Today they were moving Reverend Carmichael’s church. It was the largest building they’d attempted to move so far, and if Fletcher arrived in time to see the actual move, he would surely be impressed and grant permission for them to stay.
Activity was already underway outside the white clapboard church. The long nave and lack of internal supports made it a problematic move, and Enzo wanted the church stripped of as much weight as possible. The bell was brought down from the steeple, and the stained-glass windows had already been taken out and wrapped in cloth. The pews had been removed the previous day, but they needed to be carried to a neighboring lot to clear a path for the oxen. Eloise paired with Dick Brookmeyer to carry a pew, taking tiny steps to avoid banging her shins, but it was fun. She’d never done manual labor before coming to Duval Springs, and it made her feel like part of the community.
By lunchtime the jackscrew teams had the church hoisted two feet off its foundations, and a crew was preparing to move the rails into place when Eloise spotted Fletcher disembarking from a carriage at the end of the street. How handsome he looked, his blond hair carefully groomed and long wool coat swaying as he walked toward her in long, confident strides.
She left the church and headed down the street toward him, gathering her thoughts. She needed to sell her proposal to him, which meant balancing the complexity of the task with the town’s likelihood of success. It would be the only way he’d authorize Enzo to stay. She reached him a block away from the church.
“Hello, Fletcher,” she said brightly. “Have you ever seen a church roll down the street? Because you’re about to!”
He didn’t return her smile as he paused in the middle of the road. “I came to town hoping to sign off on the preliminary stage of the demolition team’s work, but what’s this I hear about a request for an additional month?”
“Actually, we’re only asking to stay through our original deadline.”
His eyes were stern with disapproval, but she was going to win this battle.
“Look across the street,” she said, gesturing to the empty lots where Marie Trudeau’s house and four others used to be. The gaps in the row of buildings made the street look like a smile with a bunch of teeth missing. “Those lots are where houses used to be. They’ve all been safely moved to the new town. Come! Let’s head to the church, and you can see how Enzo leads the team in lifting it from its foundation.”
“I’d rather have Enzo show me his beautifully completed plans for how to dismantle these buildings,” Fletcher said wryly, but at least he followed her.
This was the most complex part of the operation, and Fletcher needed to see how crucial Enzo was to its success. She watched with pride as Enzo strode from station to station, inspecting the cribbing blocks that secured the building to the rails. “He’s been magnificent,” she said to Fletcher. “The men are learning more and more with each building. This one is a challenge because the bell tower adds so much weight on one end. Enzo says it’s a stability issue, but he’s shown us how to secure it.”
When Enzo noticed Fletcher’s arrival, he gave a long blast of the whistle to signal a break, then jogged across the street to join them. Alex followed closely behind.
“Impressive work,” Fletcher told Enzo with a nod toward the church. Eloise appreciated his economy of words. All it took was two words along with that infinitesimal nod to convey a world of meaning. It was an acknowledgment of their accomplishment but still laden with skepticism.
Enzo rubbed his hands on a handkerchief. “How can I help you, sir?”
“I came to ensure that the two of you will be back in Manhattan next week.”
She sucked in a quick breath. “You’re already rejecting my request? I’d like a chance to speak with you about it first.”
“I received it and rejected it. You need to be back to work a week from Monday.” Fletcher nodded toward the church. “This is a volunteer project, and while your service is commendable, the state has strict timetables. If you can’t meet them, I need to know now.”
Enzo shifted on his feet. “This isn’t interfering with our work. Since so many buildings are being moved instead of demolished, we are way ahead of schedule. Please, we can still meet the original schedule if we stay through the end of December.”
“If we can speed up the schedule, we will,” Fletcher insisted. “It would be a misuse of state funds to do otherwise.”
Enzo looked uneasy, and Eloise felt sick at the prospect of moving more buildings without him. She couldn’t back down.
“We would like a one-month leave of absence,” she said daringly. “It won’t cost you a dime, for I will personally fund Enzo’s salary.” Enzo and Alex both gaped at her. She’d built a respectable bank account over the years and didn’t mind drawing on it to cover Enzo’s salary. One day the funds from her mother’s estate would replenish it, but for now the town needed Enzo’s help.
“A leave of absence was never in the cards,” Fletcher said.
“I’ve seen you approve such requests for other employees. The people in this valley have had their entire lives disrupted, and helping them move will go a long way toward salvaging wounded feelings. I suggest the water board grant Enzo and me a one-month leave of absence.”
It was an audacious request, but Fletcher’s expression was typically calm. “Declined,” he said simply.
“Why?”
“Because the rules dictate that such requests be submitted months in advance. Both of you have responsibilities in the city. You will be back in the office a week from Monday, or you will be terminated.”
She blanched. That was a lot blunter than anticipated, and it annoyed her. “When we accepted this assignment, you said the city would be flexible in accommodating our needs.”
“I repeat: The two of you will be at work next Monday, or you will be fired.”
Behind them, all twenty men on the crew stood idle, awaiting Enzo’s return. Those men needed Enzo. They needed her.
