The wind whipped at her thin cloak, causing Lilly to pull it tight. No one would ever suspect that a worthless mill girl could have such an agenda against the Associates, and that was just as Lilly would have it. As God would have it, too. After all, Lilly felt quite confident that her mission had come from the Almighty himself. God had given her the desire to see the land returned to its original beauty—to see the Associates refund the monies and farms they had so greedily consumed. True, it would be difficult at this stage to see the mills destroyed and the land returned to pastures and farms, but Lilly knew that with God all things were possible.
Days passed as she attempted to devise her method. Finally, in the middle of the night an idea wove itself in and out of her sleep-induced haze. When Lilly awakened, the plan was clear.
“You seem a million miles away,” Nadene said as the two finished making their bed.
“Hmm?” Lilly heard the words but scarcely registered them.
“Did you have a romantic dream?” Pru teased. “I did, and it was about that brother of yours.”
Those words snapped Lilly to attention. “Lewis is bad news. He lives only for himself. Mark my words, you’ll rue the day you met him.”
Pru danced away toward the door. “He said you’d be like this, but honestly, Lilly, you don’t have to worry about losing a brother.” She winked and added, “Maybe instead, you’ll gain a sister.” She didn’t wait for Lilly’s reply but instead glided out the door as though she were skating on a pond of ice.
“Silly girl,” Nadene remarked.
“More than silly. She’s truly daft if she thinks Lewis can bring her anything but pain.”
Pulling a brush through her crown of curls, Lilly returned to thoughts of her scheme. She made every attempt to find fault with the plan. She found none. Picking up Pru’s tortoiseshell mirror, Lilly momentarily stared at her reflection. Her hair, she decided, was acceptable and so was her idea.
Nadene and Lilly rushed down the stairs, grabbed their cloaks from the row of pegs near the entrance, and rushed out the front door toward the Appleton. By the time the breakfast bell rang two hours later, Lilly’s anticipation was rising to new heights. Feigning a problem with her machine, she urged Nadene to return home without her. Lagging behind until the room had emptied, Lilly picked up a piece of roving and held it to the flame of a whale-oil lamp hanging on the wall, then quickly threw the burning rope into a cart of roving that stood near the center of the room. Casting a glance over her shoulder as she left the room, Lilly nodded in satisfaction. The roving was beginning to smolder, and random flames were starting to lick along the edge of the cart.
Lilly hurried from the mill yard and down Jackson Street, finding herself out of breath when she finally arrived at the boardinghouse. The familiar smells of fried ham and biscuits greeted her as she pushed open the front door.
“Hurry, Lilly. I filled a plate for you,” Nadene called out.
Lilly seated herself and slowly began cutting the piece of ham. Chewing slowly, she broke apart one of the thick biscuits and began to slather it with butter. “Would you pass the jam, please?”
Nadene stared open-mouthed at her friend. “You don’t have time for jam. We need to leave in less than a minute, Lilly.”
A tiny smile played at the corner of Lilly’s lips. “If you insist,” she replied, rising from the chair as she continued nibbling at the biscuit. “I think I’ll finish this as we walk.”
Nadene scurried out of the room and was waiting at the front door, holding Lilly’s cloak. They were nearing the mill when they heard men and women screaming. Suddenly the tower bell began ringing. Nadene and Lilly glanced at each other, then began running toward the mill.
“Fire on an upper floor,” one of the men yelled.
Nadene seized the man’s arm. “Which floor?”
“Third—spinning room,” he replied without hesitation.
“N-o-o-o!” Nadene cried as she began running toward the mill.
Lilly stared after her friend in disbelief. “Nadene, where are you going?” she screamed. “Come back here!” Lilly broke into a run. Why was Nadene rushing toward the building? What could she be thinking? Nadene had already made her way through the crowd of operatives who had gathered closer to the mill. Lilly glanced up. Flames were evident through the glass windows. As she grew closer to the building, Lilly saw Nadene arguing with one of the men. He was shaking his head and had grasped her friend’s arm. Lilly watched in horror as Nadene broke loose from the man’s grip and raced into the stairwell. With wooden legs she moved onward until she reached the man. “Where is she? Why didn’t you stop her?” Lilly screamed.
