Hearts and Harvest

by Amber Stockton

  William stood in front of her and held out his plate at the last station in the food line. She normally worked closer to the center. Today she hoped it would work to her advantage.

  “What news?” William asked, his eyes appearing to pick up on her enthusiasm.

  “About the Pullman strike.”

  It had been two weeks since their afternoon on Belle Isle, but her work had kept her too busy to follow up on their conversation since that day. Perhaps today would be better.

  She placed a rather large slice of berry pie on his plate. It was hard to believe he wasn’t aware of the outcome of the strike. Even with his limited exposure out here in the fields, he always seemed to have extensive knowledge about current events.

  Two lines formed on his brow as he drew his eyebrows closer together. “No, I haven’t. Has there been another development?”

  Annabelle looked at the next person in line. She’d love more than anything to stand and talk with him, but other workers needed to be served. With a quick glance behind her then back at William, she made an attempt at nonverbal communication.

  It took a second or two, but understanding dawned on his face, and he nodded. “Pardon me,” he said to the worker waiting next to him. “I’ll be out of your way in just a moment.”

  William stepped to the end of the table and selected a patch of dirt about five feet away. Annabelle served pie to the worker in front of her.

  “Enjoy,” she said with a smile as he took his plate and left.

  William crossed his legs like an Indian and settled his plate on his knees. It hadn’t been all that difficult to persuade him to stay and talk. He could have just taken his meal and left. Obviously she hadn’t imagined his interest that afternoon on the island. As he took his first bite, she continued to serve.

  “So tell me,” he said after swallowing a bite of beef. “What is this splendid news you have to share about the strike?”

  She glanced from the corner of her eye but maintained her focus on the workers. “Well, you know the results of the strike during this recession and how it affected transportation west of Chicago.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he replied as he took another bite.

  “Mr. Debs and the American Railway Union have tried hard to sustain their momentum.”

  “Yes, and they even resorted to violence in order to achieve their goal. At least supporters did,” he added.

  She’d read the horrific reports of some of the tactics used. The obstruction of tracks and walking off the job was one thing, but attacking those who broke the strike and setting fire to buildings was quite another. Those who continued to work were only looking out for their own interests. They didn’t deserve to be treated cruelly for that.

  “I don’t understand how the loss of life would help aid their cause. If anything, I’d think it would cause more complications.”

  “Well, sometimes people don’t always think before they act.” He took a long gulp of water. “Sometimes their ultimate goal makes them blind to the pain they might cause by acting on their passions.”

  “I wish they could somehow achieve their goals without all the violence.”

  “That’s how we eventually end up with wars.”

  “This is true.” Annabelle sighed. Only in a perfect world would violence cease to exist. As long as men were left to their own devices, hostility and bloodshed were sure to be the end result.

  “You were going to tell me about the recent news.”

  “Oh my! You’re absolutely right.” How could she have gotten so off track?

  William chuckled and speared a forkful of vegetables. “It’s all right. But if you don’t share this exciting report, I might be forced to seek my information elsewhere.”

  Annabelle turned her head to catch sight of the grin William tossed her way and the teasing gleam in his brown eyes.

  “Very well.” She pursed her lips. “Now, where did I leave off?” She honestly couldn’t recall.

  “I believe you had mentioned something about the strike workers doing what they could to maintain their momentum.”

  “Ah yes. Two days ago, I overheard Father and Mother talking. It seems the strike has now collapsed, and the plant has reopened.”

  “What about the workers who went on strike?”

  “I believe Father said they’re now in jail. Something about ignoring an injunction that forced them to cease their activities or risk being fired.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Injunction? That means the company must have managed to secure counsel on their behalf.”

  Leave it to William to understand the procedures and have a better grasp on the details than she. Annabelle tried hard to remember what Father had said. Perhaps she could impress him with that.

  “Yes, and President Cleveland actually stepped in to send in the army and a U.S. marshal, saying something about the strike interfering with the delivery of the United States mail.”

  “Oh, you know, I hadn’t thought about that.” William rubbed his fingers over his chin. “But I can see how that would be the case.” He grinned. “I mean, you can’t stop the mail service. That alone should be a federal offense,” he said with a wink over the rim of his cup as he took a drink.

  Annabelle planted one fist on her hip. “You’re teasing again, aren’t you?”

  He laughed. “Yes, Miss Lawson, I am. But that doesn’t take anything away from the fact that you have paid excellent attention to the developments of late and provided sound information.” Then he sobered and nodded toward the other side of the table.

  She turned back around, pleased. Her memory hadn’t failed her, and William was indeed impressed.

  “Can I have two pieces?” asked the young lad in front of her. He couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen, and that meant he had a healthy appetite, too.

  “Of course.” Annabelle served the boy and glanced down at the thinning line. Only a few more minutes and they’d start the cleanup process. There was more than enough pie left. Maybe she’d even save a second piece for William as well.

