Her shoulders rose with silent laughter. Probably because they both knew Cole wasn’t collecting a salary. Thank God for the stock market and the benefits of having his desk beside the finance manager at the Dispatch. He’d squirreled away substantial savings from his former job, and the dividends from his stocks were an added bonus.
“All right, you love birds.” The worker rounded the counter and motioned them to follow. “Watch your step, and don’t move about in the car. This is an eight-hundred-foot long track, so make yourselves cozy.” He held the door open with a grin wider than Mount Washington. “It’s probably a good thing you have this car to yourselves.” He winked, and Elissa’s mouth parted.
Cole chuckled. He needed this dash of humor to keep his spirits light. The motorized box remained exactly how Cole had remembered, the yellowed woodwork, the stiff benches carved with people’s names, smudges on the windows.
Elissa stepped through first and selected a seat. She chose the front—the exact spot he’d chosen sixteen years ago. He gritted his teeth. One foot in front of the other, Parker.
The man closed the door behind Cole, trapping him with his memories.
“It’s a shame the river is so polluted, and the buildings are so ugly. The view could be remarkable.” She closed her eyes as if envisioning an immaculate skyline, free from the ashy marks of factories.
This area bore the soiled fingerprint of the massive steel industry, and with it came the weighty recovery from The Great War. Yet its heart pulsed to the beat of resilience. Like Cole’s. “My grandfather was on the team of engineers under Samuel Diescher.” The designer and master builder had been sort of a hero to the locals, saving them from trekking the mountainous stretch on foot.
She scooted closer, her side brushing his, her nearness bringing much-needed warmth. “You never told me.”
He shrugged. “Because I hated this place. Hated everything about it.”
Elissa’s mouth twisted, her eyes searching his face.
“I was ten when I last saw this view. My dad brought me.” Heat poured off his words, and Cole could almost taste the fiery bitterness. “He raved on and on about his own father and about this incline. Its fortified steel structure. The steam engine. The cast-iron drum and air brakes.” Amazing how much he remembered. Why hadn’t the words abandoned him like the man who’d spoken them?
“Your father was an engineer, right? So I guess he followed in your grandfather’s footsteps?”
With a slight hitch, the car began its slow climb. The squealing of wire cables and the clicking of iron track charged the air.
“Yeah. One of his jobs. According to Mom, he had several. None of which he kept long.” Cole blew out a breath. If voicing this brought healing, the flaming pain slicing his chest would be worth it. “This was the best memory I had with my dad. I remember wanting to make him proud, even more than Granddad had.” What a joke Cole’s life had been. The only one he’d made proud was the bootlegger he’d kept in business. “Later, when he left, I despised this thing. And for a long while, despised him.”
Her fingers wrapped around his arm. “You were young and forced to grow up quickly.”
Cole glanced at his scored knuckles—the evidence of his work as a breaker boy in the mines. The foreman’s cursing shouts, the chunks of skin amongst other impurities soiling the conveyor belt, the bleeding palms from hand-picking the sharp slate from the pile of prized coal, all left haunting effects on a twelve-year-old boy earning money to aid a depressed mother. “I’m thankful for that afternoon at Howe Springs.”
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “That fountain was a refuge for both of us.”
His routine stop between the mines and home, the place of washing his wounds in the crisp, spring water, became the cleansing place of his soul. “I’m thankful for that pig-tailed girl who glanced up from her book and dragged me by the elbow to her father.” Determination had marked Elissa’s steps that day, and admiration had stamped Cole’s heart. “If it wasn’t for you, I may not be here.”
Her sad smile matched her somber tone. “No child should be forced to work in those death pits.”
Cole ran the flawed knuckle down her cheek. “You’ve always stood against injustice.” His gaze traveled from her eyes to the yellow rose. “Never forget the impact you have, Elissa. It changes lives.”
Biting her lower lip, she peered out the window. “A lot of men needed work back then. Father rejected dozens each day. I honestly don’t know how I convinced him to hire you on.”
