Lilacs for Juliana (The Christy Lumber Camp Series Book 3)

by Carrie Fancett Pagels

  Isabelle skipped through the tower entrance, toward them. “Let me help push.”

  Yost made a show of stepping aside to allow his daughter to place her hands on the handles and walk before him—with him actually doing the heavy work. Juliana grinned. The man had turned out to be quite a surprise to her. Although she didn’t agree with his methods, and she was concerned about his attention toward Gracie, she was thankful James Yost had not pressed Juliana into revealing more about her relationship with Alek. And she could tell he was curious about her relationship with his former personal secretary. She’d shared that she and Aleksanteri had been “close friends”, which had been true, and that she positively did not wish to see him.

  With Sister Mary Lou’s emergency surgery for appendicitis over, and her recovering to continue at the Yost mansion, no doubt James expected for them to accept visitors. How could that be a good idea?

  Chapter 14

  Juliana returned to ordering the books and creating labels to affix to the spines. The Ingraham chiming gingerbread clock announced the hour as James returned.

  He drew near and reached for a copy of Little Men. “I’d like to have Mr. Puumala over. You’d like the man Alek has become.”

  “I’d hope so.” Not that she cared to see him.

  Beaming, her temporary employer tapped a crate of books. “All Horatio Alger volumes.”

  “I’m not surprised.” She grinned up at him. “He’s your favorite.”

  “Indeed, and Alek is a bootstrap boy, like Alger’s heroes.”

  A hero who’d abandoned his fiancée. Juliana gritted her teeth.

  “He’s a rising star at Yost Brewery and was the best personal assistant I’ve ever had.” He chuckled and rubbed his chin. “But you’d not believe where I met him.”

  “Oh?” She really didn’t care to discuss her old fiancé. Apparently now that the crisis with Sister Mary Lou was over, so was Juliana’s ban on visitors.

  He fixed his gaze on her. “Alek was a miner in the western end of the Upper Peninsula. Then one day, he’d come to Milwaukee with der Kompagnon—a companion. And he’d seen an ad and decided he’d apply for my job as personal assistant.” He laughed.

  The muscles in her neck tightened. “Did he have any experience?”

  The sunlight puddling on the carpet dimmed. Outside, visible through the large windows, clouds loomed over the lake.

  “Himmel, nein.”

  This German phrase flummoxed her. She squeezed her eyebrows together in concentration.

  He set the children’s book down. “Sorry. Now that I am home, I’m more likely to slip into the tongue I was raised with, as you’ve discovered. And I don’t always explain what I mean.”

  “You usually do, though.” She’d noticed, but hadn’t pointed it out. And he generally explained himself unless the German words were very similar to English. Maybe that was part of his stiffness in demeanor in St. Ignace—perhaps he was expending a great deal of energy ensuring he spoke only in English. When she’d gone walking, she’d heard many people speaking in German. But in her hometown it was rarely used. And some men of commerce looked down on people who didn’t speak only in English.

  “I was saying, heavens no, Alek had no experience as an executive assistant.”

  “But he had plenty of nerve, didn’t he?” She’d forgiven him. Hadn’t she?

  “He had nerve aplenty and so he showed up, dressed in his working man clothes, not in a suit much less in something pressed.” He tapped a book. “It was almost like having a character from one of Alger’s appear from out of a book.” Like Richard coming to the library and her imagining Paul Bon Jean, of the legendary stories, coming to life.

  She nodded and peeked inside the next crate, which held more children’s books. “Isabelle will love all these books by Miss Alcott.”

  “Louisa May Alcott is definitely her favorite.” He removed a handful of Alger books from his crate. “Yes, Alek is a rare find—a man who rose to the occasion and he’s performed admirably. I can’t wait for you to see him. He seems rather agitated as to why he’s not already been invited—even though I explained about Sister Mary Lou’s surgery.”

  Agitated? Why should he wish to see her? Mortification began, as she imagined him wanting to see her in order to explain himself and to excuse his behavior. “Sounds to me as though Aleksanteri hasn’t yet learned about social expectations.”

  “Perhaps.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “But are you ready for company?”

  She’d never be ready to see Alek, but she bit her lip. She couldn’t wait to get back home. This whole trip seemed a travesty—James knew enough about library order to have simply hired someone local and instructed them in what to do. With his constant attentive and gallant behavior toward Gracie, it seemed James was more interested in having her assistant there rather than having a true need of Juliana’s skills. With Sister Mary Lou recuperating, she needed to return home. “Now certainly isn’t the time for guests. Perhaps before I leave for St. Ignace.” As in, right before she boarded the boat and could hastily wave goodbye to Aleksanteri, hopefully forever.

  James straightened and then slacked his hip. “You know, I had to talk him out of running back home, after he’d first arrived in Milwaukee.”

  “Why?” A muscle near her eye twitched. He’d wanted to return?

  “Seems he’d promised a young woman that he’d marry her, and he’d set off for the mines to prove himself and make a living. Since you two were friends, you probably know all that.” Thankfully he didn’t look up from examining the books and sorting them or he’d see steam coming from her ears.

