Will of Steel

by Lynn Landes

  Jordan drops her head, “Thank you for the reminder,” she sniffs as she looks at her father.

  “Imagine what Erin will teach him,” her father teases.

  “He’s lucky to have you all,” she replies with a smile.

  “Now, tell me about work,” he says as he accepts a dish to dry.

  “Orson Barnaby came by today,” she hands him a plate and scrubs another as he rinses and dries it.

  “What did he want this time?” her father asks, taking a spoon and fork to rinse.

  “He asked me to marry him.” Jordan jumps when her father drops the silverware onto a plate, shocking them both.

  “What?” he gapes at her.

  Jordan sighs, “I know, it came as a surprise to me too.” She continues washing, and just as they finish up her mother returns.

  “Let’s have tea in the family room,” she suggests. They get settled and Jordan recounts the conversation.

  “I just don’t understand it. Regent Steel is not competition. We have nothing to offer. Why is he so desperate to own it?” Jordan asks.

  “Perhaps, it isn’t the company that he’s after,” her mother suggests stiffly.

  “Yes, Mama, he made that very clear too,” Jordan snaps and wraps her arms around her middle. Her father’s eyes darken.

  “Do I need to talk to him?” Anger simmers in his blue eyes, identical to her and Erin’s.

  “No, Papa. Mark was with me, but Orson definitely wasn’t happy.”

  “Did he threaten you?” her father asks.

  “Not directly,” she sighs and looks into the fire.

  “Are you considering his offer?” her mother asks softly. “It has been two years, Jordan. Johan would want you to get on with your life.”

  “Not with him!” Jordan drops her head and struggles to hide her feelings while her parents watch. “Everyone keeps telling me how long it’s been since Johan died. Believe me, I’m aware of the passing of time. I do want to have a family, but I won’t just marry someone because it’s good for business or he thinks I’m pretty enough.” She looks up at them, “I want what you have. Do you want less for me?”

  “No,” they both say in unison and she nods.

  “Good. I must get home. I have some more boxes of files to get through. I’ll see you on Friday.” She hugs them and insists they rest. “I can see myself out.” Jordan stops at the door and looks at them, “I love you both.”

  “We love you too,” her father says as her mother grips his hand.

  “See you soon.”

  Jordan rides in silence for three blocks and walks into the small house that she’s called home for the past four years. Johan insisted that they live close to work and her parents, and she’s very grateful for that. The staff is minimal with one housekeeper, Taylor and her husband, Douglas, who works as the doorman and butler.

  They live with her and spend more time at her home than she does. “Tea, Jordan?” Taylor asks.

  “Yes, please. I will be in the office. It’s time to finish going through Johan’s boxes.” She walks inside and stares at the rows of stacked boxes. After Johan’s death, they delivered everything that was in storage to the house. She couldn’t afford the rent on the unit. It is shameful that she couldn’t go through them until now. The first few months after he drowned at sea were rough. When she finally resurfaced, it was to a failing business.

  Jordan stiffens her spine and opens the fifth box. Douglas works on carrying out the trash pile that accumulates after five boxes. “Taylor, thank you, but I can finish up. Tomorrow, I will take Mark and Felecia up on the offer to help me. You two have done enough, thank you.”

  “It’s good to get through this, Jordan. We’re here if you need us,” Douglas reassures her.

  “Thank you. It’s time, I think.” She waits until they leave to draw out the last handful of files only to discover a cigar box at the bottom.

  “Oh, I remember this,” she is smiling as she draws it out. It’s a lovely wooden cigar box with little brass hinges. The top says, ‘Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.’ Jordan traces a finger over the side, which is printed with the year 1888.

  “How can two years have gone so fast,” she whispers as she slowly lifts the box lid. The scent of tobacco still lingers, and she sniffs back a tear. “I hope I’m making you proud, Johan,” she closes the empty box and sets it on top of the table. Yawning, she rises and as she moves past her skirt catches the box, throwing it to the wood floor.

