Chapter Thirteen

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"I declare, if Cartwright tells one more of our girls to work faster, I'm going on strike," Jack declared as she and Minnie began the walk home after work.

Summer set over the wheat fields surrounding the factory, the warm sun glinting off of the honeyed stalks that were nearly ready for harvest. Jack only caught glimpses of the beauty through the dirt-stained windows in the factory though she had become distracted more than once by the beautiful day she could not enjoy. However, after the conversation with her friends after church on Sunday, Jack was determined to do everything she could to support the war effort, even if that meant working long hours for meager compensation. She would contribute however she could.

"He's not as bad as McPherson," Minnie reminded Jack, bringing to mind the image of the corpulent fellow with the greased mustache who had held Jack's position prior to the incineration of the factory. "Deirdre still won't use the outhouse ever since he was lurking out there."

Jack shivered at the memory despite the sultry heat of the day, remembering the foreman who had haunted any girl he found alone. Though Cartwright was a difficult enough boss, McPherson had been far worse. Cartwright had finally fired the man, but not for his many indiscretions; no, he had been fired for wasting the workers' time with his unending pursuits and for his negligence of the safety protocol that had ultimately led to the factory fire.

"I suppose we should count our blessings," Jack admitted begrudgingly.

"We should. At least we still have jobs."

"And each other," Jack added, her errant thoughts conjuring an image of Donovan.

Minnie's eyes remained fastened on the dirt road before them where wagon wheels had formed hardened ruts in the ground. She said nothing in response to Jack's statement and did not even give an assenting nod. Jack studied her for a moment, wondering what had sparked the sudden silence. Jack had known the reticent woman for years and still felt as if she didn't truly know her. Minnie was reserved and guarded, much like Donovan, but instead of concealing her secrets behind charm and civility, she simply remained quiet when something weighed heavily on her.

The women continued on in silence and Jack's black boots changed color as dust clung to the edges of the worn, wrinkled leather. As she considered Minnie's secrets, her thoughts invariably wandered to Donovan and her cheeks warmed at just the thought of him.

"Minnie, I have to ask--can I trust Donovan?" Jack blurted out, thinking of the challenges her friends had issued about the man. "Because I think he's a fine fellow, but you mentioned that he was in trouble and the Good Lord knows I don't need any more of that in my life, and--"
Minnie cut off Jack's babbling, her voice sharp. "He's not just a fine fellow; he's a good man, Jack. This trouble isn't his own fault, and don't you hold any of that against him. He's one of the best men Julius and I know, and I won't hear nothing bad said of him." Minnie stopped and drilled Jack with her gaze as she lauded Donovan's attributes, her hands on her narrow waist.

Jack smiled at Minnie's words despite the sternness of her friend's expression. She was reluctant to let herself become involved with a man who had a reputation for trouble, but if Minnie was right, if whatever it was that haunted him wasn't his fault, then there was no reason for Jack to keep her distance--not that she'd been all that successful in her previous attempts at guarding herself.

"Oh, I'm happy to hear it!" Jack said, her smile widening. "If you and Julius say he's a good man, then I have no doubts."

Jack continued to walk but stopped in her tracks when she realized Minnie remained standing in the road. Minnie watched Jack with an unfamiliar expression on her face, finally crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin.

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