The man looked at her, his face etched in disbelief. “I tried to stop her. I couldn’t follow her—I was ordered to stay here and prevent anyone else from entering the building.”
“Well, you didn’t do your job very well, did you?” Lilly condemned as she attempted to push past him.
He pulled her back. “Maybe not with your friend, but I won’t fail again. Now get back,” he ordered.
“She’ll die. I have to go after her,” Lilly argued, pushing at his arm as she attempted to go around him.
He grasped her shoulder and turned her away from the building. “No! Now get back.”
“Lilly! What are you doing? Get back from the building.”
Lilly turned to see Matthew running in her direction. “Nadene’s up there—she’s gone to the third floor. I must get her out. Please help me!” Lilly pleaded.
Matthew placed his arms around her. “If you’ll move away from the building, I’ll see what I can do. Give me your word that you won’t attempt to follow me.”
“I promise. Just please hurry,” she begged, moving away from the entryway.
She watched until Matthew was out of sight. What if he found Nadene . . . dead? What if he couldn’t find her at all? “Matthew will find her—he must. Surely the fire hasn’t spread enough to cause Nadene immense harm,” she murmured. The hollow words did little to calm the growing uneasiness that was seeping into her consciousness.
She strained forward, watching the stairwell. Two men exited the building and issued orders before rushing off toward some unknown destination. Lilly paced back and forth while maintaining a steadfast gaze toward the entryway. Would Matthew never return? Perhaps she should break through the guards and go search for Nadene herself. Head raised high and shoulders straight, Lilly approached the Appleton.
One of the men stood resolutely, with elbows bent as he rested his beefy hands on his hips. His lips tightened into a straight, determined line as she grew closer. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, moving directly in front of her.
Lilly attempted to ignore the man’s question and push her way through. Too soon she found it impossible to break his grasp. Shaking her arm, she gave him a frosty glare. “Turn me loose!”
“Not a chance,” he replied. “I was ordered to keep spectators out—you, in particular,” he added with a grin.
Lilly stomped her foot. “You turn me loose or you’ll answer to Matthew Cheever!”
“Really? Well, he’s the one who told me to keep you out of there,” the man replied while turning toward the burning building. “Besides, there’s Mr. Cheever now.”
Lilly swung her head toward the stairwell. Matthew was carrying Nadene’s lifeless body in his arms. “Lilly, come quickly,” he called out, never breaking his stride.
Lilly pushed past the men and ran at breakneck speed, her cape billowing open in the crisp breeze until she was finally alongside Matthew. “Is she . . .” The words stuck in her throat.
“No, but her breathing is shallow—there was a lot of smoke in the room. She’s unconscious and burned in several places. Let’s get her back to the boardinghouse. I’m hopeful she’ll come around, but I’m afraid she’s going to have some terrible scars. Would you carry that?” he asked, nodding toward the Bible lying atop Nadene’s soot-covered dress.
Lilly reached up and
gathered the book into her hands. “It was her grandmother’s Bible. Her mother gave it to Nadene when she moved to Lowell,” Lilly explained as she attempted to clean the stained leather cover with her dress. Words of wisdom and insight to the Scriptures were inscribed upon the pages—Nadene’s only link with her beloved grandmother. Of course she would walk through fire to retrieve it.
“I had to pry it from her hand. What was it doing in the spinning room, anyway? There are rules against reading at work,” Matthew challenged before breaking into a fit of coughing.
Lilly glared in response. “Rules? My friend is dying and you’re telling me about rules?”
Matthew glanced down at her. “Don’t overstate the situation in order to change the subject, Lilly. Nadene is injured, but she’s not going to die. We don’t permit reading or other activities at work because we want to prevent you girls from injury. And although her reading didn’t cause the fire, the fact that she ran back in the building was based solely upon the fact that she wanted to retrieve her Bible. Had the Bible been at home where it belonged, Nadene would be safe.”
