Find a Christian store

<< Go Back

Lighter Than Air

By Linda Hoover

Order Now!

LIGHTER THAN AIR





Early summer, 1900

Chapter One

Phineas Higgins was a petty, grudge holding, mean-spirited man. He knew it and made no excuse for it. But tonight, the smile that split his face felt right as he swaggered through his smoky tavern toward the bar. The bartender drew a mug of ale and set it in front of him. “A good night at the gaming table, Mr. Higgins?”
Phineas wanted to shout, but he settled for a triumphant laugh and a slap on the wooden bar top instead. “Best night I’ve ever had.” He chugged the cold, crisp ale, swiped at the foam on his upper lip and thunked down the mug. “Give me another.” The exhilaration of his success brought on a rare moment of generosity. “A round of drinks for everyone!”
A cheer went up as two curvaceous barmaids passed out mugs of ale, one tall with long red hair and the other petite and blonde. Some of the customers slapped him on the back as he made his way to his customary table in the corner of the crowded room, while others raised their drinks to him. He leaned back in the chair, and watched with satisfaction, as the girls served the customers.
The blonde barmaid came close, her skirt swaying as she walked. With a leer, he reached over and pinched her round bottom, making her squeal.
He cackled and rubbed his hands together in a celebration nobody else in the room understood or cared about. Phineas knew those around him had no idea what the celebration was about. They merely enjoyed getting a free drink. And he wouldn’t announce the reason for his glee, either. He couldn’t take the risk.
He surveyed the common room of his tavern, proud of his accomplishments––. The fire in the hearth burned against the chill of the night. Gas fixtures placed evenly around the room reflected warmly against the polished wooden floor and furnishings. The number of people frequenting the tavern gave testimony to the good food and drink served here. A person had only to take a whiff to start his mouth to watering.
Business was good and the income from his gambling meant he had a tidy sum in the bank. It should have been enough to make him happy. And it might have been, until the night the squire came into his establishment for a drink and a game of faro.
Phineas drained his mug, then smiled as he remembered that night. Turned out the man had a weakness for both, and Phineas knew just how to exploit it. He still couldn’t believe his luck. After several evenings in a row, it had come down to tonight, when the squire had left as a beaten man. The fire of satisfaction burned in his middle. In only a few months’ time, he would go from being a mere tavern owner in Brighton to possessing a beautiful country estate. His father would have been proud.
Despite that his smile faltered and his hands curled into fists as he remembered the squire’s daughter, smart enough to manage the estate. He would need to keep an eye on her. He’d take whatever steps necessary to make sure she didn’t interfere.
Phineas held the thought for a moment then forced his hands to relax. He’d deal with that problem later. His pretty red-headed barmaid passed with a tray full of mugs, and he grabbed one. Tonight, he would celebrate.



























