Spindle

by Shonna Slayton

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Briar looked behind and saw the flames leaping out of the spinning room, but that wasn’t where Prudence’s gaze was focused. She was fixed on Fanny, who by now was carrying Jack. Briar hefted Benny to a better position on her hip. Why is Prudence so intent on Fanny? If Fanny were to get in trouble for any of what had taken place, Briar would be the first one to defend her. If it weren’t for Fanny, who knew what would have become of the children when Prudence left so suddenly?

  As the last of the sharp briar branches fell to the ground, Henry and Miss Olive were released. Henry, scratched and bleeding from the briars, rushed to take Benny. “Hey there, buddy. You okay?”

  Benny coughed, but nodded that he was okay. “Fire.” He wrapped his arms around Henry and squeezed hard.

  “And you?” Henry asked Briar. He pulled Benny’s arm to loosen the boy’s grip around his neck, then reached for Briar. He tipped her chin, his gaze searching hers. “Are you all right? When I lost my grip on your hand I was afraid I’d lost you, too.”

  She smiled at him with nothing but love and hope in her heart. “It’s over. I don’t think you’ll find a spindle in those ashes. Isodora intended for me to prick my finger again, but she fell onto her own spindle and it pierced through to her heart.”

  “It’s not over at all.” Henry looked very serious.

  Confused, Briar glanced back at the mill, angry flames bursting out of broken windows.

  Henry shifted Benny to his hip, and put his arm around her. Dipping his head close to hers, he said, “I want you to know that we are just beginning. We’re not even close to being over, ever.” He kissed her forehead, then transferred Benny into her arms.

  Briar’s heart fluttered. Henry Prince. Who would have thought? Her cheeks warmed, but not from the fire as she watched him run to the mill fire station to sound the alarm.

  “Let’s go quickly,” Prudence said, waving everyone over to her. “The fog is lifting and Henry is calling in help. We shouldn’t be here when they arrive.”

  “Can’t you stop the fire?” asked Briar.

  “Fire is not under our control. The townspeople will need to take care of this.”

  They hurried down the quiet street when the clanging of bells sounded out in the stillness. Ting, ting, ting, ting, trying to wake the whole town. Fires were serious business and a mill fire was dangerous.

  Once inside, Miss Olive turned on one of the parlor lights, and at first, they all stood in a circle looking at one another.

  “Sit down,” directed Miss Olive. “I already had some tea brewing. Be right back.”

  The two other fairies gathered in whispered conversation near the piano. Briar chose the long sofa and the children all piled up around her. Pansy sat so close to Briar she might as well have sat in her lap. “I flew,” she whispered. “In the wind, with Miss Fanny.” Her face shone with excitement.

  “What was it like?” Briar whispered back.

  “It was like being on a cloud.” Pansy thought for a moment. “Do you think she’ll take me flying again?”

  Briar examined the straight back, narrowed eyebrows, and pinched lips of Prudence as she listened to Fanny’s enthusiastic telling of what went on in the spinning room.

  “No, darling. I think that was it. Store up the memory in your heart so you can tell your own daughter one day.” Like Mam told us. Briar shook her head. Oh, the questions she had for her mam.

  Miss Olive came in with a cup of tea and handed it to her. The cup rattled in the saucer as Briar took it. Now that she was safe, the shock of it all was overwhelming. In the moment, one does what needs to be done, but anything could have happened in that room. To the boys, to her.

  “They told us how flammable the room was, but I had no idea it could catch fire so fast.”

  Miss Olive nodded. “And you got everyone out. Your mam would have been quite proud of the woman you are becoming.”

  Briar gasped, her heart warming at the thought of her mother’s approval. “You knew her?”

  “We spoke once. When she first started at the mill and shared with me her concern that you’d have to join her. And you did. And now you have fulfilled her wishes for you.”

