their own, gave Galloway a wary respect, as they did his mother, who shared a stringhouse with her son. When Pemberton had suggested they make Galloway a crew boss, Buchanan had been against the idea. He’s a convicted murderer, Buchanan had protested. We shouldn’t even have him in camp, much less leading a crew.
Now, a year later, Pemberton again suggested Galloway be made a foreman, this time as Bilded’s replacement.
“It’s the most undisciplined crew in the camp,” Pemberton said between bites of his steak. “We need someone they’ll be afraid to buck.”
“What if he tries to buck us instead?” Buchanan asked. “Besides being a convicted murderer, he’s surly and disrespectful.”
“A crew won’t be laggards for a foreman they’re afraid of,” Serena said. “I would argue that’s more important than his lack of social graces.”
Buchanan was about to continue the argument when Wilkie raised a hand to silence him.
“Sorry, Buchanan,” Wilkie said, “but I’m siding with the Pembertons this time.”
“It appears Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton rule the day,” Doctor Cheney said, his tone becoming manneredly casual. “Your wife, Buchanan, I assume she plans to summer again in Concord?”
“Yes,” Buchanan said tersely.
“Perhaps you have similar plans to return to Colorado for the summer, Mrs. Pemberton?” Cheney asked. “I’m sure the family manse is much grander than your present abode.”
“No, I don’t,” Serena said. “Once I left Colorado I’ve never returned.”
“But who looks after your parents’ house and estate?” Wilkie asked.
“I had the house burned down before I left.”
“Burned,” Wilkie exclaimed in astonishment.
“Fire is indeed an excellent purifier after contagion,” Doctor Cheney said, “but I suspect burning the bed sheets would have sufficed.”
“What of your family’s timber holdings?” Wilkie asked. “I certainly hope you didn’t burn those as well.”
“I sold them,” Serena said. “It’s money better used here in North Carolina.”
“No doubt in a venture with Mr. Harris,” Doctor Cheney said, setting down his fork. “Despite his bluster he’s a crafty old fox, as I’m sure you ascertained when you met him.”
“I suspect Mrs. Pemberton can hold her own against Harris,” Wilkie said, and nodded at Pemberton. “And Pemberton too. I for one wish them well in any new ventures, whether it’s with Boston Lumber Company oranyone else. We need people with confidence right now, else we’ll never get out of this depression.”
Wilkie turned his attention back to Serena, and smiled widely, smitten as Harris had been when he’d met her. Unlike the swains in Boston, these older men seemed unintimidated by Serena. Their withered genitals made her charms less daunting, Pemberton suspected, kept at an untouchable distance.
“I’m sure you feel the same, Buchanan,” Doctor Cheney said, “in regard to the Pembertons’ possible partnership with Harris.”
Buchanan nodded, his eyes not on the physician or the Pembertons but the table’s center.
“Yes, as long as our own present partnership is not neglected.”
Except for the clink of silverware, the rest of the main course was eaten in silence. Pemberton did not wait for dessert and coffee but set his napkin on the table and stood up.
“Campbell’s left for the night so I’ll go tell Galloway of his promotion. That way he’ll be ready come morning,” Pemberton said, and turned to Serena. “I’ll meet you back at the house. I won’t be long.”
As he came into the office, Pemberton saw Campbell had left two letters on the desk, a Boston postmark on each.
Pemberton stepped off the porch into the summer evening. Fireflies winked as the sun settled behind Balsam Mountain. In the distance a whippoorwill called. Next to the dining hall a rusty fifty-gallon drum smoldered with supper’s detritus. Pemberton dropped the unopened letters into its fire and walked on. He stepped
Now, a year later, Pemberton again suggested Galloway be made a foreman, this time as Bilded’s replacement.
“It’s the most undisciplined crew in the camp,” Pemberton said between bites of his steak. “We need someone they’ll be afraid to buck.”
“What if he tries to buck us instead?” Buchanan asked. “Besides being a convicted murderer, he’s surly and disrespectful.”
“A crew won’t be laggards for a foreman they’re afraid of,” Serena said. “I would argue that’s more important than his lack of social graces.”
Buchanan was about to continue the argument when Wilkie raised a hand to silence him.
“Sorry, Buchanan,” Wilkie said, “but I’m siding with the Pembertons this time.”
“It appears Mr. and Mrs. Pemberton rule the day,” Doctor Cheney said, his tone becoming manneredly casual. “Your wife, Buchanan, I assume she plans to summer again in Concord?”
“Yes,” Buchanan said tersely.
“Perhaps you have similar plans to return to Colorado for the summer, Mrs. Pemberton?” Cheney asked. “I’m sure the family manse is much grander than your present abode.”
“No, I don’t,” Serena said. “Once I left Colorado I’ve never returned.”
“But who looks after your parents’ house and estate?” Wilkie asked.
“I had the house burned down before I left.”
“Burned,” Wilkie exclaimed in astonishment.
“Fire is indeed an excellent purifier after contagion,” Doctor Cheney said, “but I suspect burning the bed sheets would have sufficed.”
“What of your family’s timber holdings?” Wilkie asked. “I certainly hope you didn’t burn those as well.”
“I sold them,” Serena said. “It’s money better used here in North Carolina.”
“No doubt in a venture with Mr. Harris,” Doctor Cheney said, setting down his fork. “Despite his bluster he’s a crafty old fox, as I’m sure you ascertained when you met him.”
“I suspect Mrs. Pemberton can hold her own against Harris,” Wilkie said, and nodded at Pemberton. “And Pemberton too. I for one wish them well in any new ventures, whether it’s with Boston Lumber Company oranyone else. We need people with confidence right now, else we’ll never get out of this depression.”
Wilkie turned his attention back to Serena, and smiled widely, smitten as Harris had been when he’d met her. Unlike the swains in Boston, these older men seemed unintimidated by Serena. Their withered genitals made her charms less daunting, Pemberton suspected, kept at an untouchable distance.
“I’m sure you feel the same, Buchanan,” Doctor Cheney said, “in regard to the Pembertons’ possible partnership with Harris.”
Buchanan nodded, his eyes not on the physician or the Pembertons but the table’s center.
“Yes, as long as our own present partnership is not neglected.”
Except for the clink of silverware, the rest of the main course was eaten in silence. Pemberton did not wait for dessert and coffee but set his napkin on the table and stood up.
“Campbell’s left for the night so I’ll go tell Galloway of his promotion. That way he’ll be ready come morning,” Pemberton said, and turned to Serena. “I’ll meet you back at the house. I won’t be long.”
As he came into the office, Pemberton saw Campbell had left two letters on the desk, a Boston postmark on each.
Pemberton stepped off the porch into the summer evening. Fireflies winked as the sun settled behind Balsam Mountain. In the distance a whippoorwill called. Next to the dining hall a rusty fifty-gallon drum smoldered with supper’s detritus. Pemberton dropped the unopened letters into its fire and walked on. He stepped
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