  “You know, you have just the right disposition for something like this.”

  His remark took her by surprise. Was that a compliment?

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way you respond to the workers and those who make special requests,” he explained. “You return the right amount of kindness and generosity that keeps folks coming back for more.”

  She fought hard not to look at him or react in any significant manner. He certainly had made a sudden about-face regarding his treatment of her. If she had to pinpoint the moment it happened, she’d never succeed.

  “And you’re persistent, too,” he added. “Especially with folks who can be a bit stubborn.”

  Annabelle had to strain to hear that last part. He spoke it under his breath, and from the way he ducked his chin to look at the ground, she had no doubt he was referring to himself.

  “Mother would say I come by it honestly,” she replied in an attempt to put him at ease. “Father would say it’s all part of my charm.”

  “I might be inclined to agree.”

  She started to respond, but he didn’t give her a chance.

  “This pie is delicious.” He held up his fork with a rather large piece of pie sitting atop it, but he didn’t quite meet her eyes.

  Annabelle couldn’t tell if he was attempting to cover up the remark he made about her charm or if he didn’t consider the remark anything out of the ordinary. She didn’t have much experience with men. Today she wished she did. Being able to interpret hidden meanings might make this conversation easier.

  She heard the scrape of fork on plate and looked down to see that he’d just finished the pie.

  “Would you like another piece?” She pointed at the table then reached for one of the two pies remaining, holding it up for him to see. “There is plenty here. And I certainly don’t intend to consume the leftovers.”

  William paused as his gaze traveled from her face to her feet and u
p again. Her cheeks warmed at his open admiration and perusal. In fact, if she didn’t miss her guess, he actually approved.

  “Mr. Berringer?”

  Her father’s voice startled her. How long had he been standing there? Not long enough to have witnessed William’s bold and obvious assessment of her appearance, she prayed.

  William presented the picture of calm control as he stood and set his empty plate on the table next to Annabelle then shifted his attention to Mr. Lawson.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Could you tell me where your father is? I’d like to speak with him for a few moments.”

  “Um, I believe he and my mother are eating with Jacob over at our plot.”

  “Excellent. Thank you.” Father nodded then turned toward her.

  She held her breath, wondering what he might say and praying it wouldn’t be asking her to leave her place to help Mother.

  “Annabelle, you did a fine job today. I know the workers,” he said with a quick glance at William, “appreciate your dedication.”

  Exhaling, she relaxed a little. He could have said a lot more, especially where William was concerned. Annabelle said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn’t.

  As Father stepped away toward the main fields, he again gave her a pointed look. “Will you be ready to accompany me home when I return?”

  Only clearing and wiping down the tables remained. “Yes, I should be.”

  “Very good. Then I shall make a point to stop here before leaving.”

  She and William both watched her father head away from them. No doubt about it. Father had observed the exchange between William and her prior to announcing his presence. He didn’t have to come out and say it. She could tell. And if she didn’t miss her guess, there would be a conversation about it later.

  “Well, I didn’t expect to see your father here. Do you know the topic of that conversation?”

  Annabelle hoped it wasn’t a direct result of what Father might have witnessed between William and her. On the contrary, she prayed it was because Father had found a lead or two in the business world for Mr. Berringer.

  “I’m not certain,” she said truthfully. “He did seem rather intent on finding your father, though.”

  “Miss Lawson,” William began, pivoting to face her. “Do allow me to apologize for anything I might have said or done that could be improper.”

  He obviously had seen the same thing she had from her father. Why else would he be asking for her forgiveness? Had he done anything wrong? She didn’t think so.

  “There is no need for a confession or defense of your actions, Mr. Berringer,” she said softly. “But if it helps ease your mind, your apology is accepted.”

  “Thank you.” He visibly relaxed.

  Annabelle understood his trepidation. Her father could be a rather intimidating man when he wanted to be. It only endeared William to her more to see how much he respected her father and how eager he was to clear his conscience or make certain he was held in high esteem in her eyes.

  “Now,” he said, smacking his hands together. “How can I help?”

  ❧

  The soft murmur of voices traveled into the front hallway as Annabelle made her way toward the sitting room. Just as she’d predicted, Father wanted to speak with her. During the carriage ride home from the potato patches, he’d asked her to join him for a meeting before dinner. He made it clear Mother would be present as well.

  Whatever they had to say, she prayed it wouldn’t be something she didn’t want to hear. But first she had to face her parents. There were a lot of possibilities, and only one way to find out.

  Before she stepped into view, she took a deep breath and willed her heart to settle down to a more even pace.

  “Ah good,” Mother announced as soon as Annabelle walked into the room. “Please, dear, come take a seat and join us.”

  Well, she didn’t sound upset. That had to be a good sign. In fact, she actually sounded quite pleased.