  Juliana gritted her teeth together.

  Yost continued to stack the books into piles. “But Alek didn’t do well in the mines, and felt he couldn’t support a wife.”

  After grabbing the pry bar, Juliana forced open another wooden crate of books, thankful for the relief it provided her tense muscles. She sensed James’ gaze on her back.

  “But after taking my position, Alek wanted to go back and see if his young lady was willing.”

  Was he trying to goad her? Didn’t sound like it. The man sounded positively innocent in his comments.

  “After all those years?” she croaked. “He sure did have some nerve, didn’t he?” She swiveled slightly toward him, forcing her facial expression into a placid mask.

  He cast her a quick glance but resumed unpacking the books. “Well, I told him for one thing she’d probably gotten married, but he said no, she hadn’t.”

  No, she had not. Juliana’s sound of agreement emerged like a stifled snort.

  “And for another thing, I explained to him that if he was going to be a real self-made man—an Alger man—he needed to aim higher in his ambitions.” He gestured to the grand room in which they worked. “Get himself a home after he works his way up at Yost Breweries. He’s not yet thirty, he has time.”

  Not much, as he’d be thirty shortly. Had he lied to his employer about his age, like he’d deceived Juliana?

  So Yost had talked her former fiancé out of coming back for her and then convinced him he needed to earn enough to support a wife in style? “Seems to me that if they were really in love, she’d not want to wait—she’d take him as he was.” Even if that meant living in a lumber camp. Even with no lilacs. Oh Richard, why haven’t I heard from you? Was he, too, waiting until he could get out of the lumbering business and build a fine house in town?

  “That had occurred to me, but in truth, since Alek didn’t much resist my suggestion that he find himself a wife here in Milwaukee, instead, and later, well…”

  Unbidden tears leapt to her eyes. Not that she yet loved Alek, but that this man could be so interfering in the lives of others. He had behaved like the puppet master they’d sometimes had perform at the library. But Aleksanteri had chosen to play the willing marionette. She needed to get home, wanted to return, to see mother and discover what God had planned for her next.

  She knew one thing for c
ertain—Richard Christy would never be anyone’s marionette. But what about her? Had she allowed herself to continue in unforgiveness, her feelings tugged by lines connecting her to Alek?

  “James, that’s fine—with Alek coming to dinner.” And as soon as the words came out of her mouth, it really did seem fine.

  “Good. I’ll send for him.”

  “For tonight?”

  “He’s been hounding me, Juliana, ever since you arrived.” He laughed. “I’ll be glad to get him focused back on his work.”

  She brushed at her dusty skirt. “I believe I’ll need to change.”

  James gestured toward the archway exit. “Take all the time you need. And I’ll send Maisy up to help you and Gracie.”

  Not only did Maisy arrive at her room but so did Alice, one of the servants hired especially to care for the three newcomers to the household. After an hour of bathing, hair styling, and applying cosmetics, lotion and perfume, Juliana donned her undergarments only to have Maisy pull her corset so tight that she could barely breathe. “Let it out, please.”

  “But, miss, you have a perfect bell shaped figure with it as it is,” the servant protested.

  “I don’t care. I won’t be able to speak unless you release the tension.”

  The two complied, and then helped her into her slip, bustle, and then the dinner gown of sapphire blue that Gracie claimed matched her eyes exactly.

  “Lovely, isn’t she, Alice?”

  “Indeed.” The other servant adjusted the lace around the low cut neckline and gently turned her toward the baroque mirror.

  The reflection could have been another person entirely. A rosy-cheek, young-looking woman, with upswept dark curls trailing down her neck peered back at her. She pressed her hand to her rouged lips.

  “Bears a striking resemblance to my former mistress. And Mrs. Yost was said to be one of the greatest beauties in Milwaukee.” Maisy sighed.

  Was that why James had brought her there? Isabelle had shown no reaction to Juliana’s appearance. But then again, Mrs. Yost likely dressed in this fine manner every day. “Will Isabelle be upset, seeing me like this? If, as you say, I resemble her mother?”

  The two servants exchanged a knowing glance. “She won’t be at dinner. Neither will Miss Gracie. They’re taking dinner upstairs with Sister Mary Lou. Etta and Lela will be helping.”

  “Oh.” So it would be only her, James, and Aleksanteri. Better to get this over.

  She put on the ear bobs that James had given her, hoping they weren’t real gemstones, although they appeared to be. Of course, she’d leave them behind when she returned home.

  After they assisted her in donning the matching necklace, the servants arranged Juliana’s gown for her and showed her how to loop the train material up so that she wouldn’t trip on the stairs. “Better that way, miss, than us carrying it behind you as we might all trip coming down those stairs.”

  Halfway down the curve in the staircase, Rawley responded to a knock at the front door. She hesitated. Removing his hat, a tall blond-haired man entered. The servant took the derby hat and hung it from a nearby brass hook. She resumed her descent, stopping only when Alek took three strides into the room and stared up at her.

  “Juli?” His hoarse rasp stirred her. Still as handsome as ever, even more so, his broad shoulders filled out a light gray suit jacket. Gray plaid wool cuffed pants terminated over black shoes buffed to a high gloss. His crisp white shirt was accented by a red bow tie, above which his Adam’s apple seemed to bob.

