A Life Worth Living

by Irene Brand

  Dora saw a figure coming toward them, and supposing it was a workman, she was surprised to see a young woman sweeping the floor.

  “Kitty,” Allen called. “We have company. Miss Porter is visiting in the area, and I brought her to see the mill. We can wait outside until you’re finished.”

  “Ain’t no need of that, Mister Allen. I’m almost through. Come on in.”

  The girl was of slight build, and Dora noticed that she walked with a limp as she approached them. “Miss Porter, this is Kitty Franklin. Her mother is one of the mill employees. Her father died last year, and Kitty does odd jobs around the plant to help support the family.”

  A sense of frustration mixed with compassion swept through Dora’s heart. Most of her life she’d heard the statement “life’s other side.” Allen had used it that very day. She believed she had seen the depth of that “other side” in the past few days, but this child’s injury, her poor grammar, and her ragged garments reached a portion of Dora’s heart that had never been stirred. Looking beyond the girl’s disability, she realized that Kitty was really a beautiful girl. Was it conceivable that if she managed the mill she could make this girl’s life happier? No doubt there were many such cases in these mountains where she could make a difference in the lives of those who weren’t as fortunate as she’d been all of her life.

  Unaccustomed to such feelings of frustration, she wished momentarily that she’d never met Allen Bolden or had ever come to North Carolina. As long as she had stayed at Biltmore, her lifestyle didn’t differ from what she’d always known. Her association with Allen, however, had introduced her to a segment of society that she didn’t even know existed. Why had she ever made this trip to North Carolina? Her peace of mind had been disrupted, and for the first time she was dissatisfied with her own way of living.

  “What’s wrong with her leg?” she asked Allen after the girl left the building.

  “As I understand, she broke her leg when she was three or four years old, and there wasn’t any doctor available to take care of it.”

  “You mean there isn’t a company doctor to minister to the workers in this mill or to their families?”

  He shook his head. “There are doctors in Asheville, but most of our local residents doctor themselves. They can’t afford to pay for health care. As for Kitty, it’s not as bad as it sounds. For one thing, they didn’t live here when the accident happened. Her parents moved from another village southeast of here. There’s a doctor in Fairfield, as well as doctors in Asheville, who take care of the accidents that happen in the mill itself.”

  “Still, it seems harsh for the child to live like that.”

  “I agree. But some of these people have Calvinistic views—meaning that they believe whatever will be, will be, and they accept life as it is. They don’t believe in doctoring.”

  As they walked around the large building, Allen explained the purpose of each machine to Dora, which gave her an idea of the output of the workers. She asked a few questions, but what impressed her most was not the mill products as much as the poor lighting and the dirt and dust on the machinery as well as the floor. How miserable it would be to spend six days working in such squalor!

  They said good-bye to Kitty and left the building. “Any questions?” Allen asked as he took her arm and assisted her into the buggy.

  “Yes, but one you probably can’t answer. Why would my father be interested in buying a textile mill in North Carolina?”

  “To make money,” Allen said without hesitation. “The textile industry is one of the most lucrative businesses in the South now. The climate is perfect for growing cotton. There are hundreds of people, both men and women, who need employment and who will work long hours for low wages. It’s a potential gold mine for someone who has plenty of money to invest. At Vanderbilt’s request, I took your father on a tour of the village as well as the mill. He obviously knows a good deal when he sees it. There’s money to be made here, and he wants the Porters to make that money. I observed him at Biltmore and when he toured this plant. He knows a good thing when he sees it.”

  “I still don’t understand why he wants to give the mill to me. He’s not an old man—he manages his other business investments.”

  Allen unhitched the horses and climbed into the buggy beside her. “Are you his only child?”

  “Yes. My mother died giving birth to me. He’s lamented more than once that he wished I’d been a boy. I don’t know why he didn’t marry again and perhaps have a son.” She shrugged and continued. “But it’s a legend in our family that Porters only marry once. They marry for love, and it’s a lifetime commitment.”

  Smiling at her, Allen said, “Does that apply to women as well as men?”

  She favored him with an oblique glance. “I don’t know from personal experience. I’ve never been in love.”

  As they left the mill behind, Allen sensed a lift of his spirits as he recalled her words. “If you aren’t in any particular hurry, I’ll take the long drive back to Biltmore after we eat at Aunt Sallie’s.”

  “I’d like that! Since I’ll be leaving for New York soon. . .”

  He glanced quickly toward her. “Not to stay.”

  “If father carries through with his plans of giving the textile mill to me, I suppose I’ll have to come here occasionally. However, I think you’ve been hinting that being an absentee landlord isn’t a good thing.”

  “Now just a minute—don’t blame me for the decisions you have to make. I’ve just answered your questions, but you’ve admitted that you wouldn’t want to live here.”

  “That’s true, but I’ve got a stubborn streak—apparently inherited directly from Father because my mother’s relatives aren’t like that. I’d be willing to bet the reason he bought the mill in the first place was that he looked the situation over and decided a lot of money could be made. He’s determined that I must earn any inheritance I get from him, and if he makes me take this mill, I’m going to turn it into the most successful textile mill in the state of North Carolina without any help from him. The first thing I’d do is improve the working conditions. Father won’t like that, though, because that would eat up most of the profits.”

