our company. We reserve our office openings for them.”
The flutters changed to a stone weighting his gut. “You won’t consider hiring me?”
The man’s salt-and-pepper eyebrows descended. “As I just said, our openings are for our graduates. You aren’t one of our graduates, so…”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Emmett’s hope sputtered and died. He smacked his hat on his head and jammed his hands into his suit pockets. “What about in the mine? Do you reckon the supervisor would give me a job in the mine?”
The man stared hard at Emmett for several silent seconds. Then he huffed. “Son, let me ask you the questions the supervisor will ask. First, do you have any experience in coal mining?”
“Not firsthand, no.”
“Do you intend to make coal mining a longtime occupation, or would you see working there as biding time until something better comes along?”
Emmett cringed. He wished he could tell a fib, because telling the truth would surely earn him another rejection, but his conscience wouldn’t let him so much as bend the truth. “I’d rather not work the mines for the rest of my life, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s what I’m asking. We train our miners not only how to extract the coal but also how to keep themselves and everyone around them safe. If we hire a fellow, we make an investment in teaching him, and we want to know our time and effort isn’t going to waste. Unless you’re fixing to stay on, to be loyal to the US Steel Corporation, we—”
Emmett stepped off the stoop. “I understand.” He understood, but he sure didn’t like it. “Thank you for your time.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck to you.” The man entered the building.
Emmett stayed at the edge of the stoop and stared at the closed door. Another closed door. Another lost opportunity. “Good luck to you,” the man had said. Luck? This economic decline had stolen so much from people. Luck no longer existed.
He stepped onto the sidewalk and sent his gaze up the street. There were other businesses. Maybe one of them would hire him. Maybe he should spend the day here, visit all the places in town, then catch a ride back to Boone’s Hollow on the company wagon. His chest went tight. He didn’t want to be ignored by the miners during another uncomfortable ride. And he didn’t want to hear another “No, thanks,” either. A fellow could take only so much rejection in one day.
With a sigh, he turned to the road. Might as well start the long walk home.
Lexington
Addie
ADDIE SET OFF for work at a quarter past nine. Her shift began at ten, and Griselda Ann—or rather Miss Collins, as Addie needed to remember to call her while on duty—said the walk from her little house to the library would take thirty minutes. Since the route wasn’t yet familiar, Addie gave herself extra time in case she got turned around somehow. Mother always said it was better to arrive early than late to social events. Addie presumed the rule applied even more stringently to places of employment. Even if her time as a library employee was quickly drawing to an end, she wanted to leave with a good recommendation, so early was better.
She’d donned one of her most flamboyant outfits—a spring-green flared skirt that fell a modest four inches below her knees and a green-polka-dotted white blouse. Sometimes she wore the blouse tucked in, but today she’d opted to leave it out and buckled a wide black belt around her waist. Her black patent pumps, bearing a fresh coat of polish, finished the look. Felicity had once told her she looked sophisticated in the outfit, which gave Addie confidence, and she needed all the confidence she could muster. After she finished her shift at the library, she planned to revisit some of the places where she’d already been turned down for jobs. Mother’s letter claimed Daddy wasn’t giving up on finding a job, so Addie wouldn’t give up, either. Maybe they’d be more inclined to hire a girl who possessed sophistication.
She could hope, right?
By following the directions Griselda Ann had recited before she left the house at seven thirty that morning, Addie arrived at the library within the predicted half-hour span of time. She pattered up the front steps, crossed through the building’s vestibule, and started for the little room where the time-punch machine for employees was kept.
“Pssssst, Addie.” Griselda Ann waved her over to the main checkout desk.
Addie changed directions