“Or if the fire had never started,” Lilly murmured.
“The fire was an accident over which we had no control. Fires and textile mills are constant companions. The Bible, however, should not have been there. Nadene had control of that situation. If she had followed the rules, this accident could have been prevented. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Lilly nodded in acknowledgment. She longed to tell him he was the one who didn’t understand—that she alone was responsible for Nadene’s perilous situation. Yet she remained silent, lacking the courage it would take to speak the truth. Guilt wound around her heart like roving to a spindle.
“I sent one of the men to fetch Dr. Barnard. Try not to worry. The damage is minimal, and we should be back in operation by morning.”
He was obviously attempting to cheer her, but his words only made it more difficult for Lilly to bear. Nadene was injured, and she had failed in her mission. I should have waited until evening to start the fire, she thought. But having evaluated the prospect of remaining behind after the final bell, Lilly knew such a feat would have been impossible. Thaddeus Arnold was always the last one out of the room each evening, making sure the lamps were snuffed and the room was in proper order for the next morning’s work. He would never permit an operative in the spinning room after his own final departure. But at the breakfast and dinner bells, the man wasn’t nearly so cautious. Like the rest of them, he was anxious to rush home for his meal. Knowing she must protect the lives of those working in the mills, Lilly had hoped that the half-hour break would permit the fire adequate time to do its damage. She had been wrong.
She touched Matthew’s arm as they reached the front door of the boardinghouse. “If there was so little damage to the Appleton, how is it Nadene’s condition is so dreadful?” she inquired with her voice trembling.
“From all appearances, her cloak caught on fire, which caused the burns to her hands and arms. Smoke caused the remainder of her health problems. I’m guessing she became disoriented in the haze and couldn’t find her way out of the building.”
The front door opened. It was obvious Miss Addie had been watching for them, no doubt informed by some of the girls who had run ahead to explain the situation.
“Follow me, Matthew. We’ll put her in my bedroom. Dr. Barnard is waiting,” Addie instructed as she led the way to her room. “Put her on the bed—carefully, we don’t want to cause her undue pain.”
Matthew nodded his agreement before lowering Nadene onto the crisp white sheet. “I’ll leave her in your hands, Dr. Barnard. I must get back to the mill and then report to Mr. Boott.”
“Absolutely, Matthew. You’ve done all you can for the girl. Miss Addie and I will see to her care,” Dr. Barnard replied.
Lilly could no longer hold her emotions in check. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she viewed Nadene’s condition. Along one of Nadene’s arms angry red flesh appeared to be blistering, while the other was interspersed with purplish black wounds. Both hands were charred and blistered. The smell was unlike anything Lilly had ever known. She felt her stomach churn and knew she might very well lose the contents of her stomach.
Backing out of the room, Lilly fought the sensation of dizziness that threatened to send her to the floor. What have I done? Dear God, what have I done?
****
Matthew rushed back to the Appleton, relieved when he was met by a calm-looking Hugh Cummiskey. “We’ve got things here under control, Mr. Cheever,” Hugh reported. “The fire is out and once the smoke has cleared, work can begin.”
“How much damage?” Matthew inquired.
“None to the machinery or the building itself. A cart of roving is ruined. Other than that, nothing of consequence.”
Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to carry a report of extensive damage to his boss. “I’ll feel better if I take a look for myself before reporting to Mr. Boott. He may ask if I’ve seen the damage for myself.”
Hugh nodded in agreement. “No need to explain, Mr. Cheever. I understand.”
Matthew ascended the stairway and surveyed the room. Cummiskey was correct. There was little damage, and work could certainly resume by morning if not sooner. Already the unpleasant smell of smoke had subsided, and several men were cleaning soot from the machinery and floor. Satisfied there was nothing further needing his attention, he returned to the mill yard, where Cummiskey awaited him.
