“Why didn’t he take another wife?”
She stopped and met his gentle expression. “He said he could never love anyone as much as he loved my mother. He didn’t think it was fair to make another woman live in her shadow.”
Allan nodded. “Your father is indeed a very wise man.”
“I like to think so. He’s given me great insight and wisdom over the years. He’s always encouraged me—like with my cooking. He knows how much I enjoy it and he helped me get the job here. He’s always telling me to seek the desires of my heart.”
“And what are those desires?” Allan asked in a barely audible voice. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he also might have moved just a little closer.
She longed to change the subject, but wasn’t sure how. Her knees seemed to weaken as she stood there so close to him, gazing into his eyes. The thought of sharing a kiss came to mind and Cassidy felt her face flush.
Footsteps behind them broke the moment as they both turned to look.
Thomas ran up waving an envelope. “A telegram just came in for you, Mr. Brennan.”
“Thank you, Thomas.”
The young man ran back to the hotel while Cassidy waited for Allan to open it.
He stared at it.
“Would you like me to give you some space? I can head back by myself.”
“No.” Allan tore the envelope. “I’d like for you to stay.” He read the contents quickly and then grimaced and sighed. He handed it to Cassidy. “Here, read it.”
22 August 1923Coming to Alaska (stop)Need to discuss business (stop)Expect me on the 28th (stop)Frank
She handed it back to him. “What do you think it means?”
“I have no idea.” Allan looked at the river. “I haven’t heard anything about the audit, and Louis hasn’t sent anything either.” He tapped the paper against his palm. “It makes me wonder what Frank is up to.”
The heat of the kitchen drained the life out of a person. Cassidy couldn’t remember the last time she had perspired so much. And it wasn’t a pleasant thought. She wiped sweat off her neck with a towel and went back to assembling the puff pastry stuffed with asparagus and lemon zest. The buttery pastry was one of her favorites. It made her mouth water to think of the glorious flavors melding together.
But the heat. Goodness, it was almost enough to make her wilt. If they didn’t need the ovens on, it sure would help with the temperature. But the ovens ran day and night to simply keep up with the bread needs for the hotel.
Mrs. Johnson was red-faced and dripping herself, but the woman kept everything going like clockwork. No one could ever complain about the food at the Curry. It was always, always delicious and on time.
Her thoughts drifted to Allan and their walk. Ever since that telegram from Frank, he’d been quiet. And had gone back to brooding. She missed her friend, but she also prayed for him in a new way. The weight of taking care of his family rested firmly on his shoulders. And no matter what she did or thought, something about Frank didn’t sit well with her.
Lord, only You know our hearts. I don’t want to judge Frank without knowing the truth, but my heart aches for Allan and his family. Something scares me about Frank coming here, but I don’t know what it is. Please help to calm my heart. Draw Allan to You. And help me to show Your love to Frank as well.
“Cassidy, you’re looking mighty warm.” Mrs. Johnson came to her station.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s hot today.” She didn’t dare comment on how warm the head cook appeared.
“Well, I know I’m about to melt into a great big puddle, so I imagine you’re pretty uncomfortable yourself.” The woman pulled out a fan and leaned closer. “You’re doing a fabulous job. Especially considering the heat. Thank you.”
Compliments from her boss were few and far between. Cassidy smiled up at her. “If it gets any worse, though, I’m going to want to jump in the frigid Susitna.”
Mrs. Johnson chuckled. “You and the rest of us! Wouldn’t that be a sight? The kitchen staff all floating down the river.” She fanned herself some more. “I wonder what they would do about dinner.” Raising an eyebrow, the older woman smirked.
“They would never make it without you, Mrs. Johnson.”
The rest of the staff seemed busy across the kitchen, so Cassidy decided to brave a question. “I’ve thought about what you said regarding Thomas. I want to say something to him, but I don’t know how to go about it. He’s so sweet and I don’t want to hurt him. I thought maybe you could advise me on what to do—what to say.”
Mrs. Johnson grew quite serious. “Honesty is always the best. Of course, don’t embarrass him by speaking to him in front of others. That wouldn’t be right.”
“Of course not.”
“You might not believe this, but I had my share of young men who I had to disappoint.”
Cassidy smiled imagining a younger, but just as fierce, Margaret Johnson. “I certainly can believe it.”
“Letting others down gently isn’t easily done, that’s to be sure. Even so, it is always best to just explain the situation and move on. Find a time when you can be alone with Thomas. Start with a kindness and then explain the truth of the matter.”
“What do you mean?”
Mrs. Johnson frowned. “Tell him he’s a nice young man or that you admire the way he’s worked hard to change his everlasting clumsy ways. I don’t know. Just say something nice so that it’s easier when something not so nice follows.”
“Do you suppose that will really make it any easier?”
Mrs. Johnson shook her head. “No, I doubt it. He’s quite batty over you, and nothing will make it any easier when he hears that you don’t feel the same way.” She reached over and patted Cassidy’s arm. “Just be gentle and kind. Don’t give him any reason to think you’re looking down on him or making light of his feelings.”
