KIZZIE BARELY HAD TIME TO turn her mind to Mr. Sykes and the thief. She'd told Noah about the missing button on Sykes’ jacket, and he'd shared his concerns about George. Then, he'd surprised her by stopping at the store later that week to inform her of what he'd learned from Jones, as if her opinion was important to him.
She liked the notion that she mattered enough for him to go out of his way to get her opinion. Especially since it gained her the attention of a man she admired so much. But no evidence pointed to Sykes or George. Or at least, not enough to incriminate them.
Though Noah planned to use Jones to keep a keener eye out for more evidence.
Even though there was little they could do about the robberies, there was a whole lot they could do about getting more workers for the mill. Over the next two weeks, Kizzie, Victoria, and Noah readied the mill cottages and discussed plans for the women to start their new jobs. Noah mentioned how George asked when the workers planned to start, which Noah saw as a good sign.
Or at least a sign that his brother bowed to necessity over convention, which proved positive for Gayle's girls as well as the mill overall.
Noah held a private training with them on the Saturday evening they moved into the cottages in order to make their transition to work on Monday as successful as possible.
And it was. Hettie and Mary brought five more women with them, including Mrs. Carter's newest boarder, Jessie, a seventeen-year-old with a one-month-old baby to tend.
The two twelve-year-olds proved indispensable, with Noah pulling from his own limited cash to pay the babysitters.
Mrs. Carter even volunteered to help one morning a week.
And Noah kept growing dearer to Kizzie with each day.
Watching him oversee the mill and relate to his workers only strengthened her admiration. He genuinely cared for them, asking personal questions about family members or inquiring after an illness.
Hardships had changed her, but they'd also made her stronger. Wiser. She noticed things now she'd have never noticed with Charles. The way Noah treated his mother meant more to her. The kindness he showed to all classes and stations. The diligence in his work and care for others.
Telling a woman her bonnet strap was loose and too close to the machines.
Warning an older worker of a slippery spot on the floor.
What other employer would notice things like that and make a point to protect his workers?
Charlie appeared to enjoy the engagement of the other children. Since he'd grown enough to sit up when propped against something, he could watch the toddlers and other children's antics. And though the additional work with the ten small ones who were too young for school or the mill offered Kizzie a sense of service for those women bringing in the most money they'd ever gotten, her body ached. She'd even gotten sick a few mornings before taking off to the mill and wondered if breathing in some of the fibers didn't sit well with her.
Or maybe she was overworking herself.
Tending the store and keeping the books became her more restful days, where she could ease into her schedule, enjoy alone time with Charlie, and befriend more residents of The Hollows.
But watching the women she'd grown to care for gain confidence and friendships through not only working in the mill but also managing their own little houses cultivated a deeper burden for other people like them.
Some of the women had even found themselves objects of admiration by a few of the younger men. In fact, Noah's servant, Case, couldn't keep his eyes off Molly anytime they were in the same place together.
Noah praised the progress. Having the children out of the machines seemed to lighten some of his worry, especially since he already had to live beneath the precarious whim of a volatile personality. Though Noah commented that George had seemed more subdued and less snappish over the past few days.
Perhaps seeing Noah's work and the ladies’ willingness to serve the children with minimal pay humbled him?
Could he possibly be regretting his choices? Kizzie could only hope that the same change the women continued to show made its way to George, for his own sake, but also for his mother and brother. Repentance was beautiful to behold, much like the early spring flowers taking advantage of the warmer late-February days.
Though a part of her wondered if Granny's old adage about the calm before a storm was true.
After a month, Noah's plan to move the children to the empty schoolhouse turned into a reality, removing the children from the noise and polluted air of the mill. Once the new childcare spot was secured, Mrs. Carter wrangled in some helpers from the ladies’ group at church, inspiring them to serve the Lord through ministry to children, which meant Kizzie's shifts reduced to only two half days, giving her enough time to get back to reconciling the books Mrs. Carter had left in disarray.
The few quiet moments Kizzie had with Noah at their Saturday afternoon meals usually included talk of changes to the mill or for the children, though he had succeeded in teaching her to play chess over the last month.