“Because you pour your heart into your persuasions.” He curled an arm around her, and she snuggled into his chest. “And who could say no to your heart?”
She stiffened but didn’t break from his touch.
“Thank you for believing in me, Spark.” He wished this trek lasted more than five minutes because he could hold her forever.
She angled her face toward his. “But if you hate this incline so much, why bring me today?”
“I can’t run from the past anymore.” His mind might insist he was that scruffy child his father abandoned, but his heart impressed him with an image of the true Father. The One who accepted him. Loved him. “I wanted to create a new memory with someone I care about.”
“Cole?” Her voice rumbled against his chest.
“Hmm.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
He tugged her closer. “I was scared.”
She shifted in his arms. “Of what? Being stuck with me?”
He pulled back, clasping her shoulders, peering into her face. “Never.” His chest tightened at the hurt marring her eyes. “It’s just … you looked exactly like her.”
“What?” She jerked free from his hold. “Who is her?”
“My mom.”
Her brows sank. “I don’t understand. What’s your mother have to do with you not returning?”
He flicked a glance back. Halfway to the summit. “Remember what you told me the second before I stepped onto the train?”
“Yes,” she said, voice brittle, gaze lowered.
I love you. Words he’d hoped to evoke since the moment he’d recognized his love for her. Words that had seized his heart with a whisper of the future, but his past had screamed of nights of torment. Hearing his mother weeping when she’d thought he’d been asleep. Staring at his dad’s empty chair at dinnertime. Each birthday, every holiday a misery because of an absent father. “When you spoke those words, you looked identical to my mother … the day my father left. She’d said ‘I love you’ with so much admiration in her eyes.” He shook his head. “Mom didn’t know he wasn’t returning. Believed it was another business trip.”
She’d gotten served the divorce papers five months later.
“You did the exact same thing. Left. You didn’t even write to let me know you’d changed your mind about us.”
“Because I never changed my mind.”
Her fingers fanned against her breastbone, wariness returning to her eyes.
“I couldn’t let go of you, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” This wasn’t going as he’d hoped. Words lodged in his throat, and all his thoughts seemed to tumble down the barren hill beneath them. “Mom explained away Dad’s abandonment by saying he had an adventurous spirit—that he couldn’t stay in one place too long. The words she spoke to describe him, people used about me. Carefree, impulsive.” And soon, failure.
The hard angles of her face softened. “You are not like him. Look how you stepped up to help your mom with the bills. You were twelve, Cole. Twelve. When most boys were cutting up in the alleys, you were in the mine, getting your hands mangled. Then delivering papers on your bike. Washing windows, shoveling walks. You never missed an opportunity to help your mom. I respected you as much as I loved you.” She shifted in her seat as if she realized the weight of her words. But instead of looking mortified as he expected, she stared at him head on, with squared shoulders. “And if we would’ve married, then you would have been the same. A great
provider, an excellent husband.”
The car approached the summit, but he couldn’t leave this unsaid. He grabbed both of her hands and peered into her face. “I’m sorry, Elissa. If you only knew the time I’ve spent thinking of you. Wondering what you were doing. Trying to get copies of the Review so I could read your society page.”
She blinked at his words.
“I’ve known you were Elliot Wentworth. I’d know your work anywhere.” He traced her jawline with his thumb, settling it under her lowered chin, gently lifting until her gaze met his. “You pour portions of your soul into your articles. Reading them, I felt close to you.” He smiled. “I also know how to set a table for a formal dinner now.”
She laughed even as tears escaped from her eyes.
He brushed them away. “I now know that I’m not the sort of man I once feared becoming, but it took years of pain to discover it. I’m sorry for ruining our future together.”
She gripped both of his hands. “Maybe the future is only beginning.”