  But she hadn’t. She had no home for the children, and no way to keep them together. Prudence didn’t need to protect any girl in Sunrise Valley anymore, so they were on their own. Maybe the Princes could take the children now that the spindle was gone. She’d ask them next time she saw them.

  Jack interrupted by patting Briar’s arm. “I wanna watch them put out the fire an’ see the fire wagon come. May I go back?”

  “No, you curious thing,” she said with a smile, happy that she’d thought of another way to keep the children together. “You’ll want to join right in and carry a bucket.”

  “Can I?” Jack’s face lit up at the idea. “Please, Bri? I want to make sure Henry is okay.”

  “Let’s watch on the porch.” Briar was worried about Henry, too. He would want to go to the exact location where the fire started to make sure the spindle was gone. He’d need to know he and his family really were free.

  By the time Briar and the children had gotten to the door, a flood of boardinghouse girls in their nightclothes came streaming down the stairs, all blurry-eyed and wanting to know what was going on.

  “Was that the fire bell?”

  “What’s happening?”

  Miss Olive came in to restore order. “Listen. Listen, girls. Our mill has caught fire. But don’t you worry. You are all safe here. I’m sure they’ll have it out in no time.”

  “Fire!” The flood of girls continued out the door, pushing Briar and the children outside with them.

  The dancing orange glow stood out against the dark sky. There were distant shouts and clangs from the horse-drawn fire wagons. All the boardinghouses up the road had their doors open and the mill operatives spilling out of them to see what was going on.

  Miss Olive wouldn’t let her girls get closer. She stood on the street with her arms open and waving her charges back into the yard. “Stay put. You can see just fine from here.”

  “Briar! You’re back,” someone called out, noticing her standing with the children. Quickly, the mill girls gathered around her. “Are you feeling better?”

  “Completely healed,” she said, glancing at Miss Olive.

  “Look at that,” said Lizbeth as there was a distant crash and a flare of orange. “There go our jobs.”

  “We can move to the new mill,” said someone. “They’ll take us since we don’t need training.”

  Ethel shrugged. “We can check with the other factories in town first. Shame to leave all our friends.” She smiled at Briar and Mim.

  Briar smiled back, watching the fire reflected in her friends’ faces. They’d grown so close these last few weeks together. She couldn’t even imagine the hole they would leave behind if they moved to Burlington. She squeezed in between them and tucked her arms in theirs.

  Briar no longer wanted to leave Sunrise Valley. She wanted to be near her family and the three fairies. And Henry. She rested her head on Ethel’s shoulder. But with the spindle gone, there wasn’t reason for any of the fairies to stay in the valley. What would they do next? The Prince family? Would they all leave? Briar still didn’t know what was going to happen to the children.

  “You okay?” Ethel asked.

  “I will be,” Briar answered. Her whole life could change now that she’d decided she didn’t want it to.

  By the time the sun rose, the fire was under control. The main building was a loss, but the surrounding outbuildings had been saved.

  The boys had done their best to stay awake, but after Miss Olive brought them blankets, they each found a cozy spot in the parlor and fell asleep, much to the amusement of the mill girls.

  With no work that day, the operatives set out to find word on employment in Burlington or to enjoy a rare day of relaxation. Several took turns using the bicycle to wheel to the mill and back with reports
on the progress of the firefighters.

  Briar was exhausted but fought to stay awake until she heard from Henry. The latest news was that the fire was out, but still he didn’t come. She watched scores of men walk by, their faces blackened by smoke and ashes, but still no Henry.

  The boys woke and wanted to play games in the parlor, so Briar propped open the front door to keep an ear out while she kept watch out on the porch. By the laughter she knew the boys were having a grand time playing Tiddledy Winks, and the mill girls were won over by their adorableness.

  Jack came outside, bouncing. “Briar, they telled me I should be a candy boy and they would buy all their sweets from me.” He grinned wide. “But then Benny said I would eat it all myself, and I think he might be right. It would be hard for a fella to watch someone else eat all that candy and not take one or two for hisself.”