Chapter Two

“There’s something I need to tell you, Elena. You’ll want to have a seat.”
At the tone of Papa’s voice, Elena Bishop’s gaze shot to her father. What disastrous news might he deliver? Too much food, drink and too many late nights had taken their toll. His once-fit body was now overweight. His thinning hair was white, and there were perpetual bags under his gray eyes. Today his eyes were red- rimmed, and instinct told her it had nothing to do with drink.
In their study, a place she wouldn’t normally find him, he stood on the business side of the big desk, books and ledgers littering its walnut surface. She set her basket of roses onto the floor and sank into a chair across from her father.
Sorrow replaced the hardness she usually saw on Papa’s face, and it frightened her more than the anger and bitterness that came soon after her mother was killed in the ballooning accident.
She swallowed the anxiety threatening to close her throat. “What is it, Papa?”
He sat with a heavy sigh. “This is all my fault. You’ve kept excellent records, and it’s thanks to your hard work that the estate is in such fine shape. Unfortunately, we have only until the end of the summer to enjoy our home. At that time, we’ll need to find somewhere else to live.”
“What do you mean?” Elena shook her head. She must not have heard him correctly.
Papa slumped back in his chair and rubbed his face. Letting his hands fall to his lap, he met her eyes, and she saw no hope. “I’ve gambled and lost. One drink too many, one game too many are merely excuses. The fact is, I must come up with the money to pay my debt, or I’ll forfeit the estate.”
“There must be some mistake.” With shaking hands, Elena pulled the ledgers toward her and began leafing through the pages. “By the end of summer, the estate will have produced a good amount. And the hotel you invested in in Brighton will have made a tidy profit from the tourist season.”
Papa gently pulled the book away and closed it. “It won’t be enough.” He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his head in his hands.
Elena stared at him. It wasn’t fair. How could she lose both her mother and her home? Despair stood at the door. She could give up and let it in or slam the door in its face.
Her gaze dropped to her hands clasped in her lap. Losing their home was unacceptable. And what of the staff? She and Papa both thought of them as family. What would God want her to do?
She drew a deep breath and stood. “I’m not giving up. I’ve managed this estate by God’s grace these last ten years, and I doubt He’s provided for us so it can be lost now.”
“I’m truly sorry, Elena. I only have until the end of August to wallow in my misery not come up with the money needed. There’s nothing like spending time with the people and things you love, knowing you’re going to lose it all. Ten thousand pounds cannot be raised in a few months, and I won’t go begging to family and friends for it.”
She felt the blood drain from her face and fell back in her chair. “Ten thousand?” she whispered. “How could you think of making such a wager?”
“It doesn’t matter. The deed’s been done, and I don’t think you could ever know how sorry I am for it.”
She closed her eyes, shutting out the hint of tears in her father’s eyes. But resolve stiffened her spine, and she leveled a gaze at him. “I refuse to be defeated. With God’s help, we’ll figure this out.” She stood and left the room. Without pausing, she went out the French doors leading to the terrace and the garden beyond. Her shoes tapped out a quick rhythm as she marched over the sunny flagstones, down the steps and then crunched along the gravel path.
On most days, she could find peace in the clean lines and symmetry of her well-tended garden. Today, she needed the comfort of the old oak by the spring. The flowering shrubs and trees surrounding it made it the perfect place to think and pray in solitude. She’d spent a lot of time there since her mother’s death.
Elena dropped to her knees when she got there and dipped her cupped hands into the spring. She took a long drink of the cold, sweet water. Then, she sat with her back against the rough bark of the oak tree and waited for the wild beating of her heart to slow. When it did, she gazed up at the green leaves and patches of blue above her head. “Well, God, what are we going to do now?”
Bees buzzed amongst the fragrant honeysuckle and bramble rose bushes and birds twittered in the trees. She let her eyes close and soaked in the peace of this place for several minutes. There had to be a way to save their home.
Getting on her knees, she got another drink. As usual, the water refreshed her, made her feel better. Even her father always said it helped to lift his spirits.
That’s it.
She sat back with a bump. People went to Bath in Somerset County to take the water for their health. And families were already coming to nearby Brighton for summer holiday.
In her imagination, brightly colored tents dotted the lawn. Families played croquette, badminton or went for a stroll. She could even provide picnic food, and of course, they’d want to drink the water. It would be a rustic, yet peaceful holiday for families who wanted to get away but couldn’t afford to stay in a hotel in Brighton.
She drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs while considering what would be involved. Tents, recreation equipment, and food didn’t come without cost. How much money could they spend to increase their income? And what of the extra work she’d be asking of the staff? They all, herself included, might end the summer exhausted with nothing to show for their efforts. But what if they didn’t do anything––?
Elena lifted her face to the sky again. “Lord, I believe you’ve given me this idea and You will help us. Thank you.”
Giddy energy filled her. She jumped up, lifted her skirt, and ran all the way back to the house. Hair pins came loose along the way, allowing her hair to tumble around her shoulders.
She made it all the way to the house without tripping and falling. Amazing, considering her tendency toward clumsiness. In her mind, it was a sign that this idea came from God.
Her father was right where she’d left him. Elbows on the desk, head in his hands.
“Papa, I know what we can do.”
He didn’t lift his head. “There’s nothing to do. We’re ruined.”
Elena pulled a chair around the desk and drew it up close to him. “Do you remember the spring and how good the water is?” He didn’t answer, so she went on. “We can turn the estate into a resort. If we host ten or twelve families a week for the rest of the summer we should be able to raise the money we need.”
He dropped his hands and stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “A resort? Here? You plan to keep ten or twelve families here in this house at one time?”
“Of course not.” She laughed, then explained her idea regarding the tents and the recreation, but his expression didn’t change.
“Have you given any thought to how the earl will feel about this, with his estate bordering ours?”
That gave her pause. The Earl could be a bit stuffy. However… “If he was privy to your debt, he’d be glad to know we’re doing something to raise the money ourselves rather than asking him for it.”
“Ha! He’d never give it, anyway. He’s tighter than his father ever thought of being.”
“Let’s not worry about the earl right now.” Elena made a shooing motion with her hand, as if to sweep the thought away. “We’ll deal with issues as they come up. For now, we must remember it’s God’s will for us to keep the estate.”
“You can’t know that for sure.”
“I have no doubt this is where we’re meant to be.”
At least she hoped so. Because, if she was wrong…

Order Now!

<< Go Back


Developed by Camna, LLC

This is a service provided by ACFW, but does not in any way endorse any publisher, author, or work herein.