He dipped his head and pressed his mouth against her waiting lips as if sealing the promise of a fresh start. Everything in him hummed with adoration for her. He slid his arms around her back and gathered her close. The roots of this relationship dug deeper than physical attraction. He could feel her love for him, from the delicate pressure of her lips to her tender fingers cupping his face. He couldn’t defend himself against the surge of protectiveness waving over him. The contest. The murder case. He needed to keep this woman safe. She needed to stay in his arms for a lifetime.
The car stopped, but neither of them moved. Their lips, hearts, touching each other in the most magnetizing way.
Someone cleared their throat, and Elissa jumped back. A woman in her sixties, hands loaded with grocer’s bags and eyes heavy with disapproval, stepped past them and sat down with a huff. Elissa’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, but Cole didn’t bother to hide his. He adjusted his hat, which had gotten bumped by Elissa’s forehead during their smooching session, and he sent a wink toward the disgruntled lady.
She mumbled a “Well, I never,” while they made their exit, hand-in-hand.
With a base lined with smoke-belching factories and the face of the hillside pocked with exhausted mines, Coal’s Hill had been reduced to an industrialized wasteland.
“It’s not promising.” Elissa assessed the view with a crinkled nose.
“Everything has potential for beauty.” Cole stroked her forefinger with his thumb. “Besides, I have the most breathtaking view around.” He trained his focus on her and watched a tender smile bloom. “I kind of feel sorry for this place.” They strolled down the narrow walk. “It was once a big shot. A flourishing mine, but greed plundered its depths, leaving it to decay.”
“I know a man who bears the same name, who was also a big shot.” She leaned in, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. “And though he may have been left to rot, God had a different plan.”
“He did indeed.” He kissed her forehead. “But this isn’t a nice location for a date. I apologize for that. I’ll make it up to you.”
“How so?” Her smile curved sideways.
“You’ll get your fill from The Regent, and after that, would you accompany me to my cousin’s wedding this Wednesday?”
“Sterling and Sophie?” The sun broke from behind the prison-gray clouds, but the delight in Elissa’s eyes shone brighter. “I really like her. We’ve had some great conversations. She’s the only person I know who can make that man smile.”
“How do you know …” Ah, Elissa would know his cousin’s fiancée, considering she’d been helping with his mom’s apartments for years. “Thank you, Spark.”
“For what?”
“For being you.” He tugged her closer. “Are you ready to head back down?
“Only if we can pick up where we left off.” Her teasing smile ignited every nerve in him to burn with expectation. “I’d be delighted to be your date this week.”
And hopefully, forever.
CHAPTER 19
Cole climbed the stairs leading to his apartment and loosened his tie knot, smiling. Having been weighted by unspoken words and punctured by regret, his heart hadn’t been this light and whole in years. As for Elissa? She might have walked into work this morning on Kendrew’s arm, but for most of the day, she’d been on his. And it would remain that way if he had anything to do with it.
His Spark.
Whispering a prayer of thanks, he unlocked his apartment door, shouldering it open. Movement stirred in the early evening shadows.
A man.
The guy’s back was to Cole, hunched over the desk that sat under the window.
“Hey!” Cole dashed after him.
The intruder scrambled over the desk for the open window, papers scattering, the piece of furniture rocking from the movement and falling over. Cole hurtled the coffee table, side-stepping the desk, and reached the window. The man bounded down the last of the fire escape and leapt to the alley.
Cole sprinted out of his apartment and pounded on his cousin’s door across the hall. “Sterling! Get out here!” He didn’t wait to see if his cousin was in but rushed down the steps, jumping the bottom six.
“What’s going on?” Sterling called from upstairs.
“Come on.” Cole charged out the front door, off the porch, smacking the concrete. The wind threw its airy blast in his face, but he knew these streets with his eyes closed. He dashed in the direction the man had retreated. It led to Fifth Avenue, where the intruder could easily slip away. Cole glared down the busy thoroughfare. A man on a bicycle zipped by. Several men puffed cigars outside the hat shop. The postman jaywalked across the street, but—
A hand clapped his shoulder. Cole spun with his fist clenched and ready.
Sterling.
