Lizbeth Bennet clutched the handle of the wicker basket with hope. The same hope with which she’d gathered each and every wildflower within. Slipping inside the farmhouse, she traded the brightness of day for the dim light of Ma’s kitchen—the very heartbeat of Bennet Hollow.

“Did you spot the new train car, by chance?” Jayne asked from the table, her voice as soft and mountain grown as a wild birch grove. “They say it’s called the Pemberley.”

Lizbeth lowered the basket to the table and handed a sprig of lacy white yarrow to her older sister. “I didn’t wander far enough. Have you seen it yourself? This Pemberley?” Having just come in from the sunny garden, she brushed her hands clean and sat. “Clearly I’ve missed the gossip.”

“I saw it when I walked into town this mornin’.” Jayne examined the contents of the basket. Her golden hair was bound up in rag curlers, and a single band of gray twine wrapped her pale wrist, holding a tiny nugget of violet amethyst that Pa, a geologist, had unearthed in a mine. “It’s the prettiest sight, Lizzy. Brighter than a new penny perched there right on the track.”

Lizbeth rolled back the sleeves of her striped work dress and tried to imagine such a view. A breeze blew cool against her bare neck from the open window, causing her homespun collar to flutter. Her sisters had been on the lookout ever since some weeks back, when the owner of the New River Coal Company had announced his coming guests—a slew of coal barons and investors, all eager to bid on the property that was now for sale.

And the best part of all among the Bennet sisters . . . the dance that would mark their arrivals.

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Until next time, may your reading bring both light and encouragement.

Happy reading!
~ Danielle.