Will of Steel

by Lynn Landes

  “We know exactly what we’re offering you, Mr. Franklin, and we are out of time. They know where we are, and I have to get home to protect our families.” Ryder throws his napkin on the table.

  “I see.” William signals and four men in suits approach the table from different directions. Ryder’s stomach drops and Jordan gapes.

  “Don’t act rashly, Ms. Regent. I’d like to buy your design, and I’ll do you one better than that. I will help you stop Barnaby. I never like him. He has more accidents at his plant due to faulty equipment and poisonous gas, not to mention molten iron explosions. He’s a disgrace to the industry. I’ve heard about his underhanded tactics, though nothing to the extent you're speaking of.”

  Jordan glances at Ryder, “I don’t understand.”

  “If he knows where you are then we know where he will be, and I have ways of dealing with men like him. One of the many perks of running an empire,” he strokes his white beard and laughs softly. “You will stay with me until your train leaves. I have a seven-year-old granddaughter name Camilla, we call her Cammie. She’s the light of my life,” he grins.

  “That’s a very kind offer,” Jordan replies hoarsely.

  “We accept,” Ryder sighs in relief. “Would you happen to have a telegraph at your home?”

  “Of course.” William stands, “My Chef is preparing a meal for us that would put this one to shame. Shall we go?”

  “The choice is yours,” Ryder whispers to her. Jordan glances at them and smiles.

  “Thank you,” she stands, “we should go.”

  As they walk out of the room, Mr. Franklin offers her his elbow and Jordan accepts gratefully. Four guards surround them, and Ryder isn’t sure if he should feel safe or threatened.

  On the ride through the streets of New York, Jordan answers his questions. She explains about the safe deposit box and both men are silent when she tells them the box held the sample bars, with an address to the warehouse, along with the letter and design.

  “What about the building and machinery?” William asks.

  “I’ve decided to sell the machinery, but not the land or building,” she sees no reason to mention that she will share the profits from the sale of the actual building and property with Mark and Felecia.

  “We should include that in the contract,” William tells Ryder. “I’m always looking for equipment.”

  “Excellent idea,” Ryder replies.

  “What about the Patent?” William asks. “Don’t you want to file it in your husband’s name?”

  Jordan is silent as she thinks about it. “I don’t care what you do with it, William. I’ve lost enough,” she wraps her arms around herself and glances out of the window. “I don’t want to be tied to it.”

  “Very well.”

  Chapter 39

  Jordan places the note on the desk in her room and paces. Fully dressed, she waits for the noise to settle and the staff to retire. After spending the next day with William’s family, she knows she can’t risk bringing danger to his doorstep. No one else needs to die because of this design.

  Glancing at the clock she nods. “Two a.m. Anyone with sense will be asleep.” She slips into the hallway carrying her suitcase and moves down the back stairway to the servant’s entrance.

  It didn’t take much to learn how the staff moved in and out of the estate. It’s a stunning five-story brick home across from Central Park. She arranged for a driver to take her back to the Astoria Hotel while they were busy meeting in William’s office.

  Ryder will understand once this is over, at least that’s what she tells herself as she steps into the carriage. The ride through Central Park is busier than she expected. She is quiet as they drive through the park towards the Hotel. When the carriage doesn’t stop, she knocks on the sliding window.

  “You missed my stop,” she calls out, but the drive ignores her. Her stomach drops and she draws a knife from her boot. “Let me out!”

  The carriage picks up speed and finally stops in front of a brownstone. Jordan is ready with her knife the moment the door opens. A large figure of a man stands in the doorway. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Jordan don’t wake the neighborhood,” Ryder hisses and waits for her to speak.

  “Ryder?” her hand trembles as she stares at him.

  “Put that away, and come with me,” he offers her a hand and waits for her to take it.

  Cold and trembling, she slips the blade back inside her boot and grabs his hand, only to yelp when he jerks her forward. He grips her waist and sets her on her feet. They are in front of a brownstone, Ryder pays the driver and grabs her bag and his own, snapping at her to follow him.

  “Mr. Franklin is kind enough to let us use this brownstone,” Ryder opens the door and walks inside, waiting for her to follow. He glances at her and sees the indecision on her face. “You can’t seriously be thinking about running away from me in the middle of the night!” he growls.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snaps and steps into the entry. As she waits for him to close and lock the door, she says, “Ryder, I can explain,” but he shakes his head.

  “Explain what?” he asks as he turns to face her. “That you’d put your own life at risk and leave your sister with no one, for what? Revenge!”

  “I had a plan, Ryder…”

  “No, Jordan, once again you are acting without thinking! How would I explain it to Erin if something happened to you?” he steps into her space and wishes he could shake some sense into her.

  “Enough people have died, Ryder. Did you see that family? Mr. Franklin, his wife, children, grandchildren, all innocent in this. Orson won’t care about that, he will use them, use you to get to me, and it will work!”

  Ryder stares into her eyes and struggles with his anger and fear for her. He strides into the sitting room, leaving her standing in the hallway. Taking deep breaths, he mutters to himself as he stares into the fireplace. William hired someone to care for the property and it is stocked with food and was cleaned for their arrival.