  “You can’t do that by living in New York.”

  “Can you actually envision me living in Fairfield?”

  Laughing, Allen said, “No, but I can’t envision you living in New York for that matter. An absentee landlord can’t give one hundred percent to his—or her, in your situation—work. In my opinion, that’s necessary for success in the few businesses I’ve seen operate. That’s the reason the former owner didn’t make a profit. He lived in South Carolina and only came here occasionally.”

  “I’ve never had any experience operating a business of any kind, so I’ll probably spend as much time here as I do in New York, at least until I learn what it requires to own and operate a textile mill. I’ve been discontented the last year or two, feeling that I wasn’t accomplishing anything, so perhaps a new challenge is what I need. I’m determined to make a success of this, if for no other reason than to prove my worth to Father. I can’t do it alone, but I believe the two of us working as a team can make this a good investment. I may even take you in as a partner. Are you interested in managing the mill?”

  He shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t unless I had absolute control, and I know you well enough already to realize that you’ll be determined to operate the business your own way. I don’t blame you for that—that would be my attitude. I’ve got a stubborn streak, too,” he said, and a determined expression spread across his face. “I’m not going to tie myself to any promises I don’t want to keep.”

  “Well, we’ve laid the cards on the table, so to speak. I know what to expect from you—you know what to expect from me.”

  He lifted the reins, and the eager horses took off at a trot as soon as they reached the narrow road heading north. Neat farmstea
ds lined the road, but the owners and their farmhands alike were loafing as they took advantage of their one day of rest. In a small community like this, no one was a stranger, so Allen waved to everyone.

  They rode for several miles without talking. Dora seemed satisfied to just look at the scenery, and he was pleased that she didn’t find it necessary to carry on a conversation all the time. Another reason he admired Dora. Being a quiet person himself, he was often frustrated when he was in the company of someone who talked constantly. He was thankful for the opportunity to spend as much time with her as he could. The fact that she was returning to New York in a little while distressed him. When she reached New York and resumed the company of her former friends, mill or no mill, would she ever return to North Carolina? Although Dora seemed convinced that her father would disinherit her if she refused to accept ownership of the mill or couldn’t operate it with a profit, Allen didn’t think that would happen. Mr. Porter was a shrewd man, and he would prod her to be successful.

  A sobering thought entered Allen’s mind. What if Mr. Porter’s next move was to coerce Dora into getting married to someone who was an expert in business management? As far as that was concerned, he couldn’t understand why Dora wasn’t already married, or at least engaged. He couldn’t believe the men in New York wouldn’t see what a wonderful woman she was. However, he was sure that Oliver Porter would be very selective in any man he would accept as a son-in-law.

  Allen wouldn’t ask her about any love affairs, of course, but it was difficult to believe that a woman as beautiful and personable as she was had not been married long before this. He realized that the best thing for him was to dismiss Dora and her problems from his mind, but that was easier said than done. Once she returned to New York, she would go out of his life, but that didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t take a fortune-teller for him to realize that he was getting too interested in a woman who was as far out of his reach as the moon and stars.

  four

  The horses needed very little guidance, so Allen relaxed and enjoyed the ride. They had the countryside to themselves until they met a boy plodding along the side of the road, carrying a sack over his shoulder. Allen lifted his hand in greeting as he always did. The lad looked up briefly, but didn’t return the greeting. Tightening the reins to slow the horses, Allen drove on a short distance before he halted the team.

  “Something wrong?” Dora inquired.

  “I don’t know,” Allen said slowly. He turned and looked at the young man they’d just met. “That boy reminded me of my father. In fact, from this angle, he still looks like my father. I remember that Pa often seemed that weary when he’d come home from work every day.”

  “I don’t know your father, of course, but the boy does seem to have a deliberate way of walking just as you do.”

  Allen glanced her way in surprise. She would have had to study him intently to know that! Was it possible that a woman like Dora Porter could actually be interested in him? That the attraction he held for her wasn’t just one-sided? Nah! he thought. Don’t flatter yourself! Determined to convince himself that her attitude toward him was the friendliness she showed everyone, he considered again why she would have any interest in him except a pleasant interlude in the country.

  Lifting the reins, Allen turned the team and headed back the way they’d come without commenting on her statement. When he drew up beside the walker, he stopped. The boy looked up, and Allen felt as if someone had sucker punched him. The boy resembled himself at that age.

  Quietly, Dora said, “He looks like you, Allen. Is he a relative?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.” Directing his attention to the boy, Allen asked, “Would you like a ride?”

  “Maybe,” the boy said, his dark brown eyes boring into Allen’s. “Where you goin’?”

  “Asheville. What’s your name?”

  The boy grinned slightly. “Timothy Bolden. What’s yours?”

  “Allen Bolden.”

  “Then you’re my brother. I’ve been lookin’ for you for months. I’d about given up.”

