Epilogue
Nine months later
The Carberry-Hepburn Manufacturing Building
Manchester, England
Graham held Cam’s gloved hand as they stared from the second-floor railing down into the vast work area.
The noise on the floor was loud with the whirring and grinding sounds of machinery.
There were seventy-five workers, cotton in their ears and heavier material over the cotton, tied by a strip of bright red cotton under their chins, a stylish touch, Cam told him and grinned hugely.
It was Carberry-Hepburn’s three-month anniversary.
The business was growing so quickly there were already plans to reconfigure a second warehouse they’d purchased just down the road.
Hiring and training had already started.
So many ideas filled Graham’s brain, but he was still trying to improve the fire-tube boilers because the consortiums that controlled the growing network of trains in England were fast coming around to changing from water tubes to fire in large part due to Graham’s speaking to so many of them—fewer maintenance problems, no more possible explosions.
He spoke to groups on making the fire-tube boilers even smaller, more compact, shown them plans.
He spoke of using clean water to avoid clogs and hot spots.
To the gentlemen’s collective astonishment, Graham gave credit to his wife who’d developed a theorem, based on countless observations, that proved the efficiency and safety of spring water.
Graham felt Ryder’s hand on his shoulder.
He turned briefly to smile at the man who’d saved his life, loved him, housed him, given him so many brothers and sisters, educated him.
He had been his father in those long years when he had no idea who or what he was.
He was his second father, though he never said this to Vereker.
Sometimes he felt his heart would burst with love for this man, for both men.
It was as if Ryder understood the smile, the myriad expressions on his face. He nodded, squeezed his shoulder again. He leaned close to say over the noise, “I am so proud of you, Graham. You are a son of my heart.”
Graham’s father stood beside Cam. There was such pride and pleasure on his face as he gazed around at the vast manufacturing floor. Graham saw him look briefly at Cam’s swelling belly. His second grandchild would be born in four months. Eugenie had birthed a son some months earlier.
Cam felt near to bursting with pride with Graham’s accomplishments, enough pride to make her ignore her aching back, for the most part.
She wondered if Eliza had backaches now she was pregnant.
Cousins, Cam thought, cousins would abound, hopefully.
Her backache disappeared when she saw her father, finally, climbing the stairs, a huge smile on his face.
Doubtless his train had been late, something, alas, that happened all too often. She had thoughts about how to fix that.
Graham smiled down at his wife as she waved to her father.
He leaned down, kissed her ear, prayed she and their son or daughter would be healthy.
He knew well life was so very fragile, so fraught with unknown perils, not to mention simple ill fortune.
You could only forge ahead into the future and hope for more sweetness than pain in the years you were given.
For now, in this moment, it was a very fine day.