  “You would make a fine candy boy.”

  “I’ll tell Benny you said that.” And off he went, back into the parlor.

  Finally, Henry came ambling down the road, soot-covered and looking more like a coal miner than a mill worker. Briar relaxed her clenched hands, relieved he was okay and she could see it for herself.

  He had something wrapped up in his hand, and he wasn’t smiling.

  No. The spindle couldn’t have survived. As much as Briar wanted things to stay the same, she didn’t want that. She stood and braced herself for the worst.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Briar craned her neck to see what shape the wrapped bundle was, but when Henry got closer, he hid it behind his back.

  Her heart sank. Their family wasn’t free after all. She rose and went to meet him. The Prince family was able to guard the spindle for hundreds of years. They would continue to do so. And now that she knew the secret, she could help.

  Henry stopped to talk with Fanny, who, after checking up on the boys, had gone down the steps ahead of Briar to join Miss Olive and Prudence who were talking across the road.

  When Henry saw Briar, he smiled.

  “What happened in there?” she asked, being obvious about trying to see behind his back; he being just as obvious about blocking her view.

  “We managed to save all but the one building. It could have been a lot worse.” He sounded tired and not at all victorious as she’d expected.

  “What’s behind your back?”

  Before he could answer, Miss Olive interrupted. “You are all invited out to the country, courtesy of Miss Fanny. She says she needs the help eating all the goodies the neighbors brought to her house.” She turned to Henry, “Would you get the wagon for us, please?”

  “I’ll show you later,” he whispered to Briar, mustering up a smile before jogging back down the road.

  With several whoops, the girls ran inside to grab their bonnets.

  “I’ll go get Ethel,” Mim said. “It’d do her some good.” She followed the others inside.

  “And I’ll gather the children,” Briar said, curious about when “later” would be.

  By the time everyone filed back out to the street, Henry was there with his wagon, and he’d recruited George with another wagon to fit more girls.

  George offered a hand to each girl as she climbed up in the back, but when Mim walked out with Ethel, he abandoned his post and jogged up to her with a silly grin.

  “This way, ladies,” he said with a wide, sweeping gesture to his wagon. In return, Mim flashed him her best smile and looped her arm through his.

  Ethel and Briar exchanged a look.

  “You go with Henry,” Ethel said. “I’ll take this wagon and keep an eye on them.”

  Briar hopped up on the wagon beside Henry. “What about the three ladies over there?” Fanny, Miss Olive, and Prudence were having a strong discussion across the street and out of earshot of the boardinghouse.

  Henry shrugged. “I think they can get back to the cottage on their own.”

  Fanny looked over and met Briar’s gaze. She smiled and nodded once as if she’d heard.

  Briar turned back to Henry. “You’ll have to tell me all you know about them.”

  “I don’t know much, but I can guess what they are talking about now.”

  “The future?”

  Henry nodded. “But I have no idea what they will decide.”

  “What about the mill? All these girls are out of work.”

  He smiled. “I heard there was an anonymous pledge to cover the cost of rebuilding. Some wealthy German investors, I believe. It shouldn’t take too long to be up and running again. Those who can’t wait can move on if they wish. It’s not so terrible to leave the valley. It’s a beautiful world out there, too.”

  The mill girls sang songs all the way, giving the ride a festive air. Briar wanted to ask Henry about the spindle, but she couldn’t press him because then the girls would wonder.

  She didn’t want any more secrets between them and she didn’t think he did, either. She watched his profile as he stared out over the valley, giving it that Henry look.

  He turned and caught her staring. He wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed. Henry Prince.

  These feelings she could trust. Henry was true.

  At the cottage, the girls spread out, playing with the animals and hiking in the woods. After Henry washed up, Briar tried to corner him about the bundle he was hiding.

  “Later,” was all he said, jerking his chin at all the people gathered around.

