“I think it’s time one of us does leave. Me. There’s something I have to do.”
Why does everyone have something to do all of a sudden?
“What is it?” She eyed his frayed pants and bare feet. How was Henry going to go anywhere? Didn’t his family need him working at the mill, same as the rest of the young people in the valley?
He looked over Briar’s shoulder. “Prove myself, I guess.”
“To whom? Me?” She felt her face going hot and was glad for the twilight. “I was angry about Wheeler is all. I shouldn’t have said what I did. You love it here. Don’t leave because of me.”
His gaze returned to hers. “Beautiful Briar.”
He’d said it without a hint of flirting, and Briar caught her breath.
“It’s something I have to do for my family. If we all continue the same thing that’s gone on before, nothing changes, right? I’ve watched you, Briar. I see how hard you work so those children won’t have to enter the mill too early, if at all. You’re making a difference for your family. It makes me think I can be the one who makes a difference for my family.” He took in a deep breath and gazed up into the hills. “Just because you love a place doesn’t mean you don’t ever feel stuck there.”
Briar shook her head. “Where will you go? Next town over? The next one? You already told me they’re all the same.” Henry wasn’t the type to feel stuck. Was he?
He laughed. “I did say that, didn’t I? Well, that means I’ll have to go farther then, maybe over the ocean to the Old Country where the Princes started out. Our old forest is now part of Germany. I’ll find my roots. Settle some old family debts.”
First Wheeler, then Nanny, and now Henry. Henry the dependable one. She had to convince him to stay. She couldn’t imagine what the valley would be like without him. “How are your parents to survive without your mill wages?”
Henry avoided her eyes. “They’ll be fine.”
“Who’s going to be my doffer if you go?”
He gave her a crooked smile. “I shouldn’t be doffing for you anyway, Bri.” He splayed his hands out. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m way too big to be climbing all over the frame, swapping out the bobbins. I have been for years, and it’s only slowing you down. You’ll see when you get a little one to help you.”
“But—”
“And I can tell another machinist how to fix your frame when it breaks. I don’t do anything special to keep it going. I just tweak it every time I doff.”
As twilight turned to dusk, he was left in shadow, a silhouette. He was taller, and his shoulders broader, more like a man’s than a boy’s. When did this happen? While she was watching Wheeler? All the other boys Henry’s age had moved on to other tasks at the factory long ago. It hadn’t occurred to Briar that being held back to help her would bother Henry.
“Besides, you have more options than you think, Bri. I know about that book you keep in your apron pocket. I know you have dreams. Why don’t you join the other girls in one of their Improvement Societies?”
Surprised, Briar absently touched her pocket and traced the edges of the book. So much had occurred since she got home, she’d forgotten to take off her apron. The slim book was a novel given to her by her teacher the day Briar left school to start work at the mill as a doffer with Henry and the others. Years later, she still hadn’t finished it. How does he know me so well?
“Not much time for learning when I get paid for doing.” Annoyed he’d found her sore spot, she changed the subject. “Nanny left without saying good-bye. Is this your good-bye?”
He shook his head. “I’ll need to make arrangements, so I can still walk you back into town after church tomorrow and then catch the train.”
Why did everyone keep leaving her? She tried hardening her heart to protect it.
“Don’t delay on my account. Good-bye, Henry Prince.” Briar spun around and marched down the lane. When she got to the corner, her still-tender heart battled her pride to look back. She turned but couldn’t see if he was still there. The way was too dark.
Chapter Five
Sunday morning, the boys woke Briar up early as they tried sneaking out of the house on their own. For all their effort, they were about as loud as the mail train pulling into town.
“Hurry,” Jack whispered loudly. “’Fore she wakes up.”
Briar opened one eye, but her back was to the boys. The other half of the bed she was in was empty and rumpled. Had Nanny been home, the sheets would have been made neat as a pin already. Judging by the amount of light, no one should be up and moving yet. Briar rolled over to see Pansy still asleep on the floor mat where she slept Saturday nights.
Carefully, she pushed herself off the bed and padded after the boys to the door.
“Where are you boys off to this early? We’ve got church today,” Briar whispered, stopping them by grabbing the necks of their shirts.