was needed. At first her notes had been met with silence, but finally she’d developed a friendship of sorts when one of Nora Selznick’s children became ill. Though uninvited, Hope ventured up the hill with a kettle of chicken and noodles for the family. Initially, Nora refused the offering, but the children were so insistent that their mother finally relented.
Once she won the confidence of Mrs. Selznick, Hope began taking note of the repairs needed on the shoddy homes owned by the mining company. Rent for these homes was withheld from their wages, and those who couldn’t pay were evicted. Paying excessive rent and being forced to purchase their necessities from the company store had caused ongoing strife between the miners and the company, a situation that continued to create strikes and threats of unionization.
Though Hope had met Kirby Finch only a few hours ago, she’d already begun to anticipate he might prove to be different from his father. A man who wanted to do right by the folks living in this town—a man of his word.
Eager to see Kirby’s face, she scanned the group of men inside the railcar. Had she misplaced her hope in him? He said he’d attend the evening meeting with the railroaders, but he wasn’t among the attendees who’d taken their seats in the wooden pews. No doubt he’d never intended to accept her invitation and had forgotten his promise before they’d parted company.
Disappointment assailed her as she struck the chords of “Come Ye That Love the Lord.” They had sung the first stanza, the men’s deep, throaty voices raised in unison as they continued to the chorus: “‘We’re marching to Zion, beautiful, beautiful, Zion; we’re marching upward to Zion, the beautiful city of God.’”
Hope scanned the roomful of men and was unable to withhold her smile when Kirby entered the coach and took a seat near the door. He tipped his head in recognition, and she broadened her smile. As she returned her attention to the music, Hope caught sight of Luke, who now attended both the early and late-night meetings in order to learn as much as possible from her father’s preaching. Luke had followed her gaze to the rear of the car. For the rest of the meeting, his features remained creased in a frown.
After the benediction, her father stepped from the platform and moved to the center aisle to greet the railroaders. Luke remained seated on the front pew, his eyes fixed on some unknown object in the distance. Once her father had stepped farther down the aisle, Hope pushed away from the organ and made her way to Luke’s side. “You look gloomy. Was there something in the sermon that caused you discomfort?”
He shook his head. “No. Your father presented a good lesson in his sermon.” Luke shifted and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s that fellow in the last row.” He turned back toward Hope and lowered his head. “That’s Kirby Finch. His father owns the mine. Mr. Woodbine over at the general store pointed him out to me. I’m surprised to see him here. I hope he came for the right reasons.”
Hope sat down beside Luke. “I don’t know Mr. Finch very well, but if he needs to change his life, this is the place where he can find help. This is where he should be.”
“That’s true enough.” He hesitated before adding, “Exactly how well do you know him? I didn’t know you’d ever met him.”
He sounded a bit like a jealous schoolboy. “We only just met earlier today when I was coming down the hill after visiting with Celia Fisher’s mother.”
“Nellie never mentioned seeing any strangers today. I thought she was walking the hill with you today. Did she forget to meet you?”
“No, we walked up together, but she was busy helping your mother when I was ready to return home. Besides, I didn’t think I needed her to accompany me on my way back to town. You’re the one who told me strangers didn’t have a problem if they were going down the hill.”
“That’s usually true, but . . .”
Hope held up her hand to stay him. She didn’t want Luke to think she had anything to hide. In as few words as possible, she described the events that had culminated in her recent meeting with Kirby. “So you see, I don’t know him very well, but I did invite him to attend the meeting this evening.” She glanced toward the rear pew. “You might be interested to know that he rejected my invitation to attend the earlier meeting because he didn’t want to create discomfort among the miners and their families.” When Lu
ke said nothing, she sighed. “I believe it was a thoughtful gesture.”
“That’s because you don’t know how men like the Finches think and act. They’re like a robin in springtime. They sing a pretty song, but it’s always the same tune. You can’t trust a word that comes from Mr. Finch, his son, or any of his other men who get paid to keep us under their thumbs.” He leaned back against the pew. “I know my words are harsh, but you haven’t lived through years in mining camps and seen how the families suffer while the owners become rich and tightfisted.”
