“I don’t know what to say. I’m amazed at how much you’ve accomplished.”
Koby stood in the corner of the room stirring the sap.
Adam reached out his hand toward the boy. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you properly for what you’ve done, young man.”
Koby shook his hand and cracked a smile. “It’s better than working for the old crow at the factory—”
“Koby!” Lidia’s eyes widened.
“Well, it’s true.” The boy went back to stirring the hot liquid in slow, circular strokes. “She’s not exactly the friendliest overseer in the world.”
“She’s always been good to us, Koby, and you know it.”
Adam paused, confused. “You work in one of the factories?”
Lidia played with the folds of her skirt and nodded.
Why should he be surprised? A majority of immigrants worked in the factories. Adam swallowed hard, realizing for the first time that their sacrifice to help him ran far deeper than just the physical strain involved. “They’ll fire you for this.”
“Probably.” She bit her lip.
Koby took a step toward him. “Trust me, it’s no great loss, Mr. Johnson. There are other factories looking for workers, unless you’d like to hire us for the rest of the season. There’s plenty of work that could be done here—”
“Koby, that’s not appropriate for you to ask.” Lidia kept her words low and steady, but there was an obvious hint of pride behind her statement.
“Fine.” The boy’s dark brow puckered. “Like I said, there are other factories in the area willing to take advantage of us like the old … I mean Mrs. Moore.”
“I wish I could offer to hire you both.” Adam cleared his throat, not knowing how to respond to the boy. “I’m just not sure how I could pay—”
“Of course not.” Lidia whispered something to her brother before moving to empty one of the buckets into the vat. “We would never want to put you in such an awkward position. We’ll be fine. Right now, all we need to worry about is the work before us.”
Adam cringed. He’d never given a second thought to the conditions of the surrounding factories that dotted the state. Even with new laws that limited the number of hours children were allowed to work, he knew that the labor was hard, rules stringent, and the pay minimal. It wasn’t the kind of place he wanted to see Lidia working in—or Koby. But he knew that even if he wanted to hire them for the rest of the season, he simply didn’t have the means to pay them. If they lost their jobs on top of everything else …
“Let me speak to Mrs. Moore on your behalf.” Adam caught her troubled gaze. “Once I explain what happened, I’m sure she’ll be sympathetic.”
Lidia shrugged a shoulder. “It might make a difference, but please don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
She smiled at him, and his heart pounded. She looked small and vulnerable beside the large iron vat. He shouldn’t feel this way. Something inside him made him want to protect her. To gather her into his arms and promise her everything would be all right.
A wave of nausea swept over him, and he leaned against the wall for support.
Lidia grabbed his arm and led him to a wooden bench in the corner of the room. “You’re not strong enough yet.”
“I’m fine. It’s just a dizzy spell.”
“No, it’s not. You’ve overdone it.” Lidia glanced up at her brother. “If the snow melts enough by morning, we’ll go into town for help.”
“Didn’t you know? All Polish fairy tales have at least one dragon.” Lidia laughed as she leaned closer to the fire that crackled in the stone fireplace of Adam’s small cabin.
He sat across from her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “And like the story you just told, are the princesses always rescued by handsome heroes?”
“Of course, just like the stories you tell in this country.”
Two more days had passed, and Lidia found herself wanting to suspend their time together indefinitely. Tonight the stars loomed bright overhead, signaling an end to the gray, overcast skies and below-normal temperature that had stopped the flow of sap.
While they had waited for the daytime temperatures to rise, Lidia spent the long days scalding the utensils for the sap harvest, while her brother ensured there was plenty of wood to keep the vats of sap boiling. Adam had worked intermittently as he slowly regained his strength, repairing the handles of several of the buckets when he wasn’t resting or engaging in snowball fights with her brother.
Adam’s cheeks had lost their pasty appearance, and it was becoming clear he wouldn’t need her much longer. Besides that, now that he was up and around again, it wouldn’t be proper for her to stay even with her brother beside her.
It was time to go into town to find someone to help Adam with the rest of the harvest. Then she would return to the factory where she could only pray Mrs. Moore would graciously agree to keep her and her brother on as employees.
Koby snored softly beside her on the small couch. She put her arm around him and pulled him close. In spite of the hard work he’d accomplished, she hadn’t missed seeing how he’d thrived this past week. Being outside in the fresh air, away from the demanding labor of the factory, had done wonders for him. She’d seen him smile for the first time in months, something even she hadn’t been able to get him to do before.
Adam had a way with him, as well. Lidia was convinced he’d gotten out of bed sooner than he should have, but even in his weakened state, he seemed to find the energy to encourage her brother. And now she would have to take Koby away from all of this.
Something cried out from the darkness beyond the cabin.
“What was that?”
Adam cocked his head. “Sounded like an owl.”
“No.” She leaned forward and put a finger to her lips.
She listened carefully as an animal rummaged in the trees. “Are there animals that might get into the buckets?”
“Might be. I’ll go check it out.”
“I’m coming with you.”
The front door creaked open, and she followed Adam across the porch and down the steps, careful not to slip on the remnants of ice that encrusted the wooden boards as she worked to stay in the light of the lantern he held above his head.