  “Think for a minute about what you just said. How many people has this madman killed? Sixteen? More? How did you expect to take him out by yourself?”

  “I don’t care what happens to me. He needs to be stopped!” Rage billows through her and around, causing her to lash out at him. “He killed them all!” Her voice breaks and she covers her mouth with a fist, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Ryder pulls her into his arms and guides her to the couch near the fireplace. “I know,” he murmurs and she leans into him and doesn’t fight her tears.

  “That’s just it,” she pushes up and turns to face him. “You can’t possibly understand what this feels like,” she holds a fist to her heart. “I’m so angry! I want to watch him pay, I want him to feel every second of pain they felt, I want to know that he isn’t left to walk this earth, enjoying the life he stole from us.”

  “At what cost, Jordan?” he asks softly. “Are you so willing to throw away your life, because then he wins.” Ryder grips her hands gently. “You have to choose, Jordan.”

  “Choose what?” she demands. Eyes full of pain stare into his and he his heart trembles for her.

  “Vengeance or Trust. You can’t have it both ways. You either trust the Lord or you don’t. If your heart is so full of rage, you leave no room for anything else.” Ryder lifts a hand and cups the side of her face, sliding a thumb over her cheek he swipes away a tear. “I really hope you find room for me.”

  Jordan sighs and leans into his hand. “Ryder, I …” she closes her eyes as he leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead.

  “Don’t say anything right now. Just listen.” She opens her eyes and accepts a handkerchief from him.

  “William has a plan in place to deal with Orson and his men. In the morning they will take care of him.”

  “That’s not good enough,” she grips his hand. “Tell me what the plan is. I want to be a part of it. I need to be there.”

  Ryder sighs. He was hoping
to avoid this, that she’d somehow come to see reason.

  “I can’t do that.”

  Jordan snatches her hand away. “Why not?”

  “Because you have a problem with impulse control.” He grins at her look of outrage.

  “I do not!” she jumps up and he follows her.

  “Yes, you do. Which is why I hope you understand that this isn’t personal.”

  Confusion is quickly followed by outrage when he scoops her up and marches up the stairs into a bedroom and sets her on her feet.

  “What do you think you are doing?” she hisses.

  “Saying goodnight,” Ryder backs away and she narrows her eyes at him.

  “Don’t you dare,” the door slams and she shouts and runs forward to pound on it.

  “Ryder, this is ridiculous! You can’t lock me…”

  The sound of keys rings out and she stares in shock when the door is locked. “Good night, Jordan. Sleep well, our train leaves first thing.”

  Jordan whirls around and finds to her consternation that the room she’s in doesn’t have a bedroom window. Only a bed with a dresser. She snatches a book and tosses it at the door, smacking into the wood with a thud.

  “I guess you really do throw things,” he chuckles as he walks down the hall.

  Her suitcase is against the wall and she can only pray that he will come to his senses. Exhausted, he listens to her plead, shout, and curse him, before finally weeping. He closes his eyes and prays for her.

  “Heavenly Father, Bless Jordan with peace, she’s struggling now. Sow in her a hope that surpasses understanding. Grow in her dreams of a future and help her find closure. Help me to be compassionate and understanding. Amen.”

  Chapter 40

  Orson walks to the desk inside the grand Astoria Hotel and smiles at the young clerk. “Good morning, I’m here to meet a friend. Could you give me her room number?”

  “I’m afraid not, Sir. We don’t give out guest information. I’d be happy to let her know you’re here. We have a restaurant, or you can meet her in the sunroom.”

  “The sunroom will be fine. Thank you. My name is Mark Seaborn, I’m here to see Ms. Jordan Regent.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Seaborn. I’ll let her know.”

  Orson gestures to his men and they walk into the sunroom with a glare of anger. He gestures to his guys and they spread out inside the hallway and flow into the sunroom with him. They cover every exit.

  William Franklin watches with the U.S. Marshall. They are sitting in the sunroom enjoying a cup of coffee and discussing business when Orson enters with his group. After fifteen minutes of waiting, Orson is growing antsy. Something feels off about this whole situation. A dark-haired woman in a blue dress walks past the sunroom, drawing his eye, and he grins. “Finally,” he jumps to his feet when the young woman moves away from the sunroom causing him to frown and follow. He gestures for his men to stay back.

  The moment he leaves, the Marshall gives the signal and his officers move in swiftly, seizing all four men.

  “Jordan,” Orson calls but the young woman picks up her pace walking towards the dining room. His eyes narrow and he takes a closer look at the retreating form. This woman is much shorter than Jordan! Setup his mind screams and he runs in the opposite direction, heading for the kitchen. A shout sounds behind him and he knows he won’t have much time. He rips off his jacket as he pushes into the kitchen door. Grabbing a silver cart full of dishes, he shoves it in front of the door and draws his pistol.

  “Show me the nearest exit!” he snarls at the young man washing dishes. His eyes fly open wide and he stammers as he points to the door. “Where does it go?” Orson shouts.

  “The alley! It’s for employees,” the young man stammers.

