Page 20 of The Lady and the Footballer
He groaned as he tried to pry the metal apart, but it was useless – until one of the workers, James, patted him on the back to capture his attention before handing him a crowbar.
It was heavy, made of iron, and Colin worked it into the space between the metal far enough away from Lily to not hurt her before he heaved on it. Workers helped on the other side to force the metal apart until it finally loosened just enough that she could slip underneath it and out of harm’s way.
Colin yanked her free just as the machine sparked, and he yelled out as loud as he could for everyone to back up as the machine collapsed in front of them.
His breath was heavy as he held her close against him, her heart racing fast against his chest.
For a moment, he allowed himself this time to keep her close, to assure himself that she was well, that she hadn’t been harmed.
She clutched him in turn as she shook in his arms, and he could only imagine the fear that had rushed through her.
He realized he could have happily held her forever, but the murmurs and concern around him diminished the yearning as he stepped back abruptly, although he kept his arm out in case she needed to lean on it.
“It’s all right,” he called out. “Stay back from the machine, and we will fix this.”
He turned to look at Miss Evans, whose face was white, her eyes horrified. “Come to the breakroom,” he said in her ear as he led her through the floor, finally sitting her down in one of the chairs, taking another chair and turning it to face her, his knees wide so she was practically sitting between them. The looms stillhummed around them but were slightly quieter on this side of the building. “Are you all right, Miss Evans?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes finally settling on his, holding his gaze. He hoped he could ground her, bring her back to the moment. “I think I’ll have some bruises that will take some time to fade, but I feel all right otherwise. Just… scared.”
“Of course you do,” he said, shaking his head as he muttered, “if that machine had collapsed a moment earlier?—”
“Then you would have had to answer to my father. Yes. I know.”
“I would have,” he agreed, noting the hurt crossing her face quickly before she could mask it. “But that was not what I was going to say. I was going to say that you were in grave danger, and I do not want to think about what could have happened to you.”
She turned those wide blue eyes upon him, so large in her petite face.
“Why would it matter to you?”
“It shouldn’t,” he said, swallowing and looking away. “But I care about… people. I would not want to see you hurt. Even if you should never have been on the factory floor.”
She looked down, her fingers laced together, her knuckles still white. Colin would have liked to have seen to her injuries, but it would never have been proper, given that they were all likely around her middle.
“I saw a girl struggling from the window of the office I was working in,” she said, pointing up to the window that overlooked the floor. “I tried to call out for someone to help her, but from what I could tell, no one had seen her. By the time I made my way to where she had been, however, you must have already come to her rescue. You do seem to have a particular talent for it.”
He couldn’t help but laugh slightly at that. “I call it doing my job.”
“You do it well,” she said, standing, their knees brushing together.
“I’ll walk you back to the offices.”
“You do not need to do that,” she protested, but he was already shaking his head.
“I must do it,” he said gruffly, and she nodded, although he was likely seeing this as a task from her father and not because he felt the inner need to see her safely to where she was supposed to be.
They walked in silence through the building to the overseer’s office, which led to stairs behind.
“Where is the overseer? And my father?” she asked.
“I believe they are in a meeting discussing the next steps for the mill.”
“I hope it is increased ventilation,” she said, waving a hand before her face. “I could barely breathe in there.”
“Trust me, I understand,” he said with a sigh, not wanting to tell her there was no point hoping – it would never happen. The cost would be far too great, and the mill owners refused to acknowledge the human cost of not making the change.
“We have returned to your office,” he said, waving a hand inside. “Please be more careful next time.”
“I will try,” she said, turning to face him in the doorway, and she was close – so close that he could once again smell that distinct perfume, one that reminded him of his mother’s garden on a summer day, when all of the flowers were blooming, and the sun was shining. “Thank you, Mr. Thornton. Truly, thank you. I know you went above and beyond your usual duties, and I will never forget this.”