Cassidy nodded. “I would never do that. Thomas is such a fragile soul in so many ways. He told me how hard things were growing up in the orphanage. How the missionaries there forced God upon the children but taught them very little about His love. I’m sure Thomas longs for love more than anything else in his life.”
“We all do,” Mrs. Johnson admitted. Then as if she’d said too much, she turned away and took on her gruff, bossy façade. “Now, I want everyone to pick up their pace. These meals don’t prepare themselves!”
The platform outside the hotel wasn’t any cooler than anywhere else. Allan paced the length of the hotel and back, but nothing could get rid of the gnawing in his gut. He’d telegrammed Louis but had no response. What was going on? And why on earth was Frank coming here?
His long strides ate up the boards but did nothing to ease the anguish.
“Thomas said I’d find you out here.” John stood under the awning, his arms across his chest. “Here, this letter came for you.” He held out an envelope.
Allan walked over and took it. He checked the postmark—Seattle, and nearly two weeks past. Flipping it over, he saw Louis’s name. “Thanks, John. Let’s hope this has some answers in it.”
“Anything I can do to help, or do you just need to read?”
“I’d like it if you would stick around while I read it. I might need your advice.”
“I’ll be here.” John walked over to a bench, took off his hat, and sat down, fanning himself.
Opening the letter, Allan prepared for the worst.
14 August 1923
Dear Allan,
I’m sorry to say that the news I must share with you is grave.
I’ve been fired from Brennan/Irving for embezzlement. Frank actually accused me of stealing. But it’s worse than that. He has accused the whole family of being in on it, stating that we were unhappy with Henry’s will (that Frank inherited half of Henry’s stake in the company). Your mother slapped Frank and ordered him from the house.
Before I go any further, I must tell you, emphatically, that I have never stolen from the company. The accusations from Frank are untrue.
But the story doesn’t end there. Frank has told Mother that he is going to sue if she takes one more penny from the company. He says that he’s been terribly hurt by the unkind treatment and doesn’t understand how we could do this to him. Even worse, he’s been telling the story to other business relations in Seattle. He has tarnished the Brennan name. Your mother says it wouldn’t be right for us to try to defend ourselves right now—it would just feed into the story Frank has told. But this has crushed her. She trusted Frank like a brother all these years.
Uncle Melvin’s firm did indeed do a thorough audit. I’m sorry to be the bearer of more bad news, but somehow the books have been swapped. (I know this for certain because the books presented at the auditor’s findings were NOT the ones that we used day in and day out.) I don’t even know where to begin to find the real ones, and now my hands are tied, since I am not allowed anywhere at the company.
We brought in Josiah Biedermeier to attempt to straighten out the mess, but he’s hit a major roadblock. The audit was done by a family firm that we hired. The man who Uncle Melvin put in charge of the audit was a Mr. Ephraim Henderson. Uncle Melvin assured us he trusted the man. But now Mr. Henderson has disappeared. Along with all of the files from his office.
I know this must be terrible to hear, but it was too much to put in a telegram. I’ve decided to assist a man our lawyer has hired in the search for Mr. Henderson. Somehow, Mr. Henderson must be the missing link to all this confusion.
Through it all, your mother and sisters are well. Emotionally this has devastated them, but they have bucked up under the weight of it and are ready to carry on. We believe that we must be united. There is sufficient money set aside for the running of the household and day-to-day needs. Your father, as you know, was not one to invest all of his money in one place. I will continue to oversee the finances, unless of course you feel me unworthy in light of what has happened. You must think of your mother and sisters first. However, I pledge you and them my loyalty.
As to Frank, he played the martyr well, or perhaps he truly is hurt thinking that we have wronged him. But rest assured, we will continue to seek the truth.
Your mother, Anna, and Ada all send their love and prayers. They had a prayer vigil for you last night, knowing that the receipt of this letter would be difficult.
I will, most likely, not be available for a few weeks as we search.
As to the company, I will leave that up to you to decide what is best. We will do our part to ascertain the facts, and if I have any news, I will telegram immediately.
Your brother-in-law,
Louis
Allan growled and crumpled the paper in his hand. “That man is lower than a snake.”
“Let me guess. You’re talking about Frank Irving.”
Allan met John’s knowing gaze. “None other. The man has treated my family abominably. He has accused the entire family of robbing him blind. And he has ordered them to stay away from the business, fired my brother-in-law, accusing him of embezzlement, and told my mother she is not to have any more proceeds from the company.”
“Are they left destitute?”
Allan shook his head. “No, thank God.”
John smiled. “Do you mean that?”
“Mean what?”
“That you’re thankful to God they aren’t destitute?”
For a moment Allan considered the question. Then he nodded. “I am. It will take God’s intervention to make this right. Frank Irving is quite astute, and it’s obvious he’s the one responsible. I’m willing to bet that if money is missing—he’s the one who has it. Or who had it. Dad said that while Frank had a head for books and the overall running of the office, he was a poor steward of his money. It seemed Dad was always loaning him money or allowing him to draw from the profits, even though they paid themselves a reasonable dividend every quarter. My brother-in-law has brought in the family lawyer to help, so that should afford me an edge.”
