doorframe. “Mr. Sterling is second only to Mrs. Winter, who is second only to the Vanderbilts. When any one of them ring, you’re expected to jump to do their bidding.”
“I don’t jump to do anyone’s bidding.”
“You do now.”
Mack allowed the chimney to pass through the middle of the shade, making sure the edge of the globe rode down to the fitter.
“You also need to keep your fists to yourself. Mr. Sterling wants to cut you loose, but Mrs. Winter said no. Says she’s willing to make an allowance – just this once – for your backwoods roots. Personally, I think it’s more likely she’s keeping you on because you have a twin. A tall, fair-of-face identical twin she thinks would look nice standing next to you in the banquet hall, assuming you can be brought up to snuff. But one more day like today, and twin or no, they’ll send you packing.”
Mack scrutinized the completed lamp. It should’ve taken him twenty or thirty minutes to assemble. Instead, it had taken all day.
It made him want to quit. To go back to the beloved mountains where he’d grown up. All he ever wanted was to build himself a workshop in the mountains, fashion some furniture, sell it to Asheville’s mercantile, and live in peace.
He’d just begun to build a nest egg when Pa had died, leaving the responsibility of the family’s welfare on Mack’s shoulders. Everything he’d saved had slowly eroded until it was finally gone.
And after Ma’s death, he was in even worse shape. So he’d farmed the boys out and put Ora Lou in the orphanage. Things settled down for a while – until the rumors about Sloop began to reach his ears.
Once he’d confirmed them, there was no question of leaving Ora Lou there. But that would mean finding a place for her to live in town.
He’d looked around for rooms to rent, but the ones he could afford were completely unsuitable for a thirteen-year-old girl. So he’d best do what he needed to keep his job here until he could afford a place for his sister.
Stepping into the room, Allan picked up the lid of the express box and leaned it against the wall. “They’ve put you in my charge.”
Mack looked up. “Why?”
Allan straightened. “Because nobody else wants to deal with you.”
“But you do?”
He shrugged. “You’ve accomplished more this week alone than Kirk did in a month, and that lightens everyone’s load, including mine.”
“Who’s Kirk?”
“Our previous useful man.” He ran a hand across his mouth. “He also happens to be the fellow you clocked on the second floor.”
Mack lifted a brow. “He was bullying a child.”
Allan drew his lips into a tight line. “Yes. Kirk’s been needing a setdown for a while now.”
Crossing his arms, Mack leaned back against the table. “What happens if I catch him doing the same thing again?”
“You keep your hands to yourself. If you don’t, you’ll not only lose your job, you’ll take me down with you.” Allan clapped him on the shoulder. “And that, my friend, isn’t going to happen. Now, let’s close it up in here, go to the carriage house, find you some clothes that fit, and then catch a wagon to the barn.”
“There are no work clothes that fit. Only the fancy stuff Earl wears.”
“Then we’ll find us a seamstress. Now, come on. I get the evening off and I don’t want to miss even a minute of it.”
CHAPTER
Eight
Singing “Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay” as loudly as he could, Aaron James galloped across the barn’s wooden floor, his arm tight about Tillie’s waist. The footman had a big smile and a handsome set of shoulders, but was a little on the short side.
Laughing, she allowed him to spin her until she was dizzy. When the song ended, she clung to his arm in an effort to steady her course. No sooner had he deposited her at the table with her family than he swept up the next girl passing by.
Though this barn no longer housed animals, evidence of their habitation touched the hay-scented air. Drinking
“I don’t jump to do anyone’s bidding.”
“You do now.”
Mack allowed the chimney to pass through the middle of the shade, making sure the edge of the globe rode down to the fitter.
“You also need to keep your fists to yourself. Mr. Sterling wants to cut you loose, but Mrs. Winter said no. Says she’s willing to make an allowance – just this once – for your backwoods roots. Personally, I think it’s more likely she’s keeping you on because you have a twin. A tall, fair-of-face identical twin she thinks would look nice standing next to you in the banquet hall, assuming you can be brought up to snuff. But one more day like today, and twin or no, they’ll send you packing.”
Mack scrutinized the completed lamp. It should’ve taken him twenty or thirty minutes to assemble. Instead, it had taken all day.
It made him want to quit. To go back to the beloved mountains where he’d grown up. All he ever wanted was to build himself a workshop in the mountains, fashion some furniture, sell it to Asheville’s mercantile, and live in peace.
He’d just begun to build a nest egg when Pa had died, leaving the responsibility of the family’s welfare on Mack’s shoulders. Everything he’d saved had slowly eroded until it was finally gone.
And after Ma’s death, he was in even worse shape. So he’d farmed the boys out and put Ora Lou in the orphanage. Things settled down for a while – until the rumors about Sloop began to reach his ears.
Once he’d confirmed them, there was no question of leaving Ora Lou there. But that would mean finding a place for her to live in town.
He’d looked around for rooms to rent, but the ones he could afford were completely unsuitable for a thirteen-year-old girl. So he’d best do what he needed to keep his job here until he could afford a place for his sister.
Stepping into the room, Allan picked up the lid of the express box and leaned it against the wall. “They’ve put you in my charge.”
Mack looked up. “Why?”
Allan straightened. “Because nobody else wants to deal with you.”
“But you do?”
He shrugged. “You’ve accomplished more this week alone than Kirk did in a month, and that lightens everyone’s load, including mine.”
“Who’s Kirk?”
“Our previous useful man.” He ran a hand across his mouth. “He also happens to be the fellow you clocked on the second floor.”
Mack lifted a brow. “He was bullying a child.”
Allan drew his lips into a tight line. “Yes. Kirk’s been needing a setdown for a while now.”
Crossing his arms, Mack leaned back against the table. “What happens if I catch him doing the same thing again?”
“You keep your hands to yourself. If you don’t, you’ll not only lose your job, you’ll take me down with you.” Allan clapped him on the shoulder. “And that, my friend, isn’t going to happen. Now, let’s close it up in here, go to the carriage house, find you some clothes that fit, and then catch a wagon to the barn.”
“There are no work clothes that fit. Only the fancy stuff Earl wears.”
“Then we’ll find us a seamstress. Now, come on. I get the evening off and I don’t want to miss even a minute of it.”
CHAPTER
Eight
Singing “Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay” as loudly as he could, Aaron James galloped across the barn’s wooden floor, his arm tight about Tillie’s waist. The footman had a big smile and a handsome set of shoulders, but was a little on the short side.
Laughing, she allowed him to spin her until she was dizzy. When the song ended, she clung to his arm in an effort to steady her course. No sooner had he deposited her at the table with her family than he swept up the next girl passing by.
Though this barn no longer housed animals, evidence of their habitation touched the hay-scented air. Drinking
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