  “Follow me and I’ll shoot you!” Orson runs through the kitchen, bursting into the alley and spots a wagon being loaded with sheets. “Time to go,” he watches from behind a trash can until they leave to bring out the next load and he makes his move to hide.

  “This way!” he hears a shout and ducks down as the wagon moves away from the hotel and into the busy streets of New York. The moment the wagon stops, Orson leaps down and runs to wave down a carriage.

  “Train station,” he hands some cash to the driver and sits back to think. She set me up! Brilliant and beautiful. He grins as he thinks of the many ways she will pay for this.

  Chapter 41

  Jordan watches New York disappear through the window of her seat on the train. In two hours she will be home… wait, what? Not home, Jordan, she scolds herself. Mr. Franklin’s check will be deposited first thing Monday morning and she will be free. Glancing at Ryder sleeping against the window, she smiles even through her anger.

  He had no right to decide for her, but part of her is thankful that he chose to act. It’s time to grow up and take care of the children. Their future is more important that vengeance. Trust? Who would have thought that giving your trust to someone would be so hard? Drawing out a bible Ryder placed next to her, she smiles when she finds a slip of paper marking Proverbs 3: 5-6.

  “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.”

  I’d like to rely on someone else, she thinks, and sniffs back a stray tear. Sighing, she looks at his sleeping form and hope flutters in her chest. Does she dare trust that the Lord put Ryder in her life with a plan and purpose?

  Jordan continues reading, studying the Lord's words until finally she closes the bible and holds it to her heart. Her eyes fly open and Ryder is staring intently at her. “Will you pray with me?” she whispers.

  “Of course,” he sits up and leans forward, grabbing her hands in his. “Close your eyes.”

  Jordan obeys and listens to his voice as she repeats the words in her heart.

  “Lord, you are a shield around me, strong with love, heavy with power, shaped with hope and gilded with truth. I will fear no evil for you watch over me. You defend and deliver me. In this day, this moment, I put my trust in you.”

  “I put my trust in you,” she whispers and smiles brilliantly through tear-filled eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ryder stands and stretches as she wipes at her eyes.

  “I’m really sick of crying,” she sighs.

  He grins, “It’s a time for new beginnings, if you choose the right path. I will go get us something to eat.” She watches him go and wonders at his words.

  “A new beginning sounds good,” she whispers.

  Chapter 42

  Leon drops the empty canister of kerosene and grins at the group, his white teeth flashing in the seclusion the grove of trees provides.

  “This should be easy. It’s almost sunrise. They will be up soon. Do it just like the brownstone and block all the exits to the house.” Leon points at Sid, “On my signal, you two verify that everyone’s inside, start at the barns.”

  Sid nods and drops his own empty canister on the ground beside the others.

  “Roy,” I need you to take two men and guard the back. If anyone comes out, you know what to do.”

  “I will take the front. Watch the upper windows. If they try to jump, shoot them,” Leon orders. The five men stand and Leon picks up his lantern and strikes a match. The light flickers to life as the sky erupts in the golden rays of sunrise.

  A lone bugle call sounds in the distance.

  Confused, Leon shouts at his men, “Run!!” The five men spin and run, bursting through the tree line into an open field only to skid to a stop. They are surrounded completely by men dressed in all black, with carbine rifles and pistols pointed at them.

  “If you drop your weapons and go peacefully, you might live through this,” Captain Donovan Foster shouts.

  Leon glances at his friends, who are looking to him for answers.

  “You are surrounded by the National Guard of Pennsylvania,” Donovan grins at the shock on their faces. “You might call us a Militia, but
whatever term you use, I can assure you we won’t miss. Drop your weapons!”

  Leon glares at the man in front of him and the hard gleam in his eyes chills him.

  “Drop them,” Leon smirks at Donovan as all five men drop their pistols.

  The men wait for Captain Foster to give the signal and they all jump in shock when his rifle goes off. Leon drops to the ground screaming in outrage as the bullet sinks into the grass beside him.

  “We dropped them!” Sid shouts and all their hands shoot up into the air in terror.

  “I’ve got them Captain Donovan,” the Marshall calls and gives the order for the men to arrest them.

  Donovan glares at the men and thinks for a second about pulling the trigger again but not missing.

  “Sixteen,” he growls as he walks through the tall grass towards them.

  With his rifle trembling in his hand, he lifts it, pointing it directly at Leon, and his finger rests on the trigger. “That’s how many innocent people they’ve killed,” he shoves the rifle barrel against Leon’s head.

  “I was just following orders,” Leon shouts and closes his eyes expecting to be shot.

  “Why are you on my land?” Donovan roars.

  “He said no witnesses!” Sid shouts.

  Donovan draws back his rifle and slams the butt of it into Leon’s knee with a crunch. Leon screams and Donovan snarls, “Who?”

  “Orson Barnaby!” Sid shouts. “He hired us to eliminate the kids and the woman!”

  “Did you get that?” Donovan turns to the Marshall and he nods.

  “Yep. Why don’t you give me your weapon, Donovan?” Jase asks beside him.

  Glancing back at the man, he shakes his head and hands over his rifle. “Probably a good idea. Let’s clean up.”

  Leon sags on the ground, terrified the man would finish him off.