"I declare, if Cartwright tells one more of our girls to work faster, I'm going on strike," Jack declared as she and Minnie began the walk home after work.

Summer set over the wheat fields surrounding the factory, the warm sun glinting off of the honeyed stalks that were nearly ready for harvest. Jack only caught glimpses of the beauty through the dirt-stained windows in the factory though she had become distracted more than once by the beautiful day she could not enjoy. However, after the conversation with her friends after church on Sunday, Jack was determined to do everything she could to support the war effort, even if that meant working long hours for meager compensation. She would contribute however she could.

"He's not as bad as McPherson," Minnie reminded Jack, bringing to mind the image of the corpulent fellow with the greased mustache who had held Jack's position prior to the incineration of the factory. "Deirdre still won't use the outhouse ever since he was lurking out there."

Jack shivered at the memory despite the sultry heat of the day, remembering the foreman who had haunted any girl he found alone. Though Cartwright was a difficult enough boss, McPherson had been far worse. Cartwright had finally fired the man, but not for his many indiscretions; no, he had been fired for wasting the workers' time with his unending pursuits and for his negligence of the safety protocol that had ultimately led to the factory fire.

"I suppose we should count our blessings," Jack admitted begrudgingly.

"We should. At least we still have jobs."

"And each other," Jack added, her errant thoughts conjuring an image of Donovan.

Minnie's eyes remained fastened on the dirt road before them where wagon wheels had formed hardened ruts in the ground. She said nothing in response to Jack's statement and did not even give an assenting nod. Jack studied her for a moment, wondering what had sparked the sudden silence. Jack had known the reticent woman for years and still felt as if she didn't truly know her. Minnie was reserved and guarded, much like Donovan, but instead of concealing her secrets behind charm and civility, she simply remained quiet when something weighed heavily on her.

The women continued on in silence and Jack's black boots changed color as dust clung to the edges of the worn, wrinkled leather. As she considered Minnie's secrets, her thoughts invariably wandered to Donovan and her cheeks warmed at just the thought of him.

"Minnie, I have to ask--can I trust Donovan?" Jack blurted out, thinking of the challenges her friends had issued about the man. "Because I think he's a fine fellow, but you mentioned that he was in trouble and the Good Lord knows I don't need any more of that in my life, and--"
Minnie cut off Jack's babbling, her voice sharp. "He's not just a fine fellow; he's a good man, Jack. This trouble isn't his own fault, and don't you hold any of that against him. He's one of the best men Julius and I know, and I won't hear nothing bad said of him." Minnie stopped and drilled Jack with her gaze as she lauded Donovan's attributes, her hands on her narrow waist.

Jack smiled at Minnie's words despite the sternness of her friend's expression. She was reluctant to let herself become involved with a man who had a reputation for trouble, but if Minnie was right, if whatever it was that haunted him wasn't his fault, then there was no reason for Jack to keep her distance--not that she'd been all that successful in her previous attempts at guarding herself.

"Oh, I'm happy to hear it!" Jack said, her smile widening. "If you and Julius say he's a good man, then I have no doubts."

Jack continued to walk but stopped in her tracks when she realized Minnie remained standing in the road. Minnie watched Jack with an unfamiliar expression on her face, finally crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin.

"Do you fancy Donovan, Jack?" Minnie asked in her no-nonsense way.

Jack's face heated instantly. "Fancy him? Why, of course not!" Jack said quickly, hoping Minnie wouldn't notice the tomato color blossoming on her face.

Of course she didn't fancy him. How could she? She was a dyed-in-the-wool spinster, guaranteed to live out the rest of her life as an old maid. And she knew little about Donovan, if he had a wife or a family elsewhere, though something about his behavior was not the way an honorable married man would treat a woman. She fancied no one.

"Are you certain? That blush on her face tells me something different."

"Of course I'm certain," Jack said, marching away from Minnie towards their homes with determination. "This is utter foolishness--what are we, two schoolgirls gossiping about our beaus? I won't waste my time on such nonsense."

Minnie caught up to Jack with a low chuckle. "Utter foolishness, I'm sure."

"I do like the fellow," Jack said, emphasizing the word like and hoping such terminology would downplay her affection. "He's quite interesting, and he makes for pleasant company. In fact, I was hoping I could invite him to town this evening--not courting or anything of the like. The girls and I are planning a benefit dance to sell war bonds and get resources for the hospital, and we're going to do a Ragtime dance demonstration. I'm in need of a partner, and I thought he would do quite nicely."

Minnie's chuckle deepened to a roaring laugh and she slapped Jack's arm as they walked. "Sweet mercy, Jack. You do fancy him."

"I do not!" Jack cried, wishing she sounded less like a petulant child and more like a determined, independent adult.

"You do, or you wouldn't be asking him to escort you to a dance."

The way Minnie restated Jack's proposal sounded far more serious than Jack had intended and rather too much like courting. "Well, it's not quite like that--"

"Don't worry, I won't say anything." Minnie said though a smile played at her lips. "I didn't expect anything like this to happen--he's a quiet sort of fellow, but he seems to get on well with you."

