Chapter 10

He led her deeper into the woods, taking a sharp turn every now and then and Belle hoped he knew his way around, because she no longer had any idea were they where.
Suddenly she became aware of the sound of running water and she paused.
"Is this were the lake is? Dove told me there was one."

He smirked, his posture finally relaxing. "Not quite… you'll just have to wait and see. It's just around this corner."

As they continued to walk, the rustling sound of streaming water grew stronger and when they rounded the corner, Belle stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth falling open in surprise. They weren't standing at a lake, but at a rather wide stream.
In the middle of it stood a gigantic waterwheel, almost fifteen feet tall, making the water that cascaded down from it almost look like a waterfall.

It's most impressive feature however was the enormous clock that was assembled on top of a tower that enclosed the waterwheel. Pipes went down on either side of it, connected by a complicated structure of cogwheels and gears.

For a moment she wondered how she'd never noticed the tower before, but then her eyes fell on the tall pine trees surrounding the area and she understood how they would obscure the tower from view.

"Amazing…" she whispered awestruck. "Is it connected tot he factory?"

Gold nodded, the gleam in his eyes showing how proud he was of his life's work. "The water wheel is connected to the steam engine, the power of the water enabling it to work. The engine in turn fuels all the appliances in the factory.
The clock you see on top of the tower is connected to the one in the factory. It reacts to fluctuations in the stream and if need be the production process in the factory can adjust to that."

"When was this build?" Belle asked, slowly approaching the massive structure, craning her neck to take it all in.

"Dove build it… when my father founded the factory." Gold replied, his voice slightly strained.

The small tremor in his voice didn't go unnoticed and Belle turned around to look at him quizzically. "Your father build the factory? I never knew that."

He nodded slowly, staring away from her at the water wheel. "He passed the factory on to me and I intend to pass it on to my son."

Now she was truly floored. "You have a son?"

His gaze riveted back to her and when he gave her a startled look Belle realized he had probably told her more than he'd intended to do.

"I have…" he replied eventually. "His name is Baelfire and he's ten year's old. His mother and I… separated almost immediately after he was born. We don't get along well… we probably never should have started… although…"

A small smile curled around his lips and when he looked up at her, his eyes were warmer than she'd ever them before. "Whatever we did wrong… that marriage gave me Bae, so I'll never truly regret it."

"Do you see him often?" Belle asked him softly. Her heart fluttered and she scarcely dared to breath, terrified to ruin this unique moment of openness between them.

His mouth twisted, a look of pure pain crossing over his face. "My ex-wife moved to Nottingham and took him with her and after that things between us grew progressively worse," he told her dejectedly. His shoulders lumped down and he heaved a heavy sigh before he looked up again to meet her eyes. "I haven't seen my son in four years."

Belle's heart ached for him. There was so much more to his loneliness than met the eye. His son was obviously the most important person in his life and his ex-wife had taken him away from him.
"You must miss him very much."

"I do," he agreed simply, all pretense gone. "But I hope he'll return one day and join me at the factory. That's why it's so important, that's why I want the factory to do well. Because one day, it's all going to be Bae's."

Gazing up at the enormous clock, admiring how the pointers shone like pure gold in the light of the sun, Belle smiled.
"From where I'm standing, your factory is very impressive."

He smiled back at her and for a moment all of his traits and mannerism were gone. And in that moment Belle stopped being so very awe-struck by him. He was just a man.
A rather lonely, deeply caring, very layered man.

And the urge to reach out to him and wrap her arms around him, to kiss the frown away from his face and make the lines around his eyes crinkle with laughter almost became overwhelming.

Startled by the sudden rush of emotion that washed over her, Belle felt almost relieved when he beckoned her closer towards the stream.

"Look," he told her, indicating the water. "The stream origins from a spring deeper within the forest and eventually merges into the lake."

Bending down to look for herself, Belle could see that the water was so crystal clear that she could actually see the rocks lying on the bottom of the stream.

"You could drink it without becoming ill," Gold said. "It's what makes the water wheel run so smoothly. If the water became contaminated, the wheel would falter…"

"… and cause great problems for the factory." Belle finished, understanding the significance of what he was telling her.

"It would ruin the factory," he told her bleakly. "It would take months, if not a year to clean the wheel and the pipes… and not to forget the engine… not many people know of the wheel, barely anyone ever comes here."

He had shared something with her that he, for obvious reasons, kept very close to his heart and Belle felt her insides warm with joy. He'd never been this approachable, this much off guard around her and the thought that she'd finally earned enough of his trust for him to open up to her made her head spin.

And all of a sudden, she couldn't get enough. She wanted to know everything about him. Not just his knowledge and techniques about chocolate making, but the man behind all that. His hopes and dreams and fears. She wanted him to trust her the same way she trusted him wholeheartedly. She wanted him to be happy - wanted to be one who made him happy.