A little.
He soundly beat her every time, but she was improving.
It was a thinking game. She liked those.
And recently, when he returned her to the shop, he'd lingered a little longer, playing with Charlie or teasing Mrs. Carter. Just being near.
Like he wasn't quite ready to leave Kizzie and Charlie just yet.
Kizzie couldn't hold back her grin as she took the path to the store from the bank. Could it be true? She turned her gaze heavenward and offered God one of her biggest smiles, and since He saw her heart already, He knew how grateful she was at even the possibility of someone like Noah Lewis waiting around to spend time with her.
And her little boy.
She sighed and adjusted the belt of her skirt, which fitted more tightly over the past few weeks. Perhaps she needed to refrain from joining Mrs. Carter at Lola's restaurant so often, but the fried chicken tasted so much like Mama's, Kizzie could never get enough. And Charlie loved the mashed sweet potatoes, or any type of potato. Pudding brought out his dimples too.
She'd just turned the corner to her street when someone grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the shadow of the building. With a step back to break contact, she looked up into the face of Cole Morgan.
Charles’ cousin.
The man she'd shot.
“I thought that was you, Kizzie McAdams.” He stuck out his hand. The pinkie finger was missing. “How ’bout we greet each other with a proper handshake, like friends.“
Kizzie pulled her purse against her chest and readied herself for … well, she wasn't sure what he might do, but thankfully, they were in the middle of town in broad daylight, so that helped. “I don't recall us ever being friends, Cole Morgan.”
“Well, that would explain the little surprise you gave me then, wouldn't it?” He wiggled his fingers. “Charles was good enough to let me know ’bout you bein’ the only one in that house, so I reckon you're the one who gave me this gift.”
“I think your gifts were just as friendly.”
A ruthless grin curled his lips in a slow movement from one corner of his mouth to the other until his sun-leathered face wrinkled in an unwelcome way. “Same ol’ Kizzie McAdams, ’cept all fancied up now, are you? I didn't expect to see anyone I knowed in these parts, but when I caught sight of you walkin’ down the street as if you was one of them fancy ladies, I barely recognized you at first.” He took a step closer. “But it's hard not to remember a face like yours.”
She retreated another step from him, thinking of how to get by him.
“You got yourself a new man in this town?” She made an attempt to sidestep him, but he moved to stop her. “I reckon that means no.” He ran a hand over his chin, tilting his head to give her another look. “Still pining over my cousin, are you? Well, you better give up that dream, darlin’, ’cause he's done got hisself engaged.”
Kizzie's body went completely still. Charles was engaged. In a little over three months since last she saw him, he was engaged.
She looked away, digesting the information. Had his mama's plan worked so well?
“I reckon you didn't matter as much to him as you thought.”
She blinked.
“Engaged to his cousin's friend from out near Nashville. High-end lady. Good money. And much more than you could ever give him.”
If Cole meant for his statements to sting, he'd find Kizzie's indifference highly disappointing. Whether Noah ever meant to care for her beyond friends or not, she'd learned what the heart of a good man truly looked like. And perhaps she didn't have to settle for anyone else.
Rising to her tallest height, which still wasn't impressive next to Cole Morgan, Kizzie pushed her brightest smile into place. “I wish him all the happiness in the world.” And to her own surprise, she meant it.
The news didn't hurt as much as she'd thought it would.
In fact, had she expected it all along? Despite his grand declarations of coming after her, of waiting for her, deep down she'd known she wasn't enough for his mother … or him.
And maybe she wouldn't have known that if she hadn't grown from her experience in The Hollows. Hadn't built her confidence and independence through work and service and seen what a real gentleman looked like in Noah.
The knowledge gave her an odd sense of freedom, not just from her past, but from whatever thread of connection her heart still held for Charles. He'd moved on.
And she was glad it wasn't with her.
Cole's smile fell. “Just like that.”