He blew out a ragged breath.
“Forget about me so quickly?” Amusement lit his cousin’s eyes, even while his mouth held a firm scowl.
“A man broke into my apartment.” His chest burned, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the biting air in his lungs or the sorry fact the blasted guy had escaped.
Sterling’s gaze swept the area. “No luck finding him now.”
Businesses he could have ducked into lined the avenue. And most likely he’d snuck out the back door of one of them. Confound it.
“Did you catch a glimpse of him?” A bead of water trickled down Sterling’s temple. His hair was flattened to his head. Wet. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower when he’d heard Cole’s pounding.
“Not really. He had a lean build. Black clothes, with the jacket collar flipped up and hat pulled low. I think his hair was dark. Nothing substantial.” He kicked a piece of garbage out of the way. “Let’s get back inside. If you catch a cold two days before your wedding, Sophie will murder me.” He scanned the road again. Was this the same man who’d broken into Mom’s kitchen last week? The one on the hunt for alcohol?
“What about Jeffrey Shelby? Think it could’ve been him?” Sterling’s suspicious tone threw Cole’s train of thought off its rails.
“Why would Jeffrey break into my room?” Cole tugged open the front door to the complex and allowed Sterling to enter first. “Think he’s the vengeful sort and mistook my room for yours? Wanting to vandalize it as he did Gibson’s Drug Store?”
Sterling rubbed the turn of his jaw. “That’s possible. He refused to answer any questions without his lawyer present.” He smacked the railing as they trudged up the steps. “The only information he told me was that his father’s death shocked him, and he turned to the bottle for comfort. Not those exact words, mind you.” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s check your room and see if the intruder left anything.”
“The man who broke in was lean. That rules out Jeffrey. No way that stocky man could lose that much poundage in a day.” Cole turned the light on, assessing the living room and adjacent kitchenette. Hopefully, the intruder had been careless. He grimaced. “It’s probably the same g
uy who stole the case of wood ethanol. On the hunt again.” Cole crouched by the overturned desk, inspecting the scattered papers for something foreign. Nope. All his.
Sterling leaned out the window with incredible skill for a man of his stature. “Nothing on the fire escape.” He shrank through the opened space, standing to full height. “My gut is telling me this has something to do with the new will that’s gone missing.”
“Why would anyone think I have it?” Cole scowled and righted the desk.
“Because you were in Shelby’s office last night.” He eased the window shut, drawing closed the curtains. “Those two brutes saw you. We don’t know who they’re working for.”
“But how’d they know it was me? Where I live?” Realization struck like a punch to the gut. “Someone’s trailing me.”
“Most likely.”
Dread clawed Cole’s chest. If he was being followed, then Elissa could be too. She could be in the sights of the killer. “Can you set up a patrol at the Tillman residence?” If not, Cole would camp outside her front door.
Sterling gave a tight nod. “Consider it done. Did one of those men at Shelby’s office match the guy you just saw?”
“No. One was porky, and the other looked malnourished.” But neither height nor build mattered when carrying a weapon. Cole’d be sure to stick close to Elissa. “Dr. Sheffield’s stature seems the same. Think he could be angry because he wasn’t getting any more charity checks? Did Shelby’s old will designate funds to Sheffield?”
“The doc’s not even mentioned. He’d have no reason to hunt for the new one.” Sterling grunted. “Plus, I questioned him right after you told me about your suspicion. He had seven hundred alibis for the night of Shelby’s murder. He was speaking at a convention in Erie.”
“That excludes him.” Cole palmed the back of his neck.
“You say the intruder had dark hair. Be more specific, brown or black?”
“Black.”
Sterling gave a tight nod. “I’m thinking you’ve just met the elusive lab assistant. Matthew Young.”
The wind subsided, but a howling chill echoed in the hollow of Elissa’s gut as her heels clicked on the charred sidewalk lining Garson Street. She squinted against the noonday sun at the skeletal remains of the Halloway Building.
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