  Although it had been twenty years since Allen had left South Carolina, he didn’t doubt that the boy was his brother. He had several Bolden traits that Allen had also inherited—wide shoulders, a legacy from their maternal grandfather—as well as the thick dark hair and piercing brown eyes of their mother’s family.

  “I set out about six months ago to see if I could find you. I’m actually on my way to California, but I wanted to see you once more. I figure if I go as far as the Pacific, I’ll never come back this way again.”

  Allen handed the reins to Dora, vaulted out of the buggy, and grabbed his brother in a bear hug. A lump formed in his throat, and his eyes were misty. Although he had willingly severed ties with his family, at times he’d wondered about them, but not to the extent that he considered returning to South Carolina. He hadn’t seen a close relative since the day he left home, but now he realized that some corner of his heart had cherished memories of his childhood.

  “What about the family?”

  “Ma died and Pa married again, a widow with five younguns. Our other brothers and sisters are married. I’m the youngest, and I didn’t seem to fit in anywhere. I’d thought a lot about goin’ west, maybe as far as California, so when I turned eighteen, I started out. As I moved westward, I took a job here and there till I had a little money to move on. I worked in Canaan for a few weeks and somebody told me where you were livin’. I decided to find you if I could before I left this part of the country.” He glanced at Dora. “Is this your woman?”

  Allen shook his head and smiled in Dora’s direction. “She isn’t anybody’s ‘woman.’ She’s a very nice lady, though. Timothy, meet Miss Dora Porter.”

  Dora smiled, but she didn’t speak. Allen knew from the soft glow in her eyes that she’d been touched to see the reunion of the two brothers who’d been separated for years. No doubt she had often wished for siblings.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Timothy said as he took off his cap.

  Allen noticed that although Timothy’s clothes were well-worn, he was clean and smoothly shaved, so he didn’t think Dora would mind if he offered the boy a ride.

  “I live near the town of Fairfield, where Miss Porter is visiting from New York. We’re just out for a ride, so why don’t you go into town with us and maybe stay a few days. I live on a small farm, and I’ve got an extra bed.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Timothy said. “Now, mind, I’m not spongin’ off you. I’ve got some money.”

  He hoisted himself to the back of the buggy. Allen resumed his seat and took the reins from Dora.

  Allen had never missed the separation from his close relatives because Evelyn and Vance Bolden had treated him like family, always inviting him to holiday festivities at their home in Canaan. Furthermore, he had an open invitation to visit their home at anytime. After he’d moved to the Asheville area, though, he’d been a loner. He had a host of acquaintances, but not many close friends. It pleased him to meet this lad.

  Perhaps sensing his churning emotions, Dora put her hand on his shoulder and left it there for several miles, but she didn’t comment on the reunion. Contemplating the past he’d left behind, Allen didn’t want to talk either.

  They were almost to Biltmore when Dora broke the silence. “Since, like it or lump it, I’ve fallen heir to the textile mill, I should find a place of my own to live when I’m in North Carolina. George and his mother will probably insist that I stay at Biltmore, but I won’t do that. I’d prefer to have a place of my own. Do you know of a small house I can rent?” Smiling, she added, “One that comes with a housekeeper? Maude will expect to take care of the house, but she’ll have enough to do without that.”

  “I know of only one vacant house in Fairfield that you’d even consider renting. Most of the other dwellings are small—probably about the size of a bedroom in your Lo
ng Island residence.”

  She poked him in the side with her elbow. “You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”

  “Nope! Just speaking the truth. The house belongs to an elderly woman who’s living with her daughter in Asheville now. She’s an invalid, and it isn’t likely she’ll ever live in the house again. I doubt that she’d consider renting, but she might be willing to sell it. There isn’t much rental property in Fairfield.”

  “I know you think I’m a spoiled brat, but I can’t help my background any more than you had anything to do with where you were born and into what family. If I’d give all my money away, would you have more respect for me than you do now?”

  Allen was struck speechless for a few moments, and he slowed the horses’ gait by pulling the reins. “Now just a minute! What gave you the idea that I don’t respect you?”

  “You’re critical of everything I say or do, and you act like it’s a crime to live in New York.” Her dark eyes flashed with anger, and long, mysterious, soaring eye-brows enhanced her curving eyelashes. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman. She was pretty enough when she was smiling, but now anger had unleashed a bewitching feminine charm he hadn’t noticed before.

  He cleared his throat and answered calmly, “I don’t remember that I’ve ever criticized you unless you asked for my opinion. If you don’t want the truth from me, don’t ask me any questions.”

  “For your information, life here is as far removed from my lifestyle in New York as if I lived on an island in the Pacific.” When he would have protested, she continued, “I live in an apartment. Our ancestral home along the Hudson River is huge, but I don’t like to live there alone. Father is gone quite a lot, so I have an apartment in New York City, where I live most of the time. But I doubt there are any apartments to be had in Fairfield, so I thought I’d need a house. I’d prefer to buy one if I can’t persuade Father to change his mind about giving the mill to me. Of course there’s always the chance that I might make such a disaster of managing the business that he’ll change his mind about having me as the resident proprietor.”