  “No,” she gasps and drops to her knees to pick up the pieces. The bottom has separated from the sides, and when she lifts it up, she gasps. “What’s this?” Inside is a false bottom with a letter and a strange-looking key tied with a gold ribbon. “Oh, I remember this ribbon. It was in my hair that Christmas.” Tears threaten as her heart trembles. “I can’t believe he kept it,” she murmurs as she walks over to sit next to the lantern and read.

  “Mrs. Jordan Regent, York, Pennsylvania, First National Bank, Safe Deposit box number 65.”

  “What is this, Johan, and why is it hidden like this?” Her stomach rolls with nerves. “I guess I’m going to York, tomorrow.”

  Later, sitting on the edge of the bed, she frowns at the brass key. Frustration courses through her body. The years before Johan died had been hard. He was traveling and working long hours. They barely had time together and when they did, they argued. Her love for him was as strong as the day she married him, but at seventeen her idea of marriage was naïve.

  Johan wanted to provide for her, and she wanted time with him. When he began to travel for work, he suggested she work at the office. She agreed, hoping it would bring them closer together, but it only allowed him to travel more frequently. If she questioned him, he would grow defensive.

  She places the key on the side table and lays down only to stare at the ceiling. “I hope this brings some closure, Johan. I’m ready to make some changes. I want a family and children of my own. This business was not my dream. You were,” she sniffs and rolls over to grip his pillow.

  The last fight before he died, she had said exactly those words to him. Disappointment had filled his eyes, and he packed a bag and left a day early, leaving her crying.

  “Sometimes the truth hurts, even if we don’t mean for it to,” she whispers before she falls into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter 3

  “Mark, I need you to handle things for the day. I will be out of the office today and tomorrow. I’ll be back on Friday morning.” Jordan explains after the morning meeting.

  “Of course. Where are you going?” he asks as they walk through the hallway. She glances at the staff exiting the room and hurries to grab her travel bag stashed in her office.

  “I’ll fill you in on the way to the train station,” she whispers, and he takes her bag while she pulls on her coat and grabs her handbag. “My train leaves in an hour.”

  Mark listens as he drives her and argues, trying to talk her out of going alone. “You don’t know what’s waiting, Jordan, or if someone is watching this building.”

  “It will be fine, I’m sure. Johan wouldn’t have sent me somewhere dangerous. In fact, I think he chose it precisely for that reason. I’ll be back by lunch tomorrow. I plan on spending the night and taking the first train out in the morning. York is known for its shopping district, and Erin’s birthday is coming up. I will get some rest like you keep telling me I need,” she teases.

  “I don’t like this at all, Jordan,” Mark huffs as they stop in front of the train station.

  “I understand, but I need some answers, and this might be what I’ve been waiting for. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jordan jumps out and grabs her bag, hurrying to board the train.

  Mark watches her leave and sighs. “I hope you know what you’re doing Jordan.”

  Jordan boards the train and takes a seat. She nervously stares out the window and prays the same thing. It’s only a two-hour train ride. Hopefully she can get some shopping done tomorrow for Erin’s birthday next month. Sh
e is turning seven on the third of September. Jordan distracts herself by planning Erin’s party as the miles pass by. Paranoia has her glancing around nervously, it feels as though someone is watching her. This is going to be a long trip, she thinks.

  West boards the train and sits in economy class to avoid being seen. When she departs the train, he follows Jordan to the 1st National Bank and smiles when she goes inside.

  “Finally,” he hisses.

  Jordan stares at the brick building and takes a deep breath before entering. Her eyes take in the strange-looking lobby. It looks like a bank lobby, but with a desk behind a cage.

  “May I help you,” a nicely dressed man asks.

  “I hope so. My name is Jordan Regent. I need to see box sixty-five.”

  “Absolutely,” the male clerk smiles. He flips pages on a large book, seeking her name, and slides her a piece of paper with the dollar amount for the rental fee. “You’ll need to pay the rental fee, first, Mrs. Regent.”