Enzo drew a heavy breath as he met her eyes. “I have a wife and two daughters back home,” he said. “I can’t afford to lose this job. I’m sorry, Eloise. I’ll do the best I can to show people what to do, but I can’t lose my job.”
She hated the way Alex grimaced at Enzo’s words. He recoiled and turned away, as though from a body blow. Their plan had no room for delays or setbacks, and this was a huge one. It would take weeks to find another skilled engineer.
She turned back to Fletcher. “You could grant us the leave if you wanted.”
“Not without a significant adjustment to our timetable.”
Her gaze tracked to the men working at the church. Enzo had rejoined them, and they returned to their stations, hunkered over to begin the move. All of them had donated their time and money to save this community. She couldn’t let them down. Her heart brimmed with an inexplicable emotion, and she turned her attention back to Fletcher.
“Sometimes there are more important things in life than timetables or profit margins, and those things are called dreams. Wild, impossible dreams that are normally only the fantasies of poets and playwrights, but sometimes ordinary people seize upon them, join forces, and fight to make it happen.”
She hoped she wasn’t destroying any chance she had for a future with Fletcher, but if she let him bully her into returning home, it would plant a seed of resentment that would never heal. For once in her life she had stepped into an adventure tale and become part of it. She wasn’t ready to leave yet.
Fletcher hadn’t moved a muscle as he scrutinized her. “You never struck me as such a person.”
“I’m not,” she admitted with a helpless smile. “I want to do it for the next month and then go back to timetables and rule books and my safe, predictable life.” Could he understand that? She scanned his face, searching for a hint of sympathy. For the first time since they had met, she showed Fletcher the raw, vulnerable piece of her soul she normally kept under lock and key, and prayed he could understand. They would be brilliant t
ogether if he could accept her for who she truly was.
“It doesn’t work that way,” Fletcher replied. “You need to decide where your priorities are. If you aren’t at your desk by nine o’clock next Monday, I will fire you.”
A piece of her appreciated how firmly he stuck to his convictions, but it felt like the foundation was crumbling beneath her. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t give up.
“We don’t need to wait until next Monday,” she said calmly. “I’m staying in the valley. If you want to fire me, do it now.”
She finally got a reaction out of him. He blanched in surprise but recovered quickly. “Don’t be a fool. Don’t throw your livelihood away over an ill-conceived pipe dream.”
“Eloise, maybe you shouldn’t do this.” Alex’s voice was pained. For once in her life, she didn’t want Alex to be reasonable. She wanted his support. She kept her gaze locked on Fletcher.
“Go ahead,” she challenged. “Fire me.”
She didn’t really expect him to do it, but he did. “You’re fired,” he said flatly, no trace of heat beneath the words. He turned away and headed back toward the carriage. It would be easy to catch him if she chose. Did he want her to? Fletcher never once looked back, but his pace was uncharacteristically slow as he strolled toward the carriage.
“Eloise, I’m sorry,” Alex said. “I didn’t expect this to happen.”
She hadn’t either, and as Fletcher walked away, the first regrets rose up and threatened to choke her. She loved that job. It wasn’t that she needed the money; it was Fletcher’s rejection that hurt. She hadn’t expected him to walk away so easily.
It suddenly felt very cold on this street corner. She drew her cloak tighter, but her teeth started chattering anyway. “Don’t worry about me. I’m used to starting over.”
She’d done it her entire life, but this was the first time it was of her own making. It was both empowering and terrifying.
Without thinking, she turned and ran toward the hotel. There was something she needed to do.
Alex was torn between darting after Eloise and getting back to the church. Losing Enzo was a disaster. The crushing weight of disappointment made it hard to breathe, but everyone in this town depended on Alex. They had entrusted him with their life savings, and he couldn’t let them down. He needed to glean what he could from Enzo about moving a lopsided building like the church, for there were other buildings with weight distribution problems.
But Eloise had just allowed herself to be fired on behalf of this town. His rigid, rule-following CPA had just thrown her lot in with him because she had been seized by a vision she wanted to fight for.
He stood in the middle of the street, torn between returning to Enzo and going after Eloise. She had just scurried up the hotel steps and slammed the door behind her, probably already regretting her decision. He looked at the church, where Hercules and Dr. Lloyd conferred with Enzo as he gave them instructions. That building was ready to roll, and he needed to be there.
Or . . . he could trust Hercules and Dr. Lloyd to learn what Enzo had to teach. It didn’t all have to be on his shoulders. In fact, it shouldn’t be. If they were going to move this town, it was going to require teamwork, and he’d have to start leaning on others to help.
He sprinted toward the hotel, dirt and sand flying up behind him. He dashed up the stairs and through the front door. Eloise stood at the front counter, her eyes alight with determination as she filled out a telegram form.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m sending a telegram to my maid.”
“You have a maid?” he asked.
She set the pen down and turned to face him. Her expression was still inscrutable. He couldn’t tell if she was shattered or ecstatic. “Yes, I have a maid. Since I won’t be returning to the city this month, I’d like to have her here.”
“If you need help, you should have asked. We’ve got maids at the hotel who can—”
“Tasha is a friend. And I miss Ilya.”
