Chapter 2

Dania Eison tugged at the edges of her woolen shawl as she stepped down onto the train platform, the cool air a relief compared to the heavy stuffiness of the passenger cabin. She thought to step farther into the rush of people then paused, her heart hammering against her chest. She’d never liked Atlanta, still didn’t. Too many people for her taste.

Well, this wasn’t a pleasure trip. Mr. Ernest Young, one of the most noteworthy industrial engineers in the country, was speaking at the Cotton States Exposition in two days, and she planned on being there. True, she had almost canceled when the bobbin had broken on her main threader. Why come for a demonstration that may not be feasible for the mill? But what if it was? What if Ernest Young’s ideas on automation could be put to use on the floor of her mill? It would cost a pretty penny, but the welfare and safety of her young employees outweighed the cost. If only she could secure a meeting with the man, but all her attempts had been rebuffed.

There was much to do in the next two days. Clasping her valise with both hands, she headed down the platform to the stairs that led to the street. Maybe the carriage Uncle George had promised would be waiting there.

“Miss?”

Dania had barely turned when she felt a strong pull on the valise in her hand. Shock tinged with anger exploded in her chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Just let go, missy, and no one will get hurt.”

“You just might!” Long hours of setting the thread and carrying cotton had strengthened her arms, and she was too stubborn to give up without a fight. She clutched the leather handle of her case and held on for dear life. “Police!”

The man seemed startled by her response. “Let go!”

The man yanked so hard Dania feared he’d dislocate her arm. But she refused to give up. Clasping the valise as tight as she could, she lifted her leg and kicked him hard just below the knee.

Letting go of her case, the man stumbled back, clutching his knee as if she’d landed a mortal blow. “You didn’t have to do that, you little minx.”

“The lady was much kinder than I would have been,” a masculine voice behind her said. “I would have shot you myself.”

Dania turned. If she’d had any doubts about this man’s words, the infuriated expression on his face repelled them. “Too bad you weren’t here to demonstrate.”

He gave her a cockeyed grin that caused her stomach to flutter. Probably shock from facing down a would-be thief. “You seemed to have the situation well under control.”

Dania’s mouth fell open then snapped shut. Any of the men back in Tifton wouldn’t have thought twice at helping her, but then this wasn’t home, was it? “I appreciate your concern, but I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be, Mr ….”

“No, I’m exactly where I belong. And the name is Langley, Miss Eison.” He walked over to her assailant and jerked him upright, causing the man to wince. “There’s a police officer just around the corner. I’ll be back as soon as I introduce this man to the authorities.”

Dania blinked as she watched the two hurry down the platform. How did he know her name? Why did that name sound so familiar? Could he be one of the men she’d hoped to meet with at the exposition? Or …

Dropping her valise, she opened her reticule and pulled out a neatly folded sheet of telegraph paper. Uncle George had begged off meeting her at the station, but he’d promised to send an associate in his place. She scanned over the telegram then smirked. A Mr. Matthew Langley.

“Lovely.” Dania stuffed the paper back into her purse and clicked it shut. How Uncle George even knew she would be in Atlanta was anyone’s guess. After his unsuccessful bid to buy the mill out from under them, Papa had broken all ties with him. A thirty-year friendship destroyed over a business Dania wasn’t even sure could survive. But Papa had been adamant: “Don’t trust anything Uncle George might say. The mill will provide financial security to our family and the families of those who work there.”

Papa. The sadness that accompanied any thoughts about her father brought a knot to her chest. Four long months since a heart seizure had claimed Papa’s life, yet it still felt so fresh. Mama could make it through the day now without crying, or at least, she hid it well. Katie, her younger sister, had returned to school in Savannah while her sister Gilly had taken the semester off from college to help out at the mill.

“Miss Eison?”

Gracious gravy, but the man was quick! Dania opened her reticule, retrieved a fifty cent piece from her coin purse, and handed it to him. “Thank you for alerting the police, Mr. Langley. I do appreciate it.”

He glanced down at her hand as if she held a water moccasin. “Do you always pay people for doing the right thing?”

“No, but—”

“Then don’t insult me by offering me money.”

She’d insulted him? Dania pulled her hand back as if it had been slapped. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention. When I was planning this trip, I wasn’t expecting Uncle George to secure me an escort.”

Confusion furrowed the man’s handsome brow. “The senator is your uncle?”

She gave a humorless chuckle. “No. It’s just that my father and Uncle George have been friends since before I was born. Neither had any siblings, so they always considered themselves brothers.” That was until Uncle George tried to buy the mill out from under her family.

“Miss Eison, is something wrong?”