  Jordan draws out her bag and slides the money to the clerk. “Follow me,” he says and walks to the elevator.

  “Tell me how this works,” Jordan asks.

  “It’s really very simple. We secure items that banks can’t or won’t. You will enter a private room and when you’re finished, you can close the account or leave whatever you wish inside for a fee.”

  “I see,” Jordan follows him quietly to a room with a wooden table and two wooden chairs.

  “Please wait here,” he leaves, while Jordan sits nervously waiting for him to return.

  A few minutes later he returns and places a tin box on the table with a thunk in front of her. He spins it around with the lock facing her. The number sixty-five is painted on the top of the box.

  “Take your time,” he leaves, closing the door behind him.

  Jordan draws the key from the chain around her neck and slips it into the lock. She turns it with a click, and gasps when the lock pops open. Lifting the lid, she stares at two letters with Johan’s handwriting and eight sample bars of steel. She picks up one of the bars noting that it is only half inch thick and four inches long by one inch wide. Dropping the bar with a frown, she picks up the first letter and reads.

  Dearest Jordan,

  If you are reading this, then it is as I had feared. I am sorry Jordan for leaving you this way. I discovered a way to line the inside of a converter with limestone rather than clay. This allows for the steel to last longer than iron, making it perfect for rails. I’ve spent the past year engineering a newer, better, more efficient converter. My hope was to patent this design and partner with the rail yards to begin production using our steel. It will be faster and cheaper to produce. Not only is it easier to make, but the steel is harder and purer, allowing us to use American iron ore rather than buy from overseas. This will not be well received.

  No doubt by now you know that Barnaby Steel is after this design. When I refused his offer, he threatened you and your family. Know that he is not to be trusted, Jordan.

  I’m certain that someone inside Regent Steel is working for Barnaby. Be careful who you trust and travel under a different name. Show this to your father and Mark. They will protect you.

  Only death would make me leave you to deal with him. I can’t prove that he killed me, but nothing matters save your safety. My design is in the second envelope. You can do with it as you see fit. I would never put my business in front of your life, though that is what I have done. Sell this design and make a life for yourself.

  I hope you find peace and happiness and never forget that you were loved.

  Yours truly,

  Johan Regent

  Jordan lays her head on the table and sobs until she has no tears left. The second letter reveals the design drawings with notes for the process and another address. She safely tucks the two letters inside her corset before straightening her dress. What to do with the sample bars of steel? She shoves them inside her corset as well. Standing tall, she cleans her face as best as she can and leaves the box and key on the table.

  “My business is concluded,” she tells the clerk before she makes her way back to the general store. Once inside, she hurries to the window and watches the street in front of the bank. A man appears that she knows, and she hisses in anger. West! He works in production. Jordan’s eyes narrow. “They won’t get away with this.”

  Jordan window shops, picking up a dark navy dress similar to the one she is wearing and turns to the clerk. “I’ll need this packaged and sent to my hotel.”

  A few minutes later, Jordan pays, and asks the clerk to have it delivered to the York Hotel, across from the train station, along with her packages.

  “Thank you,” she walks down the street, straight into the hotel where she books a room for two nights.

  West follows at a discreet distance and waits for her to exit the general store before rushing inside to question the clerk.

  “Could you help me?” Jordan draws a maid inside her room and closes the door. The confused young dark haired woman listens to her request and shakes her head no.

  “I can’t risk losing my job, but I have a sister who needs work. Tell me what you need.”

  While she waits for the girl to bring her sister back, Jordan sews the bars inside the hem of her navy skirt she is wearing. They are heavy, but it’s the best idea she can come up with for now.

  An hour later, she smiles at the young woman named Beth wearing her new dress, and nods. “I need you to have dinner on me, of course, and you may keep the dress. The room is yours for two days. I need you to shop, visit restaurant’s and be me, for as long as possible. Can you do it?”