He gave Cummiskey a slap on the shoulder. “You were right, Hugh. Thank you for your valuable assistance,” Matthew said. Turning to the supervisor, he added, “Mr. Arnold, I’ll leave it to your discretion to determine when work can commence.” He then headed off toward Mr. Boott’s home. He disliked being the bearer of bad news, especially when it entailed production at one of the mills. But he doubted whether anyone else had rushed to inform Boott. After all, it wasn’t a pleasant task. He sounded the doorknocker, surprised when Boott himself answered the door.
“None of the help is around when you need them,” Kirk said as he ushered Matthew into his office. “What brings you here this time of day, Matthew?”
At Kirk’s invitation, Matthew seated himself. “I wanted to personally advise you there’s been a fire in the spinning room at the Appleton.” Kirk jumped up from his chair at the report. “Very little damage. We’ll be operational by morning. Perhaps earlier,” Matthew quickly added.
“Details—give me details, my boy,” Kirk insisted.
Matthew reported what little he could and awaited Kirk’s instructions.
“Of course, I’d like to know how the fire got started, but I doubt we’ll ever gain that piece of information. However, it appears we may need to take further safety precautions. Why don’t you and the supervisors meet and discuss future prevention. You can report your ideas to me, and then we can make a final decision on implementation.”
Matthew agreed, pleased that their meeting had been brief and Mr. Boott had remained calm. “I’ll report back to you by Friday,” Matthew said as they walked onto the expansive front porch.
“Friday will be fine. I almost forgot—Isabelle, Neva, and several other relatives are arriving on Friday. I promised them a tour of the Appleton. They find this industrialization process difficult to fathom without actually seeing for themselves. Once they get inside, I’m certain they won’t want to remain for long. I told Isabelle I would have you take charge of the tour. I hope you don’t mind. There’s no hurry, for I think I’ve convinced Neva to remain in Lowell until after the holidays. And, of course, we’ll expect you to join us for dinner Saturday evening.”
“Certainly. I’ll be pleased to escort them through the mill,” Matthew replied. He knew there was no other acceptable answer.
****
Soon after Matthew had placed Nadene upon the bed, the cool, fresh air from Addie’s bedroom window, along with the vinegar Dr. Barnard had placed under her nose, rendered Nadene consciou
s. With Nadene’s awakening, her pain was clearly evident. Lilly couldn’t bear to watch the ministrations as Addie and Dr. Barnard separated Nadene’s fingers. Her friend’s hands resembled two giant spiderwebs by the time Dr. Barnard secured the splints and bandages. Lilly had followed Dr. Barnard’s directions and mixed a salve of linseed oil and limewater and then quickly exited the room, offering to complete Addie’s household chores.
While Lilly began paring potatoes for the evening meal, Nadene’s moans cut through the afternoon silence of the boardinghouse. Lilly began humming, then singing aloud, hoping she could drown out the sounds of her friend’s misery, along with her own guilt. When that didn’t work, she began to pray—first for Nadene’s healing, then for her own forgiveness. She wasn’t sure if it was answered prayer or the fact that Dr. Barnard had completed his treatment, but Nadene’s moans finally ceased. Although her own feelings of guilt had not completely diminished, Lilly knew she was forgiven for the part she had played in Nadene’s injuries. Along with that forgiveness came the awakening realization that her behavior had been for the fulfillment of her own selfish desires rather than at God’s direction.
Your sinful behavior is not from God, a small voice seemed to whisper to her consciousness.
“I know, Lord,” she whispered. “Look what I’ve done in the name of righteous justice.” She closed her eyes, hoping she wouldn’t cry. But she was unsuccessful, and giant tears wet her thick dark lashes before tumbling down her cheeks. How could I have been so wrong—so blind to the pain I might cause? I thought you’d given me a mission, but I’ve messed things up so badly.
“Are you salting the potatoes with those tears?” Addie asked as she placed her arm comfortingly around Lilly’s shoulder.
Lilly sniffed and attempted a smile. “How’s Nadene?”
“She’s resting. Dr. Barnard gave her some paregoric. You better get back over to the mill. If they’ve started up production, Mr. Arnold will expect you to be there no matter what Nadene’s condition. Don’t you worry. I’ll be able to hear Nadene if she awakens.”
Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) Page 21