  When it was nearing time to eat, Briar tried to go inside to help serve, but Pansy took her hand and led her out back to check on the bunny.

  “We were gone all night and the animals missed us. They need to see you, too. They want to know you are healed.”

  It sounded like an excuse one of the boys would make to get Briar’s undivided attention, so she played along. Maybe Pansy was overwhelmed with all that had happened, and now all the people invading their home. Briar could give her a quick bit of quiet and attention. “I feel great, Pansy. Almost like I was never sick. Don’t you worry.”

  Pansy had knelt down and was petting the bunny, but kept looking over her shoulder like she wanted to join the gathering in the cottage.

  “We can go back, if you think you’re missing out on something,” Briar said, confused by Pansy’s mixed messages.

  “No, a few minutes more,” Pansy insisted.

  Briar found a Solomon’s Seal plant growing near Fanny’s garden patch. She plucked it and tucked it into her Newport knot.

  Henry sidled up next to her and bowed. “Your presence is requested in the cottage.” He gallantly held out his arm and winked at Pansy.

  Pansy raced ahead and disappeared around the corner.

  “Alone as last,” Briar said, looping her arm through his. “Now will you tell me what happened with the spindle?”

  “It’s gone,” he said. “No trace of it or Isodora.”

  Briar was confused. “But I saw you bring something from the mill. If not the spindle, what was it?”

  “Be patient. I’ll show you soon.” He dropped his arm and guided her ahead of himself into the cottage.

  “Surprise!” yelled everyone. “Happy Birthday.” Miss Fanny stepped forward with the cake Mrs. Clover had made for her.

  Briar held her hands up to her mouth. She was seventeen. She was alive.

  “Now we can finally eat this cake,” Jack said.

  While everyone was busy eating, Prudence took Briar aside. “The ladies and I have come to a decision. Fanny is to be your new caretaker until the children no longer need one.”

  Briar looked up to see Fanny watching. Fanny grinned and waved.

  “Is this acceptable to you?” Prudence noticed Fanny’s enthusiasm and frowned.

  Briar stifled a laugh. “She has done well with the children. It is acceptable. Where will you go?”

  Prudence raised an eyebrow in answer.

  Reminded that fairy business was not her business, Briar lowered her eyes and smiled. Prudence had cared for them, more than she herself realized, and th
at was something to treasure. “Thank you. For taking us in when you did.”

  “You are welcome, Briar Rose.”

  The mill girls were made as comfortable as possible for a sleep out under the stars. Briar walked Henry to the road so he could go home. His rough hand in hers a reminder of the changes in her life.

  “What a day, Miss Briarly Rose Jenny. Do you realize your courage has redeemed my family’s future?”

  “Wasn’t my courage, it was instinct to protect the boys.”

  “Call it instinctual courage, then, but it’s one of the things I love about you.”

  She grinned, feeling the praise down to her toes. Her heart, once so torn apart, was whole again. All the people she cared about were here. They were safe. She pulled out the spindle’s silk cloth from her pocket and wiped a mark of soot on Henry’s cheek. “You missed a spot.”

  He reached up and stilled her hand. “I didn’t know you had the cloth. Do you know what it is?”

  “It came with the spindle. Fanny told me it would help protect me.”

  “More than that, it’s a piece cut from Aurora’s baby blanket. Dad told me to always keep the spindle wrapped up inside. I suspect one of the fairies did something to it.”

  “I’m starting to suspect those ladies of a lot of things.”

  Briar folded the cloth and put it back in her pocket, impatiently waiting for Henry to show her what he brought back from the mill. Did he have bad news or good news for her?

  The fireflies blinked their lights against the dark, while the chatter of the mill girls floated over from near the garden, the children’s laughter floating louder and higher. And right in front of her was Henry Prince. Incorrigible, dependable, noble Henry Prince. So many people to love in this valley. She never wanted to leave.

  “About the spindle,” he said.

  She stopped walking. “Yes?”