“Oh,” Briar said. They’d caught her by surprise, and she didn’t know how to answer. On the one hand, she had been enjoying being by herself. She was rarely alone. Living in a boardinghouse filled with girls granted no privacy. But on the other hand, a ride would get her home in a few minutes and she’d be rested up to play with the children before bed. The horses stamped their impatience while Briar decided what to do.
Nodding at the Princes, she said, “Yes, thank you.” She wheeled her bicycle to the side of the wagon and handed it to Mr. Prince, who had hopped into the back. Briar had never ridden in their wagon. She’d never actually spent any time alone with the reclusive Princes. Though she knew Henry as well as she knew this dirt road home, his parents were more like the mountains. A steady presence in the background.
The Princes weren’t rich by any standards, and their wagon looked like it had seen better days. Boards had been repaired, giving the vehicle a patchwork look of its own, although Briar could tell it was sturdy, rebuilt by a fine craftsman. Henry or his dad?
She climbed up the side of the wagon and sat beside Mrs. Prince.
After loading the bicycle in the back, Mr. Prince returned to his seat and clicked the horses forward.
“How are you, Briar?” asked Mrs. Prince. “We haven’t really spoken since Henry…since Henry left.”
Briar smiled. “I’m well, thank you.”
“Do you enjoy riding the safety bicycle?” Mrs. Prince craned her neck to look at it. “I’ve never tried one, but I can see the possibilities for a young girl such as yourself.”
“It’s easy once you practice and don’t have an audience of mill boys watching you and giving you their thoughts.”
Mr. Prince laughed.
“You look positively radiant with the exercise,” Mrs. Prince said. “Doesn’t she, darling?”
Mr. Prince nodded.
“Miss Olive encourages us to take care of our health.”
“She is a wise woman.”
They rode on in silence, and Briar suddenly wished she’d stayed on the bicycle. The clip-clop of the horses not in a hurry made her wonder if she was saving any time at all.
“How is your work at the mill?” asked Mrs. Prince.
Briar stopped fiddling with her bloomers, glad for something to talk about. “I’ve got a new little doffer named Maribelle. She’s not as fast as Henry was, but she’s a sweet thing and is learning. Fortunately, my spinning frames have finally started to cooperate, which makes life easier for all of us.”
“Even that frame Henry had such a time with?”
“He told you?” Briar shouldn’t be surprised. Henry was so open and honest, he probably told his folks everything.
“Yes. He says it’s the only frame like it in the whole building. Says the company should just replace it and start over. He thinks there is something wrong with it at its base. A crooked frame or something.”
Mrs. Prince cleared her throat. “But you say it’s working now? What made the difference?”
Briar’s face grew warm. “Maybe they changed the humidity in the room, so the threads aren’t breaking so much.” She wiped her hands on her knees. “Have you heard from Henry?” she asked, changing the subject. She wanted to hear he’d made it to Germany.
“That’s why we went to town,” Mrs. Prince said. “We were hoping for news. We got a letter from when he was in New York telling us he’d found a ship, but that’s the last we’ve heard.”
“Oh,” Briar said, her voice falling. “That was weeks ago. Did he say anything else?”
“No, it was a pretty short letter. I suspect the railroad strike might be slowing delivery.”
She sounded as disappointed and hungry for more news as Briar was.
“I don’t understand why he left,” Briar said. “He loves it here.”
Mrs. Prince sighed. “Yes, he does. But sometimes in life we make choices thinking we are doing the right thing, don’t we?”
Briar nodded. She was working hard to secure the children’s future and fulfill her mother’s dying wish. But the tone in Mrs. Prince’s voice suggested she didn’t approve of Henry’s leaving.
“Do you think he’s not doing the right thing?” Briar asked.
Mr. Prince grunted, and his wife patted his leg.
“We don’t know, Briar. He is trying something no one else in the family has done in a long time. His dad is a farmer, his grandfather was a farmer, his great-grandfather, you get the idea. They’ve all done the same thing. Tradition. Playing it safe. He was the first to get a mill job, so he has different ideas than past generations.” Again, she patted her husband’s leg. “Henry wanted to try something new. See if he could change the course for the Prince family even more.”
“I see,” Briar answered, even though she didn’t. More than anyone she knew, Henry was the one she least expected to go away. Seems like Mr. Prince should be the one to go to change the family’s lot. “What exactly is he doing? He didn’t really say.”
“He’ll tell us all about his adventure when he returns,” Mrs. Prince said.