Coal River by Ellen Marie Wiseman

see you as always, Mr. Flint,” he said. Then he saluted the older man with two fingers and walked away.
    The older man laughed as he watched Clayton walk away. “Corner a rat and they always run,” he said.
    “Emma Malloy,” Levi said. “This is my father, Hazard Flint.” He gestured toward the old man with an upturned hand, then did the same to Emma. “Father, this is Otis Shawcross’s niece.”
    Mr. Flint gazed at her, but made no move to shake hands. “I’ll ignore what just happened because you’re new in town,” he said. “But from now on you might want to think about who you’re keeping company with.”
    “Mr. Flint is right,” Frank said. “I warned you about Clayton. He’s nothing but trouble.”
    “We’re only looking out for you, that’s all,” Levi said with a smile.
    “She wasn’t encouraging him,” Percy said. His voice was anxious.
    “I can assure you,” Emma said. “I’m perfectly capable of looking out for myself.”
    “Emma is helping out down at the Company Store,” Percy said. “If that’s all right with the two of you, of course.”
    Mr. Flint considered Emma, his white, bushy eyebrows knitted together. “But isn’t this the young gal who’s bringing the curse of death to Coal River? You don’t suppose she’ll scare off the customers, do you?” He laughed grimly, the hairs of his mustache curling around his lips.
    “Of course she won’t,” Levi said. “Please, excuse my father, Emma. He’s only joking.”
    A fine sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead. “I won’t scare the customers off,” she said. “But from what I’ve heard, you fire people who shop elsewhere. So what choice do your customers have whether they’re scared of me or not?” The words were out before she could stop them.
    Percy’s face went ashen. He latched onto her arm, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Please, forgive my cousin, Mr. Flint. She’s been through a lot and sometimes speaks without thinking. My apologies for disturbing your celebration.”
    “You don’t need to apologize for me, Percy,” Emma said.
    Mr. Flint scowled. “Maybe your cousin is bringing bad luck to Coal River after all. For some people anyway. Try to remember I’m the man who puts food on your uncle’s table, young lady.”
    Levi shook his head as if embarrassed by his father’s behavior. Beside him, the rosy-cheeked woman held a pale hand to her lips, concealing a smirk. Emma turned and stormed across the dance floor, her hands in fists, her face on fire. Who did Hazard Flint think he was, making fun of her and telling her what to do? Was this a mining town or a dictatorship? She fought the urge to go back, to tell Mr. Flint to apologize, to make him understand that her entire family was dead and her heart had been shattered into a million pieces. The last thing she needed was an entire town against her, or someone else running her life. Then she remembered he was the man who made it nearly impossible for the miners to feed their children while they risked their lives making him rich. He was the man who allowed young boys to get hurt and killed in the breaker. It wouldn’t do any good to explain anything to someone like him.
    Fuming, she fought her way through the crowd and looked for Clayton, squeezing between steaming bodies, getting knocked about by drunken men and laughing women. She didn’t see him anywhere. Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe he didn’t believe in anything. Why else would he let Mr. Flint tell him what to do? Why else would he just walk away?
    Desperate to escape the noise and chaos, she lurched through a side door to get some fresh air. Once outside, she closed the door and leaned against it. The yard was empty and quiet except for the muffled thumping of music coming out of the dance hall. Several feet away, a row of evergreens lined the grass, their narrow tops like black arrows against the cobalt sky. A full moon lit up the lawn and gave the night a bluish