“Are you to return to Seattle, then?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. My brother-in-law says things are under control and that my mother and sisters are fine. As he points out, my father was good to diversify his holdings so the loss of Brennan/Irving would be hard, but would not leave my family in financial ruin.”
“So Frank would steal the company out from under you? Would you allow for that?” John watched Allan the entire time.
“It’s not the company that matters. I only have a fourth interest in it anyway. And there’s no reason I can’t start up my own company and do it bigger and better. Dad was the one who had the ideas for new gear, and between you and me, I’m certain we could continue along those lines.”
John smiled but said nothing. Allan knew he’d presumed upon the older man’s willingness to participate, but at the moment that was the least of his concerns.
“What matters is my father’s good name. I won’t have the likes of Frank Irving running it into the ground the way he has the company.”
“And how will you stop him?”
Allan let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. He’ll be here soon, however, and I need to have a plan in place.”
“I’d like to help if that’s possible.”
“I appreciate that you would help me. I’m afraid I’m at a complete loss as to how to handle this. I’ve known Frank all of my life, but I don’t think I really know him at all. I can’t help but wonder if Dad knew how underhanded and deceptive he was.”
“Well, it’s possible that even Frank is being duped.”
Allan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying? Do you think my brother-in-law is lying? That he’s really responsible for embezzlement?”
“No, not at all. I’m merely suggesting it is possible that someone else in the company could have done it.”
The idea wasn’t without merit. It was possible that someone could be working behind the scenes to frame Louis. Perhaps he had an enemy at the company—one who was envious of his position. Perhaps wanted his job.
“You’re right. There I go jumping to conclusions again. I trust Louis implicitly, so it seemed obvious to find Frank at fault.”
John shifted and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I’m not saying Frank isn’t to blame, but I think you should consider all the possibilities. Frank isn’t stupid. If this is his doing, he will have planned it out and had a whole lot more time to consider all the details. If he’s set this up to blame your brother-in-law, as you suspect, then he’s no doubt created the necessary proof. You’re going to have to find some way to reveal the truth.”
“Well, Frank’s going to be here in a matter of days. That means he won’t be at the office. I could arrange for someone to go through everything. Everyone makes mistakes and Frank is no exception. I’m going to get word to Louis. He was well liked, and he’s bound to have friends in the company who would be happy to help him get the information we need.”
“That’s a good idea. Perhaps that lawyer might arrange for some legal papers that would help. I’m sure there is probably something that a judge could do.”
“You’re right, John.” Allan felt a glimmer of hope. “I appreciate talking to you. It’s helped more than you know.” He unclenched his fist and looked at the wadded-up letter. “I just want to make sure I do all I can to make this right.”
“Well, there is one more thing I would advise.”
Allan looked up and met John’s smile. “What’s that?”
“Pray. We all need to pray on this and ask God to reveal the truth.”
20
Cassidy couldn’t stop thinking about that moment with Allan before Thomas interrupted them and how she thought Allan might kiss her—and how she’d hoped he would. Her thoughts had been a jumble ever since. She knew Allan was gradually working through his issues with God and that he’d asked her father for forgiveness. The two were, in fact, becoming quite close.
The two most important men in her life had become friends. Her father commented just the night before ab
out how he had seen great changes in Allan spiritually and felt certain he was finally on his way to working things out with the Almighty.
That, of course, gave Cassidy great joy. She couldn’t allow herself to fall in love with a man who didn’t love and serve God. Nor would her father ever sanction any such union. No, if she were to marry anyone, he would have to put God first.
Marriage. Where had that thought come from? She didn’t even know for sure that she was in love, although she highly suspected that was the reason for her confusion and sense of elation. Goodness, but was it like this for everyone? It didn’t seem a minute went by without some thought of Allan going through her mind.
“Cassidy Faith, what in the world is wrong with you?” Mrs. Johnson came and forced the measuring cup from Cassidy’s hand. “That’s salt—not sugar.”
“Oh my.” Cassidy looked at the cup and then to Mrs. Johnson. “I’m sorry. I guess my mind was elsewhere.”
“Why don’t you go work on the hollandaise—you’ve never had any trouble with that.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Cassidy quickly moved away to do as Mrs. Johnson requested. Whirling around, however, caused her to collide with several newly washed pots. They went flying off in several directions, crashing to the floor in a loud metallic clatter.
“Cassidy!” Mrs. Johnson shook her head. “Have you been taking lessons from Thomas?”
Two of the young women who helped in the kitchen came running to see what the problem was. They stood in amusement, pointing at the pans and Cassidy, giggling all the while.
“And you two . . .” Mrs. Johnson stalked to where the girls now stood, trying to compose themselves. “You have potatoes to peel and vegetables to cut up. I’m almost certain you couldn’t possibly have completed it in the few minutes you’ve been at work.”
“No, ma’am,” one of the girls replied. The other cast her head down.
“Then get to work! I won’t have you dawdling about my kitchen.”
In the Shadow of Denali Page 19