Briar smiled, surprisingly glad for the company after the coldness of the ladies in town. “Thanks for waiting.”
He grinned back. “I thought you’d be longer, but I saw Mim headed for Miss Olive’s.”
“Doesn’t take people long to make a decision. Besides, it was time we got on home before the sun sets.” She didn’t want to tell him the reason she was walking empty-handed, no piecework for her. They walked in silence for a while until she felt his gaze.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I just wish I could help.”
“Something will turn up. That’s what my da always said.” Briar stopped. “Oh, no.”
They’d caught up to a young couple walking ahead of them. The boy, handsome, tall, and lanky, leaned in close to say something to the curly-haired brunette he walked with. Neither of them lived out this way, so the only place they could be going was the pond. Our pond.
The brunette tilted her head to listen, laughed, and then touched the boy’s arm. Wheeler and Sadie. Sadie was new at the mill and worked in the carding room, one of the worst jobs. Briar couldn’t imagine how Wheeler had spotted her so quickly. He never went near the carding room since he’d moved into the machine shop. Unless they’d met during break on the fire escape when he was waiting for Briar to come out. She didn’t want to imagine that; it was too painful to think how his heart was changing while she was unaware.
Last winter, Wheeler had spent hours with Briar, laying out their plans while they sat in the parlor at the boardinghouse. As soon as he was able, he was going to transfer to the new shirtwaist factory to work as a steamer, keeping an eye out for a cutter job—cutting out thick layers of material for the ladies to sew into the shirtwaists. Aside from being a boss or a dyer, it was the highest-paying job at the factory. And when he saved up enough, he’d leave rural Vermont to go back to the Old Country. He and Briar and the children.
Both their families hailed from County Wicklow in Ireland. Wheeler’s mam liked to tell the story of how Briar’s great-grandmother almost married Wheeler’s great-grandfather, except he proposed to someone in the dark, thinking it was his girl when it wasn’t. The proposed-to girl was so happy, he hadn’t the heart to break it off. Everyone said it was inevitable for Briar and Wheeler to meet in the new land and get it right this time.
His new sweetheart didn’t have a connection with him like that.
Everything had been settled. They’d had everyone’s blessing. And then Wheeler changed his mind for no real reason other than he needed time to think things over. Briar didn’t know how to stop him from getting lost in the dark like his great-grandfather did. Or if she should even try.
“If we walk any slower we’ll start going backward,” Henry said, pulling Briar back to the present. He stepped into the woods and came back with a tall walking stick. “Not that I mind this extra time with you, but I do have chores at home.”
Briar set her lips and didn’t answer. She never asked Henry to walk her to the cottage. But that was the way with a Prince, as everyone said. They acted out of habit, and once a habit was established, it stayed that way. His new habit appeared to be trying to keep her mind off of Wheeler.
“They’re ridiculous,” he said scornfully as the couple in front of them touched hands for a few moments before separating again.
Briar’s heart cracked a little more. She remained silent, but fingered the fancy comb holding up her hair. The comb that Wheeler had given her for Christmas. And now they’re going to our pond. Is there no other place he can take her?
“You can hold my hand if it would make you feel better,” Henry said. He held out his calloused, grease-laden fingers for her to grab. His hand had grown since the last time he’d offered it to her.
She sighed. Henry. He was there when her family moved into the valley and would likely still be there when they moved out. She was told there’d never been a time when Sunrise Valley didn’t have a Henry Prince in it. From son back to father to grandfather and beyond, and none of them had ever gone anywhere. They were known as a reclusive family, hardly leaving their farm. Except for Henry. He was different.
Briar’s family had only been in the valley since Pansy was born. They were supposed to be traveling through, but then Da got a job at the new factory and they stayed. Mam worked, too, but developed the coughing sickness from all the cotton in her lungs. She died when the twin boys were born, and then when Da died of consumption, the Jenny children were stuck there, like weeds that nobody wanted.
Briar didn’t intend for them to stay any longer in Sunrise Valley than they had to. She would find a way out for her sister and brothers. Back to the Old Country like Mam wanted for them. Back to where they would fit in. And Henry Prince was not that way.
He wiggled his eyebrows at her.