“Yes, Ben. Tell me exactly why you dragged me away from home on my day off.”
Fiona stood with her hands on her hips, a particularly annoyed look on her face. John stood beside her, his expression equally perplexed. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he took in Benedict’s ragged appearance but kept quiet.
“Karstark is planning to clear out all farms south of the river.”
“What?” The single word came from three different people, their faces mirrored images of shock.
“How do you kn-kn-know this?”
“Lady Karstark visited Amelia yesterday.”
“Has it been confirmed?” Fiona’s grip on the doorframe tightened, her knuckles white. The news would hit her hardest. Her father’s farm was on Karstark land. South of the river.
“I wrote to Lord Karstark immediately to ask if it was true. He responded this morning.” Benedict tossed a crumpled ball of paper into the middle of the table. Oliver opened it and read the scrawled text aloud.
“It’s not your business, but yes.” He flipped the paper over, and then over again. “The bloody bastard.” He turned to the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of brandy he’d confiscated from Benedict and took a long swig. He held out the bottle to John, who joined them at the bench and then took his own mouthful.
Fiona stalked over to them and snatched the paper. “That’s it? That’s all he said?”
“D-d-did Lady K-k-arstark say when?” Anxiety always made John’s stutter worse.
“All she said was that the area would be ready for deer hunting next autumn.”
“Christ,” said Fiona, sinking to a stool. “They’d need to evict us soon to make that happen.” She took the bottle from John.
“By my count,” Benedict said, “we have three months, maybe four. Then half of Abingdale is without a home.”
All three stared vacantly ahead of them as the magnitude of the disaster sank in. He gave them a moment. Devil knew he’d needed it when he had heard.
“What do we do?” Fiona asked.
“I’ve been looking at the numbers.” Benedict spread some sheets out over the table. “A third of the affected farms have someone employed with us already. Another fifteen percent have a son who could join us in the next week, and most of the others could join us once they’re evicted.”
“They’d need training. They’re farmhands. They sow and plow and raise sheep, not shape steel into parts,” said Oliver.
“Then we’ll train them. You d-d-did it with the men we’ve g-got.”
It had taken time to get his people trained well enough that the firm ran as smoothly as it did. And it had been done in increments. They’d hired staff as the company had grown. Such a sudden intake of novices would present a challenge they hadn’t faced before. A potentially dangerous one in an environment like theirs.
“So we can provide work for what, ninety percent o’ them?” Fiona asked.
Chains tightened around Benedict’s chest, like they were being pulled by engines traveling in opposite directions. “If we have the work to give them.”
Because while his gut wanted him to support the whole village and promise them a roof and income regardless of the situation, his head knew it wasn’t sustainable. To make this work for the long term, they needed money coming in to support the money going out.
“We need the Americans.” Fiona’s hand was to her mouth. “We’ll never negotiate another contract in time.”
Benedict grimaced. “And we need to convince them to move the timeframe up so that we receive the funds months earlier than planned. The prototype needs to be fully functional in the next fortnight. And we’d need another three ready to ship within a year.”
“Impossible.” Oliver shook his head. “Not with new workers that don’t know what they’re doing. The current workers would need to do double the hours they’re currently working to make up for it.”
“Then that’s what they’re going to have to do.” Benedict’s tone of voice was harsher than intended, but he’d been up all night, and he couldn’t think of another way out of the situation.
“They’re not going to like it.”
“I’m sure their friends will like being homeless less,” Fiona said. Her face was hard as stone, but her eyes were bright with tears.
“We can p-p-provide jobs, but what about h-housing?”