“Just like that. Charles has moved on, and so have I. I'm real glad he's found what he's been lookin’ for.” Kizzie raised her chin. “Are you looking to move this way, Cole, or are you just passing through? ’Cause I can't imagine Charles ever casting off his right-hand man.”
“Charles is looking for better places to sell his cotton. Sent me to check on some of the newer mills. Them or the dying ones.” He folded his arms across his chest, taking her little “compliment” with enough pride to loosen his tongue, she suspected. His grin returned. “Either they're too green to know when they're being swindled, or they're too desperate to care.”
So Charles had sent Cole to find people in The Hollows to cheat? That didn't seem like Charles, did it? He wouldn't try to swindle anyone, would he? He may have been selfish and weak, but greedy or desperate?
He wasn't those things. He already had status and money. And he didn't seem to need to show off his wealth to folks like George Lewis tended to do. Besides, Charles or George would have to prey on ignorant people. Or those who were distracted in some way, because most folks knew what a good deal was or not.
It'd be a shame for any employer to become so desperate or rotten to swindle vulnerable people.
And then she stopped on the notion, a strange recollection coming to mind from the books she'd been reconciling for Gayle. It was easy to take advantage of a despairing person.
Especially one who didn't know how to keep their records.
“Please send my regards to Charles and his lady.” Kizzie rounded him and only made it a few steps before she paused and turned. “And, Cole, I'm real sorry about your hand.”
With that, she nearly ran to Carters.
For the past receipts, she'd just been looking at numbers to see if they matched the bank. She hadn't been looking to see if anything was amiss or not. It hadn't occurred to her that something might be.
Of course, as she'd started taking over current purchases and inventory, she'd found ways to save money, barter prices, and look for inconsistencies. But some memory in the back of her mind hinted to a discrepancy that Cole's words resurrected.
She took out the ledgers from the first six months since Mr. Carter's death and skimmed through the numbers. First month, nothing unusual.
But the second month …
Prices for all inventory purchased from Lewis Mills increased.
Not an exorbitant amount per item, but in total, substantial.
An extra dollar to socks. An additional fifty cents to fabric. A quarter more on linens. She pulled out the receipts she'd saved from the time, matching them to the dates. And each signed by George Lewis.
He'd raised his prices on Gayle Carter in her grief because he must have known she wouldn't notice. But if he increased the prices to much higher amounts—which, as the owner he could do—why was the mill suffering from low funds?
Unless George Lewis skimmed off the top of the extra costs.
And the only way Kizzie could figure that out was to talk to Noah.
Gayle Carter wasn't angry.
She was furious.
But after Kizzie had talked the rifle out of her hands, Kizzie suggested they get their wits together before making her discovery public knowledge. She needed to talk with Noah first and get his perspective. Perhaps there was a logical reason for such a cost hike to a woman who everyone knew wasn't too keen at keeping the books.
But Gayle thought of another plan.
A few other business owners she'd spoken with had also experienced unexpected high costs from Lewis Mills over the past few months. So over the next several days, Kizzie covered the shop so Gayle could meet with them.
Of the six who had cost hikes, four had reasons that their bookkeeping had fallen behind.
One was due to the husband being ill. Another was because the wife had died and the husband struggled with keeping the books in his grief. Another couple whose business was already failing didn't realize they'd been overcharged, because their son had died in the war, and he'd been the one managing most of the business before he left. The last was because the wife had given birth to twins and couldn't tend to the books for a few months.
Ignorant or despairing … and too busy.
George knew the people of the town and preyed upon the ones who were in difficult circumstances. Took advantage of their weaknesses.
No wonder he'd gotten away with it.
The wronged people gave their records to Gayle without hesitation.
George Lewis’ signature marked every one of them.
All the pieces came crashing together.
George's constant complaints about needing more money but wearing the latest fashion. His unwillingness to raise the mill workers’ salaries yet affording his massive new house.
He had to have gotten the money from somewhere, and a few robberies wouldn't have been enough.
With the paperwork in her satchel and Charlie on her lap, Kizzie got in her buggy and sped to the Lewis’ house. Noah must have seen her approach, because he met her at the door, his forehead crinkled with concern.