  “Absolutely,” Beth grins and Jordan hands her a wad of cash.

  “This should cover your expenses.”

  Beth’s eyes well with tears as she stares at the money and drops into a chair. “Thank you.”

  “No, you are helping me, Beth. Just be careful. If a man approaches you, tell him the truth. That I paid you. I won’t have you hurt because of me. Now, enjoy your dinner in the restaurant.”

  “I will.”

  Beth’s sister returns, “I have a wagon waiting for you to take you to the train station outside the employee entrance.”

  “Thank you.” Jordan waits for Beth to leave for dinner, and the maid guides her to the employee entrance. Her wagon is waiting. Hopefully she will have a day or two lead on him before he realizes he has been tricked.

  Chapter 4

  Jordan hurries from the train, waving down a carriage. The sun is setting, and she wants to talk to Mark before he leaves for the day. “Take me to Regent Steel and hurry!”

  Mark is in his office when Jordan rushes inside with her bags, followed by Felecia. “Jordan! I thought you were in York until tomorrow?”

  “Mark!” Jordan bursts into tears the moment she sees him, and Felecia closes the door as he guides her to a seat. She pours a glass of water and rushes over to Jordan as he tries to calm her down.

  “Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” he watches as she draws out a letter with a trembling hand and offers it to him.

  “It’s from Johan,” she whispers as she sips on the water. “It explains everything,” she sniffs and jumps up to pace while Felecia and Mark read over the letter.

  Mark looks at his wife in anger and shock, “Why didn’t he tell us? What was he thinking going against a company the size of Barnaby alone?”

  “He was thinking of protecting us all. I will talk to my parents in the morning, but Mark, there’s more.” She tells him of West following her to York and he jumps up in outrage.

  “We have to take this to the police!” Mark insists.

  “Jordan, you are staying with us tonight. I don’t think it’s safe for you to be alone,” Felecia insists. Relief is instant. She grips Felecia’s hand.

  “Thank you, I haven’t felt safe since I read his letter.” Mark offers it to her, and she folds it up and tucks it inside her bag. “We will go to the police first thing in the morning, after I
speak to my father. I want to make sure they are safe.”

  “What about the design drawings and process notes?” Mark asks. “Where are they?”

  “I didn’t feel safe walking around with them.” Jordan looks away, hoping he doesn’t catch her lie. “I am thinking about what I’m going to do. I would like your advice of course, and my father’s but to be honest I am thinking about talking to a lawyer. I want to know what my options are before I decide.” Jordan sniffs and wipes at her eyes.

  “Let’s go home. You need to rest.” Felecia looks at her husband.

  “I’ll just lock up and meet you at home,” Mark insists and walks them to the carriage.

  His eyes follow them, and he waits until they are out of sight to walk to the production line. He waves over a worker and offers him five dollars to run a message to Barnaby Steel. His hand trembles as he hands over the note, and he prays this is the right thing to do. They have lost enough lives. He won’t stand by and watch anyone else die.

  Barnaby has been trying to recruit him to come work for them since Johan died. His loyalty to Jordan and Johan kept him still, but now that she is thinking of selling, he must look after his own future and family.

  Once Barnaby finds out about this, he will stop at nothing to get to the design. His only hope is that Jordan will let him negotiate for her.

  Orson Barnaby is in his office when the secretary comes inside with a note. “Sir, a runner just dropped this for you.”

  He takes the note and waits for her to leave him alone before he opens it. Sitting back in his chair, he grins and shouts in excitement.

  “Jordan Regent has the design. Willing to meet to negotiate terms of sale.

  Mark Seaborn”

  “Finally!” he jumps up and paces. “Thank you, Mark,” he balls up the note and tosses it into the trash can. “Now that I know she has it, I will force her hand. Jordan will give me that design, and she’ll wish that she had said yes to my marriage offer. Time’s up, Mrs. Regent,” he snarls as he leaves his office for the waiting carriage.