Who are you?
She pulled Charlie close, kissing his head, new tears blurring her eyes.
She knew what the voices called her. She'd heard their condemnation enough to recall it from memory. They repeated the same names, the same hate.
Her gaze fell on her Bible, and a sudden light pierced her spirit.
But what did God say? Even if she didn't feel like anything wonderful, His voice needed to be louder than anyone else's.
Louder than George's. Noah's. And even her own.
Chapter 25
NOAH ARRIVED AT THE HOUSE, but his brother never came.
The blood from his busted lip easily washed away.
The pain would take a little longer.
But the uneasiness about George's next choices lingered in every moment. Noah went through the house, locking windows and doors, and put all the servants on alert. Within the next two days, George's entire life would fall apart all around him, and, from what Noah could tell, his brother hadn't counted the cost of his choices.
He'd played a hand against the whims of the world and lost, horribly.
Certainly, as Father's golden child, George reserved the honor of getting most everything he wanted, with no consequences for small mistakes. Or at least none from which Father didn't rescue him. So perhaps George thought skimming a little extra money here or there or forging Mother's name to acquire funds or neglecting the needs of the mill to feed his own faux status were acts that wouldn't come back to roost.
Yet here they were.
Noah stared out the window, taking in the sight of the mill, branding it into his memory.
There was nothing he could do to stop the imminent doom.
“Do you remember what George used to do as a child when he found himself in trouble?”
Noah turned as his mother walked into his study, the lines around her eyes deeper than usual.
“Blame me?” Noah shot her a humorless grin, and she responded with a sad smile.
“Well, besides that.” She joined him at the window. “He'd have a little fit and then attempt to run away.”
Noah braced himself with the revelation. “You think he'll run away?”
“He's never been good at facing up to his mistakes.” She sighed. “Your father indulged him so. After two babies dying before George's birth, I suppose it was your father's way of healing. I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't already disappeared.”
Noah turned toward her. “And remain in hiding for the rest of his life, perhaps?”
“I don't know.” She rubbed her forehead. “I suppose it all depends on how deep his stubbornness and anger run.”
“Or his fear.” He returned his attention to the window. Sunset glinted off the dozens of mill windows, reflecting back the scene of a mountain silhouette. After all the discoveries, in the quiet afterward, grief began a steady climb into his chest. “I hate disappointing the workers, Mother. Having them lose their livelihoods.”
“Maybe they won't.”
“What?”
She turned and walked to a nearby chair. He followed.
“Your father's solicitor discussed the will with me today. I've been a fool.” She rubbed her forehead. “I just believed George, allowed him to take over everything, assuming your father had left it all to him, but …” She looked up. “Iam the sole inheritor of everything except for the land left to George.”
“The land he sold was his own?”