Hope flinched at his encompassing statement. Since her arrival in Finch, she’d come to know Luke as a man of deep faith, a compassionate man, a man who desired to serve God. Yet he was now willing to lump a group of men together because of their positions with the mining company—without genuine knowledge of their personal beliefs. Even though she’d seen for herself how the miners and their families had been treated through the years, it seemed unfair to judge the entire group of managers as if they were one. Then again, perhaps Luke knew all of them more intimately than she’d thought.
She folded her arms across her waist. “How well do you know Kirby Finch?”
“Not well at all, but you know what they say, like father, like son. I don’t think Kirby Finch plans to do things any different from what his pa has done.”
“I’ll have you know that he’s already planning improvements up on the hill.” She looked again in Kirby’s direction and hoped he wouldn’t leave before she could thank him for keeping his word. She silently willed him to remain in place and was pleased to see her father extend his hand and engage Kirby in conversation.
Luke squared his shoulders. “What kind of improvements?” His tone bore a note of disdain that inexplicably heightened her resolve to defend Kirby.
“Repair and paint the houses owned by the company, and I’m sure he’ll agree to do even more once he’s been here long enough to learn exactly what’s needed.” She leaned toward him. “Please come and make him feel welcome to attend our meetings.”
He stared at her for a long minute before finally pushing to his feet. “I want to believe he’s going to do what he says. I’ll do my best to welcome him, but don’t expect too much.” He looked down at her. “You don’t understand how things work in these parts. If I take up with a company man, the other miners are going to look at me sideways. They won’t trust me or my family and will shun all of us. I can’t let that happen.”
When he gestured toward the aisle, she took his cue and led him to where her father now stood talking to Kirby. Upon their approach, her father beamed at Luke and waved them onward. “Luke, I don’t know if you’ve met Kirby Finch. He tells me he’s going to be acting as his father’s representative at the mine, and he’s interested in gathering ideas from the miners and their families on what’s needed to improve conditions, but he believes he’ll need someone to act as a connection until he’s viewed as trustworthy by the miners. I told him you’d be an excellent choice to work with him.” Her father turned to Kirby. “This is the fellow I’ve been telling you about. Luke Hughes, meet Kirby Finch.”
Instead of looking at Kirby, Luke kept his eyes on the preacher. “I know who he is, Preacher. Mr. Woodbine pointed him out the day he arrived.”
“But we’ve never formally met.” With his hand extended, Kirby leaned toward Luke. “I’m pleased to meet you, Luke.”
For a moment, Hope wondered if Luke was going to accept Kirby’s hand. A small sigh escaped her lips when Luke reached out, briefly shook Kirby’s hand, and gave him a slight nod. “Mr. Finch.”
“Ah, now, Mr. Finch would be my father, Luke. You should call me Kirby.”
“That’s kind of you, but I don’t think it would be fitting, Mr. Finch.” Luke eyed the door leading to the platform with obvious longing. If he hadn’t been pinned between her father and her, Hope was sure he would have bolted and run like a spooked horse. “Besides, I don’t know that there’s much I can do to help you. Feelings run deep around these parts. Best you try to build trust with the men on your own.”
Hope gave a little tug on Luke’s sleeve. “I’m sure you could do something to ease hard feelings a bit, especially since Kirby is already planning to paint and repair the miners’ houses.”
“That’s not exactly what I said, Hope.” Kirby gave a tight smile. “I first need to check the books and make certain there are sufficient funds for the project.” He turned to Luke. “I do plan to do everything in my power to better the living conditions for all our employees, and as soon as possible.”
Luke gave her a look that said I told you so before he spoke. “We’ve heard all those promises for years, Mr. Finch. Until you’re ready to put action behind your words, you’ll make no inroads with your workers.”
Kirby arched his brows. “I hope that doesn’t include you, Luke. With both Miss Irvine and her father speaking so highly of you, I’d like to think you’d at least give me a chance to make a difference here.”
“Of course he will.” She flashed Luke a smile that she hoped would melt his resolve. “Won’t you, Luke?”
“I’ll give it some thought, but I’m not makin’ any promises.” He tapped the preacher on the arm. “If you’ll let me by, I need to be on my way home. It’s late and I’m sure you and Hope want to get some rest, too.”