“What's the matter?”
She thrust Charlie into his arms, which resulted in a grin from both of them, and then raised her bag for his view. “I think I've figured out a way your brother's getting extra money. I'm not sure, and it will take some searching on your part, but … I've got an idea.”
“What?” His gaze flashed to her face, and he took a step over the threshold and gestured her inside. “I'll get Mother. She's uncovered a few things herself.”
“I can't believe he'd stoop to such a level.” Victoria sat on a nearby chair, looking over the ledgers. “Those poor people.”
Kizzie scanned the papers, trying to piece together why in the world George Lewis would try something that hurt his reputation in such a small town but also, if someone knew what to look for, was easy to find. Desperate people don't always use their best brains, as Daddy used to say.
“If that's even what he did,” Kizzie reminded her. “I mean, all we've got to go on is the fact he charged some folks in town more than others, but we don't know if he skimmed off the top of those charges unless we can see the mill's books.”
“And if he did, is it even illegal?” Noah waved to the papers scattered on the desk in his office. “He charged them, and they paid the price he charged. Any business owner is allowed those liberties from a legal standpoint.”
“He stole from them, Noah.” Victoria's response edged with contained fury. “From our neighbors, using our business.”
“I ain't the smartest person in this room,” Kizzie interjected. “But if the other business folks start talking, some reporter's gonna have a grand time sharing this information, and I'd say the news wouldn't fare too well for George or his future.”
“Or Lewis Mills,” Noah added, releasing a sigh. “But if we can control the narrative, it would cause less damage. And if George paid back what he overcharged, we might still have a chance to keep the repercussions small.”
“Your reputation and your mama's will help counter George's, I'd say.” Kizzie looked at them. “Everyone in The Hollows thinks the two of you are some of the best people in the world. And like you said, Noah, if the information comes out honest and worded rightly, then it will sting George, but not kill Lewis Mills.”
“We hope,” Victoria said. “Though, if it does kill the mill, the fault will fall on George's head, and he won't have the collateral to bail himself out.”
Kizzie glanced between the two of them. “What did you learn?”
Victoria held out her arms for Charlie, who Noah finally relinquished.
The way they passed around her little boy as if he was part of their family shone the sweetest bright spot into this moment. What would it feel like to find a family like this to love … and in which to be loved?
“George is in such debt, the bank wouldn't offer him any more loans.” Victoria pressed a kiss to Charlie's cheek. “So he must have been desperate enough to steal from his own mill. I'm meeting with the solicitor to go over the particulars of the will and see exactly how all the property was divided.”
“I plan to look into some of the other banks next week to investigate whether George has taken out loans anywhere else,” Noah added. “But this …” He pointed to the desk. “We can easily pair these costs with the ones we've charged other people and show the purposeful overcharging without any exaggeration to the story at all.”
“But even if we prove that he overcharged them, we need to check the ledgers. Then we'd have proof of whether or not he's pocketing the money and stealing from the company.” Kizzie stepped closer to him, drawing his attention. “Once word gets out that we know something, George will be sure to get rid of any evidence lickety-split.”
He stared at her, taking in her words, appreciation warming those hazel eyes of his. “Which means we need to search his office tonight.” Noah drew his watch out of his pocket. “The watchmen change over in a half hour. If we get there early, I think I can convince Jones to distract Sykes for the time we need to sneak into the office. Bribery for the good, right?” Noah winked at Kizzie. “And Jones can help give us the time we need to search.”
“We?” Kizzie looked up at him, still a little distracted from the effect his wink had on her pulse. “You want me to go with you?”
A wonderful feeling bloomed through her chest and ignited her smile.
He grinned down at her. “You'll make sense of the numbers much faster than I ever could.” He searched her face, his voice gentle and welcoming. “That is, if you're willing to go with me and have Charlie stay with Mother.”
Kizzie looked over at Victoria, who answered by kissing Charlie's round cheek again. “We'll be right here, safer than either of you.”
Kizzie blinked a few times and shrugged her shoulders before turning back to Noah. “I'm willing.”