His brows lowered at the man’s name. “Who is Ilya?”
“He’s a baby. He just turned eight months old, and he cut his third tooth right before I came here, and I miss him. It’s ridiculous. He’s my maid’s baby, not mine, but I miss him and I want him here.”
And then the most amazing thing happened. An uncertain smile began tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Alex, I’ve never been a very bold or brave person, but I think I’ve just crossed the Rubicon. I keep waiting to burst into tears over what Fletcher just did, but it isn’t happening. I think I made the right decision.”
A sense of elation began building inside him. He’d never been prouder of her than he was at this moment. “You did, Eloise.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I’ve known you were this brave since I was eighteen years old.”
Pleasure made her cheeks flush red. “Oh, Alex, sometimes when I’m with you, I feel like I can fly. Like we can pull the sword from the stone. We can break the man out of the iron mask. And in my heart, I know that we can move this town.”
His heart was so full it threatened to split wide open. “Eloise, I wasn’t wrong when I carved our initials into that elm tree. We really are one for the ages. I’ve got the vision, and you’ve got the ballast.”
She gulped back laughter. “Is that the best you can do? I’ve just flung caution into the wind over you, and the best you can call me is ballast?”
A sheen of tears threatened to unman him. “Yes, my love, you are the ballast in this particular story. And I thank God for it! I thank God for your pencil-pushing ways and your hidebound regulations. I’m even coming to appreciate the way you make me toe the line. You are my ballast.” He drew her into his arms.
“Okay, Lancelot,” she murmured before kissing him full on the mouth.
He kissed her back with all the bottled-up longing of twelve years, then picked her up and whirled her around, giving her an extra squeeze before setting her back down. She was here, back in his arms, and nothing had ever felt so right.
“Let’s go change the world,” he said, and at this perfect moment, he was certain they could.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
The night before the demolition team returned to the city, Hercules hosted a farewell bash at the tavern. Paperwork kept Alex late at his office, and it was dark before he could get away. A storm was coming, and he tugged a scarf higher against the sleet beginning to fall. It was December 3, and the weather was going to get rough, but plenty of people had already gathered by the time he stepped into the warmth of the tavern.
To his surprise, Claude Fitzgerald was here. So far, the team’s lead engineer had shown only disdain for their town, and Alex had assumed he wouldn’t come. On the contrary, Claude looked well into his cups and was in the middle of a good-hearted farewell speech.
“You people are maniacs to move this town without professional help,” Claude said. “But I have inspected every building in the valley, and by golly, most of them were built without the help of professionals.” His voice was a combination of bewilderment and sloppy drunkenness, as though he was amazed people without a college degree could wield a hammer. He stamped his foot on the plank flooring, wobbling a little as he did so. “Take this place,” he said. “Obviously cobbled together by complete amateurs, and yet here it stands, two hundred years later, still a fine and noble place to hold a party.”
That got a round of cheers, and Enzo rushed to catch Claude’s mug before it sloshed more beer onto the floor. Alex finally spotted Eloise sitting in one of the windowsills beside her newly arrived maid and the little baby she adored. The maid flirted with one of the Trudeau boys while Eloise bounced the baby on her knee.
In the week since her maid had arrived, Eloise and that baby seemed inseparable. She lugged him down to breakfast and then took an hour each evening to give him a bath. Alex would be a little jealous except for the unmitigated delight she took in the baby. It see
med Fletcher Jones had been entirely banished from her heart, for which he gave daily thanks. He wove through the crowd and to her side, pleased at how her face warmed when she spotted him.
“Has Claude been rambling a long time?” he asked.
“At least ten minutes.” She made room for him on the window seat, but when he tried to link his hand with hers, she scooted a little farther away. He didn’t mind. Part of Eloise’s charm was her prickly sense of decorum.
At the center of the tavern, Claude kept running off at the mouth as he alternately praised and insulted the town. “Look at those chicken bones,” he said over a hiccup. “Completely impractical. Those boys are never coming back—”
“Bite your tongue,” Mr. Gallagher shouted from the back of the tavern. “One of those wishbones belongs to my boy!”
Claude bowed in concession. “Aside from that one wishbone, that is a wall of failure, and yet it still holds a place of honor. But you know what? I love that wall! This tavern has it all, the good and the bad, the failure and the triumphs. And possibly the best ale—” He hiccupped again. “And possibly the best ale outside of Manhattan.”
It was a backhanded compliment, but Alex was surprised to get even that much from the surly engineer.
Claude raised his mug high. “To Roy and Enzo!”
A roar went up from the crowd, as much for the conclusion of the overly long speech as for the toast to Roy and Enzo. Those men deserved more than a sloppy tribute from a drunken man.
A rush of sentimentality seized Alex, and he launched himself up to stand on top of a table. Eloise cringed, no doubt appalled by his gauche behavior, but they were all friends here.
“Enzo Accardi and Roy Winthrop, you are now honorary citizens of Duval Springs,” he pronounced. “And five months from today, that citizenship will be good in Highpoint too. Your generosity will never be forgotten. When you come back to this valley, you will both see streets named in your honor.”
A Desperate Hope Page 18
