Call of the Kiwi Read Free Page A

to prove it, the little boy waddled toward Tim, who picked him up, pulled him onto his lap, and tickled him.
    “Just seven more steps and he can get married,” Tim said, laughing and winking at Elaine. When he had relearned to walk after his accident, his first goal had been eleven steps—the distance from the church entrance to the altar.
    “Don’t read anything into that, Lily,” Elaine said to her daughter, who was preparing a question. Lilian dreamed of fairy tale princes, and “wedding” was her favorite game. “Why don’t you go to the piano and send ‘Annabel Lee’ to the angels one more time while Daddy tells me why he suddenly doesn’t like trains anymore.”
    Elaine poured Tim a whiskey and sat down next to him. He rarely drank, but that day he looked so exhausted and aggravated that she figured a drink might do him good.
    “Florence has been negotiating with the railroad company without bringing in the other mine owners. I found out accidentally from George Greenwood. He has his hands in rail construction too, which enables us to negotiate much better terms. But Florence seems to hope that everyone in Greymouth will just ignore the new tracks so that the Billers will be the only ones to enjoy improved coal transport. Matt and I have asked for a rail connection for the Lambert Mine as well, but I reckon that Florence will have her own depot in a matter of weeks.” Tim sipped his whiskey.
    Elaine shrugged. “She’s a savvy businesswoman.”
    “She’s a beast!” Tim moaned. Florence Biller ruled her husband’s mine with an iron hand. Her foremen and secretaries trembled before her—although there were rumors that one young office employee was treated with favor. Over and over again, one of her employees played the favorite for a short time—three times altogether up until then. Tim and Elaine Lambert, who knew a few secrets about Caleb and Florence’s marriage, had come to their own conclusions since Florence Biller had three children.
    “I have no idea how Caleb can stand her.” Tim set his glass on the table and began to relax.
    “I think her machinations must sometimes be embarrassing to her husband,” Elaine said. “But on the whole, he probably doesn’t care. She leaves him alone as he does her—that was the agreement, after all.”
    Caleb Biller had no interest in managing his family’s mine. He was a private scholar and expert in the field of Maori art and music. He had not wanted to marry, but, lacking the courage to live out his real desires, he had negotiated a marriage to Florence in which they could both be halfway happy. Though he was the nominal head of the Biller Mine, Florence let him pursue his Maori studies and he gave her the chance to be the businesswoman she had always wanted to be.
    “I just wish she wouldn’t manage her business like a pitched battle,” Tim sighed. “I understand she wants to be taken seriously, but she’s not the only one.”
    Early on, several suppliers had tried to use his handicap to deliver inferior goods, assuming that Tim couldn’t oversee the deliveries. Tim, however, had eyes and ears outside of his office. His representative, Matt Gawain, kept a close eye on things, and though Roly had never set foot in a mine again after being buried in one for two days with Tim, he worked with the miners above ground whenever Tim didn’t need him.
    Tim had become a highly respected boss, and no one tried to take advantage of him anymore. Surely Florence Biller could have made peace with all her male competitors, but she instead continued to wage her war with undiminished energy. She wanted not only to make the Biller Mine the leading mine in Greymouth but also to rule the entire West Coast—if not the country.
    “Is there anything to eat?” Tim asked his wife.
    Elaine nodded. “In the oven. It’ll be a little longer. I wanted to talk to you about something beforehand.”
    Tim noticed that her gaze flitted over to Lilian.
    Elaine turned to