She could feel both mortified and excited about it later, but it finally dawned on her:

she had fallen for him.

She wrote dutifully to her father every week, telling him about everything she'd learned, sharing funny anecdotes Dove had told her and asking after the business in Avonlea.

Her father wrote back just as swiftly, writing about Avonlea - apparently new health and safety measures had been issued after she'd left and no one was allowed to spend more than an hour and a half outside, even when wearing protective gear - and the condition of 'French Fries'

A little to her surprise, Gaston had continued to involve himself in the running of the company and with her gone he had managed to institute some changes she had vehemently opposed upon when she'd still been in Avonlea and she shuddered at the thought of how she was going to find her family's business at her return and if she'd ever been able to incorporate the knowledge she'd gained at Gold's factory in Avonlea.

She studiously avoided mentioning Gaston's name in her letters, but her father had no such scruples and wrote enthusiastically about him, making Belle realize once again that as far as her father was concerned, her break-up with Gaston was only a temporary situation.

The thought of having to return to Avonlea began to weigh more heavily on her heart with every week that passed.
For as long as she remembered, re-opening her mother's shop had been the dream that had kept her going, that had given her the courage to go on, but lately she began to feel like there was perhaps another route for her, another path to walk.

The recently installed marzipan appliance in the factory didn't yet function fluently, so on a dreary, rainy morning, Belle followed Dove to one of the many towers of the house that functioned as an attic were supplies and replacements for appliances were stored.

"Mr. Gold allows me to use to use this part of the house as a treasure chest," the older man explained to her as he led her inside. "I store many inventions that I've tinkered with over the years here. There must be a grinder up here somewhere that should be suitable for the machine."

The place could indeed best be described as a treasure chest Belle realized as she looked around in wonder. Many finished, half-finished or abandoned inventions were stacked on shelves, appliances she barely recognized, everything from clocks to small steam engines.

"I might need to dig a little before I find that grinder," Dove warned her. "Feel free to browse…"

There was enough to see to keep her occupied for many, many hours and Belle happily strolled past the shelves, examining every object that struck her fancy. There was a small, metal hand holding a pen and she assumed it could be used for taken notes, a lot like the much more automaton was doing in Gold's workroom.

There was an ingenious machine that made it easier to read books and protecting them at the same time.
Belle, who'd been terrified of ruining one of Mr. Gold's valuable books by leaving it on the workbench as she worked on a recipe and staining them with chocolate and other ingredients thought that this particular machine might be of better use in the workroom than stored away at the tower.

There were writing balls, some sort of sewing device and many, many different kinds of clocks and hourglasses.

But it wasn't until she came across a small pedal plane, parked underneath one of the shelves that she stopped in her tracks. Crouching down to examine it more carefully she noticed it was exquisitely made. The plane was painted a deep emerald with golden propellers and had many amazing details, from the small lights on the wings to the scale-build helm control inside and the small, leather seats. The plane was big enough to hold a small child and Belle wondered if it had ever been used as a toy. Every little boy, or girl for that matter, could only dream of having a plane like that.

"Miss Belle… I've found the grinder I'm looking for. I'll send a few of the boys up to carry it do-…" Dove's voice faltered when he noticed what she was staring at, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the aisle.

"Dove, look what I found!" she enthused. "Look at it… it's magnificent. Do you think it really flies?"

For long moments the giant man didn' reply and when he finally spoke, his voice was so soft it was barely audible.
"It used to…only a few feet above the ground of course, but it could fly."

The longing and sadness in his voice caused Belle to turn around, alarmed to find that his eyes were moist and that he'd gone deathly pale.

Jumping to her feet she crossed the aisle to where he was standing, gently placing her hand on her arm.
"Dove, are you all right?" she asked worriedly.

The big man gave her a small nod and squeezed her hand affectionately. "I am. It's just…" He sighed deeply, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "I haven't seen that plane in many years…"

"Would it help if you told me about it?" Belle asked carefully.

Dove smiled sadly, giving her hand another squeeze. "It would, Miss. If I could find the words… but I can't."

Covering his large paw with her other hand, Belle rubbed it soothingly, hoping the small gesture would alleviate some of the heavy sadness that suddenly rolled off him in waves.
"How about a cup of tea then?" she suggested, relieved when he smiled at that.

"Now there's a sound plan, Miss."

She let him down the stairs, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked back to his apartment.
He let her fuss over him and told her a few amusing stories about the factory. But as she watched him, Belle could tell his was mostly putting up a brave fond, the slight tremor in his hand as he lifted his tea cup indicating that he was still deeply upset.

It appeared that she'd stumbled on yet another secret.

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