settled his glasses on his nose, and tugged his coat close against the biting wind. “I’d better get on home. This weather is going to be the death of me. Say hello to your mother for me, will you?”
“I’ll do that. Good night.”
The banker waved a hand over his shoulder and hurried away. Jake stared after him. Would this summer be any different from last year? It would take a miracle to bring in enough from the farm to pay off the loan against the defunct mine.
A sharp blast rent the air, signaling the evening shift change at the mines. Jake turned northward. The low hills sat shrouded in a blanket of pure, white snow. Peaceful.
An illusion. The mines beneath the ground held anything but purity. Coal dust, death, and destruction existed there.
Along with enough coal to pay off the loan.
Jake turned his back on the mine and walked away.
* * *
Mrs. Brooks glanced up from the coal-burning stove when Livy entered the kitchen. “How’d it go?”
Livy took off her cloak and hung it on a nail along with several threadbare coats in varying sizes before moving to warm her hands over the stovetop. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. The aroma of vegetable soup simmering on the stove and baking bread welcomed her home. “Nobody’s hiring. Not even the glove factory.”
Mrs. Brooks sank into an old rocker. The runners creaked as she set the chair in motion. “What are we going to do?”
Worry lines knit the older woman’s brow, and Livy turned away. She rubbed the tips of her fingers together. How easy it would be to obtain the money needed to keep them afloat. Livy had visited half a dozen shops today, all of them easy pickings.
She slammed a lid on the shameful images. Those thoughts should be long gone, but they snuck up on her when she was most vulnerable. When Mrs. Brooks’s faith wavered, Livy’s hit rock bottom.
She balled her hands into fists and squeezed her eyes shut. Lord, I don’t want to go back to that life. Ever.
Livy forced herself to relax and turned to face Mrs. Brooks. “Maybe the citizens of Chestnut will help.”
“I’ve tried, Livy. A few have helped us out, mostly by donating clothes their own children have outgrown. And I’m more than thankful. But money to keep up with the payments on this old place? And food?” Her gaze strayed toward the bucket of coal. “Except for our guardian angel who keeps the coal bin full, most everybody is in about as bad a shape as we are. They don’t have much of anything to give.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am.” Livy patted the older woman’s shoulder, desperate to hear the ironclad faith ring in her voice. “You keep telling me the Lord will provide.”
Mrs. Brooks smiled. “You’re right, dear. He will. I’ve told you time and again that we should pray for what we need, and here I am, doubting the goodness of God. Let’s pray, child. The Lord hasn’t let me down yet, and I’m confident He never will.”
The rocker stopped, and Mrs. Brooks took Livy’s hand in hers and closed her eyes. “Lord, You know the situation here. We’ve got a lot of mouths to feed and not much in the pantry. Livy is doing all she can, and I thank You for her every day. We’re asking You to look down on us and see our need. These children are Yours, Lord, and we need help in providing food for them and keeping a roof over their heads. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.” She heaved herself out of the rocker and headed to the stove, a new resolve in her step. “Call the children, Livy. It’s almost time for supper.”
Livy trudged down the hall to the parlor. The short prayer had cheered Mrs. Brooks but hadn’t done much to ease Livy’s worry. She’d have to find some way to bring in a few extra dollars if they were to make it to spring. Otherwise, she and Mrs. Brooks and the small brood of children they’d taken in would be on the streets of Chestnut before winter’s end. The elderly woman would never survive if that happened.
A wave of panic washed over her like fire sweeping through the slums of Chicago. Livy couldn’t have another life on her conscience. She took a deep breath. They weren’t on the streets yet. And as long as they had a roof over their heads and food on the table, there was hope.