A Woman Like Annie. Inglath Cooper

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      “Well, I’ll be darned.”

      A man in bib overalls and a red plaid shirt stuck his hand out to Jack and said, “You’re Joshua’s boy, aren’t you?”

      Jack shook the man’s hand and nodded. “Yes, sir, I am.”

      “Woulda known you anywhere. Look just like him.”

      The statement was made with a thread of surprise running through it, but mostly gladness, which startled Jack more than a little.

      “I’m Henry Sigmon. Your daddy hired me, let’s see, nineteen years ago, I guess. Company wasn’t such a big thing then. But I needed a job, and he gave me one. Been here ever since. I remember him bringing you to the Christmas lunches. Sure was proud of you.”

      “Lot of good food at those lunches.”

      Henry gave a you-better-believe-it nod. “We’ve got some unbelievable cooks around here.”

      Jack managed a smile, the man’s recollection stirring up an unexpected pang inside him. Even then, he had known his father was proud of him, and there wasn’t anything else in Jack’s life since then that had created that same sense of worthiness. Not a degree from Duke. Nor the career he’d made for himself.

      “Wish this had ended up differently, you know?” Henry’s smile had disappeared, in its place obvious disappointment. “For the last couple years, most of the people here have done what they could to lighten the load. Taking regular pay for overtime hours, closing down the day-care center your father built.”

      “Day-care center?” The question was out before Jack had time to wonder what the man would think about his not knowing such a thing.

      Henry looked surprised but said, “Yeah. Built about ten years ago, I guess. Sure did make a difference for a lot of families. Moms and dads could go spend their breaks and lunches with their children. Not having the expense of child care made working more realistic for a number of people. But no doubt it took a lot to keep it running, so everybody voted to close it six months ago since the company just seemed to keep losing money.”

      Henry shook his head. “Wish we could have pulled it out for you. Would have meant a lot to a good many of us. Being able to do that for your father. It would’ve been a nice way to pay him back for everything he did for us.”

      Jack tried for a response, but the words stuck in his throat. Again all he could do was nod. None of what Henry Sigmon had just said should have made any difference to him. But it did somehow. He’d convinced himself there wasn’t anything personal about the closing of this factory. He had a feeling he was going to be very, very wrong.

      ANNIE SPOTTED HIM from the other side of the crowd.

      It would have been impossible to miss him.

      First of all, he was taller than nearly every other man at the picnic. Second, he looked about as comfortable being here as a cat in the middle of a dog show.

      Her first inclination—the one she would have followed last night while lamenting the fact that anyone could be heartless enough to just auction off this place—was to let him feel the pinch of that a while longer.

      Her second—the one that could not deny that Jack Corbin didn’t seem like a bad guy, just one misled—had her weaving her way through the crowd.

      She tapped him on the shoulder. “You made it,” she said.

      He turned, looking relieved to see her. “Yeah. Even brought some chicken.”

      “No pancakes?”

      A smile touched his too-appealing mouth.

      She took pity on him. Couldn’t help it. She’d invited him here, not sure what his welcome would be. He didn’t strike her as a man to be cowed by much in life, but in his shoes, most people would have been.

      “How about saying hello to a few people?”

      “Sure,” he said with a nod.

      Annie led the way to a group a few yards away. She put a hand on Estelle Thompson’s shoulder and said, “Estelle, this is Jack Corbin.”

      Estelle stepped back to allow the two of them entrance into the circle. “Well, I’d recognize you anywhere,” Estelle said, beaming a smile at Jack. “I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I started working here shortly after your daddy built on the new section.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” Jack said. “It’s nice to see you.”

      For the next fifteen minutes, Annie introduced and re-introduced Jack to as many people as she could. Maybe she could make him see that real people with real families were going to be devastated by the closing of this factory.

      Several dozen introductions later, Annie tipped her head toward the end of the field opposite the bluegrass band where Tommy and a group of boys were hurling baseballs at one another’s gloves. “Say hi?”

      Looking relieved, Jack nodded and followed her through the crowd of people. They stopped a few yards short of the boys’ circle.

      “Point taken,” he said.

      “Hope I didn’t use too big a stick.”

      “Big enough.”

      Annie looked down, feeling more like a bully than she cared to. “For a lot of people, losing their job here will mean having to change their lives, Jack. Moving to another place.”

      Silence stretched out between them, more contemplative than awkward. Annie sensed he was considering her words, weighing them against his own conscience. And suddenly she felt hopeful again.

      “Got a good arm on him,” Jack said finally, nodding toward Tommy who had just thrown the ball to one of the other boys.

      Annie folded her arms across her chest, hoping she didn’t sound like a mother hen when she said, “I almost wish he’d show no talent whatsoever for the sport.”

      “Why’s that?”

      “It’s an awfully hard way to make a living.”

      “Aren’t too many roads that make it easy.”

      “He’s just so determined to be as good as his dad. But what if he’s not? I don’t want him to spend his life feeling like he didn’t measure up.” Annie pressed her lips together. She hardly knew this man. Why had she just told him that?

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