Kirby nodded his agreement. “I didn’t think about the time. We all need to get to bed.”
Her father stepped aside, and Luke hurried toward the door, with Kirby close on his heels.
Hope’s shoulders sagged as both men departed. She had hoped for a few minutes alone with Kirby. She’d quickly assessed him as an insistent fellow, but if he was going to gain Luke’s help, Kirby needed to give Luke what he asked for—a little time to think.
As he was stepping from the rear platform of the car, Kirby stumbled forward and caught Luke by the arm. “Sorry, Luke. I lost my footing and couldn’t regain my balance.”
Kirby immediately released his hold when Luke looked down at Kirby’s hand on him. Kirby forced a smile. “How is it you attend the late meeting? Hope told me the miners and their families attend the first meeting, so I waited. Didn’t want to be the cause of any problems.”
“The preacher holds only one meeting except when the railroaders are in Finch or there’s something special going on. When he holds two meetings, I try to attend both. I feel the Lord is leading me to become a preacher.”
Kirby looked surprised. “That so? Well, I hope there’s no hard feelings between us. I’d really like to spend some time with you and get a better idea how to improve things around here.”
A faint light glowed from inside the railroad roundhouse. The pale light slanted across Luke’s face and revealed suspicion in his eyes. It was going to be difficult to win him over, but Kirby had acquired the art of persuasion a long time ago. Throughout his childhood, he’d gained a variety of techniques by observing his father, who’d become a master at swaying the opinions of others. In time, he’d become even more masterful. At least until this latest debacle, when nothing he’d said or done would deter his father from sending him to this dreadful town.
The suspicion in Luke’s eyes diminished ever so slightly. “I said I’d think about it, and I will. But you need to remember what I told you. If you set to work getting some repairs done to the houses, it might ease hard feelings a little. And if you take my advice, don’t follow your good deed by raising the rent. If you do, any good you accomplish with a coat of paint will be lost—probably tenfold.”
Luke turned to leave, and Kirby took a step toward him. “When can I expect to meet with you again?”
The young miner gave a shake of his head. “Maybe right after you’ve finished some projects up there.” Luke gestured toward the hill. “I gotta go.”
Kirby expelled a long breath. For most of his life, being a member of the Finch family had been advantageous. Now, in this town that bore his family’s name, he’d been confronted with a new reality. A reality that
was going to be difficult to overcome. How could he find an expeditious way to gather information that would prevent a strike and unionization of the miners if he couldn’t make inroads with at least a few of the men who worked for the company? He strode toward the boardinghouse where he’d spend another night in the rented room decorated with floral wallpaper and oversized, marred furniture. How had his life regressed so far in such a short time? He’d believed his indifference to the company business and his roguish behavior would be tolerated by his father for at least another few years. He’d been terribly mistaken. Now he must find a way out of this situation. And find one, he would.
First, he’d step up his efforts to gain Hope’s friendship. While Luke might eventually prove helpful, who could say how long he might take to arrive at a decision? He’d given no indication if it would be one day or ten, but he was now certain Hope could be useful.
Luke trudged up the hill with the evening’s events weighing heavily on his mind. He’d been harsh and quick to judge Kirby and his intentions. Truth be told, Luke still thought the man nothing more than a lot of bluster, yet he should have reflected Christ’s love rather than behaving like a spoiled child. Help me, Lord. You know my pain runs deep. He swallowed hard, remembering the day his father’s broken body had been pulled from deep within the mineshaft after an explosion. Even the passage of time hadn’t healed all the wounds his death had inflicted upon their family. Luke wasn’t certain what they would have done without Uncle Frank’s continuing commitment to them. He was an answer to Luke’s prayers.
Unfortunately, Luke had observed little change in attitudes or management of the mine since his father’s death. Over and over they had heard promises of improvement in the mines, of better pay and living conditions, but none of those promises came to fruition. Using the company store and low wages, the owners continued to hold the workers in a viselike grip. Luke wanted to believe Kirby’s words held a kernel of truth, but years of broken promises did little to advance thoughts of trust or forgiveness for anyone who represented the company.
The Chapel Car Bride Page 9