“Could be a wildcat,” he whispered. “But I doubt it.”
Lidia shivered and wondered if she should run back to the safety of the cabin.
Adam shone the light up into one of the trees and caught the reflection of two round eyes. “I was right. It’s an owl.”
“Are you sure?” She still wasn’t convinced. “What I heard sounded much bigger.”
Adam laughed. “There’s nothing to worry about. We get a few wild animals around here, but none of them have ever made a menace of themselves so far.”
“I hope not.”
“Look at the stars.” Adam blew out the lantern and gazed toward the heavens. The night sky was so bright the extra light wasn’t needed. “My father and I used to lie out in the fields in the summertime where he’d teach me the names of many of the great constellations.”
“It is beautiful.” She looked up at him and tried to ignore the flutter of her heart over his nearness. “Maybe we should go in now. You must be exhausted after today.”
Adam drew in a deep breath. “I do need to shake this lingering fatigue. If the temperatures rise like I think they will after I get you off to town, I’m going to have a busy day tomorrow.”
The reminder that she wouldn’t be a part of his days anymore saddened her. “We could stay longer, my brother and I …”
“I wouldn’t ask that of you. I’m already worried about your job at the factory.”
He was right. She knew they had to leave, but the thought left her sober. Tomorrow she would be gone. She wasn’t sure when she’d ever see him again.
Lidia turned and twisted her ankle on a broken limb. Struggling to keep her balance, she felt his strong hand envelop her arm and hold her upright. “Thank you. I’m fine.”
She caught his gaze and for a moment time hovered motionless around her. She had no right feeling what she did toward him. They lived in two different worlds. She was a second-generation immigrant. A factory worker. He came from a successful family and owned his own land—
“Lidia …”
Before she could say anything, his lips pressed against hers. She felt breathless and lightheaded. Hadn’t she daydreamed of him holding her and telling her he cared for her? And now his arms surrounded her.
He stepped back abruptly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I had no right to kiss you.”
She smiled up at him. “It’s all right. Really.”
Heat rose in her cheeks, and she was certain he could read her thoughts. While he’d been in his feverish state, she’d dared imagine what it would be like to care for him as his wife. Dared to imagine that something could ever come about between them, and now wasn’t that very possibility looming before her? Surely this wasn’t really happening.
“It’s late.” He ran his thumb down her jawline. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”
Following closely behind him, she stepped into the cabin and watched as Adam entered his room and shut the door behind him. With a smile on her face, she sat down beside her sleeping brother, wondering all the time what tomorrow might bring.
Lidia arose early the next morning, careful not to disturb her brother as she went about the morning chores in the small cabin one last time. She smiled as she chopped up the potatoes and fried them, remembering her dreams filled with Adam and the softness of his touch. She longed to know more about the man she’d diligently nursed back to health over the past few days. It seemed unbelievable that he might care for her.
Standing in front of the kitchen window that overlooked the maple grove, she flipped the last of the pancakes in the hot pan as the morning sun began to peek above the horizon. Not only had she decided to prepare a decent breakfast for Adam, she also wanted to make sure everything was in order before he took them to the mill this morning. It was the least she could do.
Or maybe it was simply because she wanted to prolong her time here. But the dark clouds that had hovered above them the past few days had vanished, and with Adam’s health returning, there was no excuse for her to stay.
With the pancakes cooked and the potatoes nearly finished, she quickly worked to tidy up the room. Dusting the wooden bookshelf, a small stack of newspaper clippings fluttered to the floor. She picked them up, then froze as she glanced at the familiar face.
“Jarek.”
She hadn’t spoken the name of her older brother for almost a year and a half. Her family hadn’t known anything until her father had happened to see the sketch of his eldest son in the post office—wanted for murder. Jarek had been missing for weeks and with a bounty on his head; none of her family believed they’d ever see him again.
She scanned the paper, which told briefly about the incident. Here, in black and white, were the details she’d tried to forget during the months that followed her father’s discovery. Then her parents died, bringing another fresh wave of grief. A name caught her attention. One of the details she’d apparently chosen to forget. But this time the named burned across her heart. Her brother, Jarek, had murdered Samuel Johnson.
six
Lidia crinkled the paper between her fingers and let the sketch of her brother drop to the floor. It was happening again. Feelings of panic, grief, and helplessness washed over her in a single wave. She remembered the day they learned the truth about why Jarek had run away. Father had sat her and Mother down and told them what he’d seen in town, revealing the awful truth that a thousand dollars was being offered for the capture of her brother.
Her mother had refused to believe the accusations that Jarek had killed someone. Lidia hadn’t wanted to believe them either, yet she’d seen the way his temper flared, time and time again, with little provocation. Then there was the fact that her father’s gun was missing. Her father hadn’t told her mother, but Lidia had opened the empty case and at that moment realized the accusations were true. Her brother was a murderer.
Until today, she’d never really stopped to think about the family of the young man Jarek killed. At the beginning she’d felt sorry for them, wishing she could go back in time and change things, but all she’d known was that someone had died. He’d been a nameless person she couldn’t put a face to, and her own grief in losing her brother was still too new. Now the family had a name. Her heart ached for Adam.