Dania lifted her head and met blue-green eyes touched by a hint of concern. Matthew Langley was quite an attractive man, probably the most handsome of her acquaintance. When he stared at her, as if his complete attention was focused on her, her heart skipped a beat. Dania shook her head. “Probably just tired from the train ride. I don’t travel very much.”

“You don’t?”

“Why would you think that I do?”

If he thought her question odd, his expression didn’t show it. “Isn’t that what most young heiresses do? Travel around the country, shopping and attending teas? Dancing the night away in the arms of any one of a number of matrimonial candidates?”

Dania didn’t know whether to be angry or fall down laughing. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve spent the last several years learning the family business.”

He blinked at her response. “You work for your father?”

The man seem surprised by her news, but at least he wasn’t mortified like most of the men she knew. “I’m the oldest of three sisters, Mr. Langley. With no male heirs, Papa felt it was important that I learn all aspects involved in the daily running of our mill. It is a family business after all.”

“Oh.” He looked slightly amused, as if the idea of her running the mill was humorous in some way.

What exactly had Uncle George told this man about her? Whatever it was, he hadn’t painted an accurate picture of her or her life. Why did that bother her so much? Dania drew in a deep breath. “I appreciate your offer to escort me on Uncle George’s behalf, but there’s really no need.”

Mr. Langley nodded, sitting back on his heels. “If that’s what you’d like.”

An odd response, so very different from the men back home. For some odd reason, she wanted to know why. “You’re not going to remind me of the dangers of traveling alone or the damage that could be done to my reputation.”

He studied her for a long moment then shrugged. “You appear to know all the arguments. Why bother repeating them?”

Shaking her head, she gave him a slight smile. “Uncle George might not see it that way. As your employer …”

“Oh, I don’t work for Senator Evers. At least, not yet.”

This was getting confusing. Dania pressed her lips together. “Then why did my uncle ask you to escort me?”

“Well, to be honest”—he gave her another of those lopsided grins and she forgot to breathe—“escorting you around is kind of my job interview.”

She stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“The senator said you had some ideas on how to change the textile industry that piqued my interest. Is that true?”

Dania tensed; Uncle George’s resistance to changes at her mill was still an embarrassing memory. Why would Uncle George tell this man about the changes she hoped to make? How did he think Mr. Langley could help? “Are you on the state house committee that oversees the textile business?”

“Oh no,” he chuckled. “I’m too honest to be a politician. I’m a news reporter for the Atlanta Journal and Constitution.

“Some people might say that’s almost as bad.”

The rich timbre of his laugh sent a pleasant tingle up Dania’s spine. “You’re sharp as a tack, aren’t you?”

“It comes in quite handy when you’re operating a business.” She shifted the focus back to Mr. Langley. “Might I have read some of your articles?”

“You read the Journal?”

“When I can get it. For the business news, of course,” Dania added, feeling herself blush. Truth be told, she devoured every paper she could get her hands on, a habit she’d started when she was barely old enough to read. Mama had always frowned upon it—young ladies needed to be protected against the harsh realities of the world—but it hadn’t stopped her papa from sneaking papers to her.

“I just finished a piece on how the recession of 1890 widened the divide between social classes.”

“That was your work?” Dania forgot her embarrassment and smiled. “We had quite an interesting conversation about that piece over the dinner table a few nights ago.”

“That’s all I can hope for when I write on those vital topics.”

Dania nodded. It had been more than just a discussion. Mr. Langley’s article had made her all the more determined to help those who worked for her and her family. Maybe he was just the man to help her. “I think I may have spoken too soon. If you’d still like to escort me to my appointments, I would be grateful.”

His gaze settled on her, studying her as if she were the subject of one of his articles. “You changed your mind mighty fast.”

“A lady can change her mind, can’t she?” Dania shifted from one foot to the other and decided to be completely honest. “Truth is, I’d like to hear more about the research you did for your article. I’d like to know what I can do to help those people you mentioned in the piece.”

“You’re interested?”

Why did the man sound so surprised? Did he think she was some kind of monster? “I do care about people, Mr. Langley.”

“Of course.” He didn’t smile, but there was a light in his eyes when he offered her his arm. “And please. Call me Matt.”

“Matt.” His name came out airy as if she was whispering her nightly prayers. Dania cleared her throat as she took his arm. “I’m Dania.”

“Like its male counterpart, Daniel.” A warm tingle shot up her arm as he covered her gloved hand with his. “It suits you.”

Her heart did a little flutter. It shouldn’t matter what Matthew Langley thought of her name or anything else, for that matter. Her first concern would always be her family and the children working in their mill. The only reason she was here in Atlanta was her business. She didn’t have time for romantic entanglements, no matter how attractive the man was.