"I--I don't think he likes me, Minnie. We're friends, and that's the end of it," Jack said though she wondered if she believed her own words. She had no idea if Donovan had any interest in her, but she couldn't deny that she found him fascinating and entirely unlike the men she'd encountered before.

"Well, invite him to your dance and see what happens," Minnie advised as their twin houses came into view. "He's not the sort of man to express any feelings that aren't genuine."

"Friends, Minnie," Jack reminded her, trying to convince the color of her face to fade. "Only friends."

"Well, then," Minnie said, the saucy grin still on her lips. "Why don't you ask him now and we can see how he responds?"
"Fine," Jack said with a growl, walking with Minnie to the door of their small home.

Though she had planned to stop by later and ask him to come with her this evening, Jack would have preferred to wait until her face wasn't stained with black from the TNT and her hair in a bird's nest on her head. But what did she care how she looked if they were friends?

Minnie started to chuckle again as Jack walked up the crooked front steps and wracked her knuckle against the door, a hand on her hip in defiance. When the door opened, Donovan appeared in only a shirt and a pair of pants, obviously not expecting any visitors besides the Bookers.

"Um, good day," Jack said. "I was wondering--are you busy tonight?"

"Hello, Jack, Minnie," he said with a disarming smile. He leaned against the doorframe and offered a wave to Minnie. "You look as if you've labored hard today." Jack reached for the dirt on her cheek and swiped at the stain. "This evening, you said? Is there some town event to which the fine people of Irvington neglected to invite me?"

"No, but I'm sure that if there were, I wouldn't know about it either," Jack said, her ease returning as she remembered their familiar banter. "Corrie and Christina and Hannah and I, my nieces and the doctor's sister, will be holding a dance to raise money for the hospital, and I thought--well, you mentioned that you were sympathetic to the injured soldiers. I thought you might like to come. With me."

Jack lifted her chin and refused to blush like a schoolgirl asking her beau to a dance. Instead, she gave Donovan a winning smile. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes jumping from Jack to Minnie and then to his car, and Jack wondered if she'd overstepped their tenuous friendship.

"If you don't want to go--"

"No, I would love to. I would be happy to go with you, Jack," he answered, his words hurried. "If I'm invited. I don't want to stir up trouble."

Jack suddenly understood his hesitation, thinking of the discriminating words uttered by her friends and the ignominious reputation that seemed to hover over Donovan like a storm cloud. "Well, maybe some trouble needs to be stirred," Jack said. "You shouldn't have to stay away from the town simply because you're Powhatan. That's just ridiculous."

Donovan smiled at her, his eyes limitless and clear. "Your friends won't mind?"

"We want you to come," Jack said though her friends would be surprised at her choice of a partner. "This evening? At the hospital?"

"May I drive?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll see you in just a few minutes, Miss Jack," he said with a decorous nod of his head.

Jack spun on her heels before Donovan could see the pleased flush on her face. Minnie winked at her as Jack walked back to her house, but even that couldn't tarnish Jack's joy. Perhaps she didn't fancy him, but she did rather like him.

Jack returned to her house and exchanged her soiled work clothes for a plain muslin dress, embellished only by a lace collar. She replaced her worn work boots with scuffed black shoes with a kitten heel, just enough to emphasize Jack's towering height without making her resemble a giraffe.

By the time Jack exited her house, a rosy flush in her cheeks, Donovan too was ready with a black jacket, far finer than any garment Jack owned, resting across his lean shoulders. He lounged against the Model T, the black paint sparkling in the setting sun, and he smiled when he saw Jack.

"You're looking much improved, Jack," he said, "at least from your factory garb and farm wear."

"Well, that's a low standard indeed though I can't say I dress much to the fashion even in Irvington," Jack said, glancing down at the worn muslin, fraying at the hem.

Donovan opened the door for her, then took a step back and admired her, his eyes roving over her with a slight smile. "Well, I think I preferred the dress tangled about your legs when you were standing in the tree and pelting me with eggs."

Jack laughed. "You're much more likely to see that again than this old muslin."

Donovan closed the door behind her and climbed in on the other side, revving the engine and speeding towards town. He did not drive slow and carefully like Mr. Bricker, the Walkers' butler, or like the few others in town who owned automobiles. His hands took hold of the wheel, turning it with ease and familiarity as the car sped over the road as an eagle soars over land.

They met at the church which Reverend Smalley had agreed to let them use in preparation for the event. Dr. Benjamin and Corrie had found a small quartet of older gentlemen from the University of Richmond who played the newfangled music and would come to IRvington for the event. Tonight, however, Jack, Donovan, and the rest would dance to the off-tune record player kept in Reverend Smalley's rectory. Donovan pulled the Model T next to the church, the screeching of the tires attracting the glances of every passerby within hearing.

Jack's face was still flushed as she clambered out of the car, and when Donovan offered his arm, she couldn't help but take it. Her fingers laced around his bicep, the satin coat soft against her fingertips. Though a man who exercised his brain more than his muscles, Donovan was lean and fit--now, Jack would have to discover if his athleticism transferred to dancing. 

So what do you think? Does Jack fancy Donovan? And what sort of trouble are the pair bound to stir in Irvington? Let me know your predictions in the comments!