  Annabelle’s feet sunk into the woven carpet as she headed straight for her favorite settee. By all appearances, her parents were giving her no reason to be concerned. Each of them sat in wingback chairs opposite her and presented the image of relaxation. Father leaned back in the chair and rested his hands on the arms. Mother tucked her legs underneath her with her hands folded in her lap. When neither of them said anything, Annabelle swallowed and wet her lips.

  Finally, Father spoke.

  “Before we get to the primary reason for asking to speak with you, your mother and I want to make it clear that we are more than pleased with the work you’ve done at the fields.”

  “Yes,” Mother added. “In fact, your selfless acts of service have gone far to ensure the continual high spirits of the workers.”

  “Compared to reports from other plots, the productivity levels from that area of the city have even caught the attention of the mayor.”

  Annabelle didn’t know how to respond. They made it clear that complimenting her wasn’t the purpose of this conversation. She appreciated the fact that they made it a point to begin with that, though. Still, anticipating what might come next made her heart race again. If that didn’t give away her nervousness, her erratic breathing would.

  Father again resumed control. “Now, for the matter at hand.”

  A matter? Annabelle shifted her legs to cross her left ankle over her right. She slowly smoothed her hands on the folds of her skirt. It helped absorb the dampness of her palms as she awaited Father’s next words.

  “Annabelle, you know your mother and I only want the best for you. But before we present several opportunities to you, there is something we must know.”

  First there was a matter. Now they had a question about that matter. Then they had an opportunity for her? Just where were her parents heading with all this?

  Father leaned forward and clasped his hands together, resting his forearms on his knees. “You came to me a few weeks ago asking that I make a few inquiries on behalf of the Berringer family. As a result, we suggested you invite them to join us for a picnic on Belle Isle.”

  Ah, so that invitation had been extended for more than mere socializing. They were looking to learn more about the Berringer family. Well, at least the day had been a good one—even if her parents had ulterior motives.

  “But it has come to our attention that a good portion of your time is spent in the company of the eldest Berringer son.”

  Annabelle shouldn’t be too surprised to see the focus on William. The thought had crossed her mind earlier near the end of lunch. She just didn’t think it would be treated in such a serious manner. They hadn’t done anything untoward.

  “With that in mind,” Father continued, “we’d appreciate your honesty in answering the following question.”

  She knew what was coming, but she wasn’t sure she could provide an answer that would satisfy her parents.

  “What are your feelings regarding William Berringer?”

  Annabelle opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She swallowed twice and tried to gather her thoughts. Considering William more than a friend had only been a viable option as of their visit to Belle Isle. Now her parents expected her to make sense of her feelings and put them into words?

  “Annabelle, dear,” Mother interjected, breaking the silence. She narrowed her eyes and peered into her daughter’s face. “Do you simply not know how you feel?”

  Clearing her throat, Annabelle tried again. “Father, Mother, I must confess. Up until today, Mr. Berringer and I had been nothing more than friends. Other than attending the baseball game, nearly every one of our conversations has centered around his anger for what had happened to his family or where he stood in his faith.”

  “And now?” Father pressed.

  “Now?” She wet her lips again. “Now I don’t know. I admit that I’m attracted. Any more than that, I don’t believe I can say for certain.”

  There. She might not have given them the response they sought, but she
had been honest.

  Several moments passed as Father and Mother exchanged silent communication with each other. Father angled his body toward Mother and raised his eyebrows. Mother nodded in response. Annabelle sat in silence, awaiting what felt like a sentencing, even if she knew that was a rather substantial exaggeration.

  Finally, Father returned to his original position. “It’s clear to us that you have been nothing less than honest, and for that we are grateful.” His expression brightened then, and he again sat back in his seat. “Now that we have that settled, we’re faced with the issue of your social activities with eligible men.”

  Her heart fell, and her shoulders dropped. She should have known this conversation would present itself again. And on the heels of asking her about William, it made perfect sense. Her parents wanted her to pursue other relationships.

  Mother sat up straighter, eagerness replacing the previous concern. “We have been speaking with several of our friends and believe we’ve found several young men we’d like you to meet. Each one of them is quite poised to assume solid positions either in their father’s footsteps or in a venture they’ve begun on their own.”

  She wished she could muster up a bit more excitement in response to this announcement. Although she couldn’t say for certain where she and William stood, she wasn’t eager to pursue a relationship or possible romantic entanglement with someone new. Nevertheless, her parents had gone to all the trouble on her behalf. As their daughter, she owed them her respect and cooperation. And that’s exactly what she’d give.

  “Is there anything you’d like to say in response?”

  Annabelle took a deep breath. “Well, I must confess that this comes as a surprise today. I have no doubt that you do have my best interests at heart,” she added with a soft smile. Best to do what she could to set them at ease. “I am, after all, eighteen.”

  “A fact that hasn’t been lost on us, I assure you,” Father said, his voice a mixture of remorse and pride.

  “Be that as it may, I’m well aware that my friends are all married or engaged or headed in that direction. I’m just grateful you were more patient than other parents regarding any arrangements.”