  Averting her gaze, heart hammering, Juliana descended the rest of the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she held out her gloved hands to him. “How are you Alek?”

  This close, she could see the fine lines etched around eyes that had always fascinated her. Tonight, though, she thought she read sadness somehow combined with relief that tugged at his lips. “So, you are well?”

  “I am blessed.” She truly was. Finally, seeing her old beau face-to-face, she could give up her anger and disappointment.

  Alek glanced to the left, where Rawley had discreetly exited to the dining room, and then to the right, where the kitchen and servants were busily preparing their meal behind closed doors. “Juli, I am so sorry. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”

  He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers, the warmth not passing through the lacy material. Once upon a time, to hear these words would have thrilled her to her marrow. She’d have been giddy with renewed love. “I forgive you, Alek. I have a full life and no regrets.”

  Every word was true. A boulder of limestone lifted from her shoulders.

  Footfalls hammered down the steps, as James joined them. “Ah, I’m glad you two had a moment alone to chat.”

  “So am I.” Gratitude filled her with warmth. The past firmly behind her, she could enjoy whatever it was God had prepared for her.

  Alek pressed his lips together.

  “Let’s go on to the dining room.” James slipped his arm through hers, although not in a proprietary way. “You two have a lot to catch up on, and I’m going to enjoy hearing your stories.”

  She turned and caught Alek’s rueful smile.

  After they’d been seated at the long mahogany table, servants poured wine for the men. Then course after superb course was delivered to the table.

  Between watercress salad and tomato bisque, Juliana learned that Alek had been very ill in the mines, right near the time her brother had succumbed to illness there.

  “I was so very happy when Mr. Yost gave me a job as his assistant.” Alek dabbed at his mouth. “I think he may have saved my life.”

  James raised his palm. “Tut, tut, I did no such thing. But I did find my best assistant ever.”

  “Thank you.” Alek’s cheeks flamed red.

  “And Juliana, you are the best librarian I’ve ever met.”

  “Do you enjoy the work?” Strain tinged Alek’s words, and possibly regret.

  The desire to burst out with “what choice did I have after you left?” was squelched immediately. “As you know, it wasn’t what I’d planned to do with my life.”

  A carved pork roast was delivered on a creamy bone china platter, and one of the servants began clearing the soup bowls while the other placed multiple slivers of meat on their plates. Meanwhile, two more vegetables dishes were brought in and set on the sideboard. All the serving activity hushed their conversation.

  James immediately began cutting his pork into edible portions. “What did you wish to do?”

  She and Alek locked gazes but he spoke first. “Can you believe this lovely lady…”

  Juliana had to cut him off. “…once wished to be a cook in a lumber camp.”

  Averting his gaze, Alek chopped his meat into tiny pieces.

  Her host stared at her. “What a shame that would have been.”

  “I thought so.” A muscle in Alek’s jaw jumped.

  “Such a waste of a gifted mind.” James reached for the butter dish, before the servant could get it for him. “Not that such work isn’t useful or necessary.”

  “Juliana would have wasted away in a lumber camp.”

  She gritted her teeth. Just like Aleksanteri to always be deciding what he thought was right for her. A trait that at the time she saw as indicating a strong mind. Maybe he had something in common with Mr. Hatchens. “I’m certain you are wrong, Alek.”

  “Oh?” He speared a piece of asparagus, covered in hollandaise sauce, and shoved it in his mouth.

  “My choice of living in a lumber camp had more to do with the people who lived there.” Like him and his parents. But obviously, that was not the right place for her former fiancé.

  The beer baron raised his goblet and the servant refilled it with wine. “Ah, like now, I believe. When a certain handsome lumberjack is luring you away from the library.”

  After Aleksanteri’s crystal glass was also refilled, he cleared his throat. “So you’ll end up living in a lumber camp after all?”

  “I
f I have my way.” She sipped her chilled water. Wouldn’t the well water at Richard’s camp taste divine after drinking city water? Juliana could already picture herself there.

  But was her desire in alignment with Richard’s? Or had his rejection of lilacs in his camp been his refusal of her?

  Chapter 15

  One week later

  “Where is she?” The man in the stiff monkey suit wouldn’t allow him past, so Richard lifted the butler up and moved him aside before striding into the huge foyer, floored with black and white slippery-looking marble. “Juliana!”

  Yost stepped from a nearby room, a newspaper in his hands. “What are you bellowing about, Mr. Christy?” The beer baron looked toward the staircase, and in a flash, Richard mounted the curving steps, two at a time.

  “Juliana!” He hollered at the top of his lungs, heart hammering. “Where are you?”

  When he reached the top, he glanced left and then right, but didn’t see her. Nearby movement drew his attention to a nook, straight ahead of him. A lady rose to her tiny height from a bench, a book in her hand. A young dark-haired woman emerged, her hair swooped up atop her head. There was his Juliana, dressed in a lilac-colored, fancy gown.

  “Richard?” Juliana’s book clattered to the floor.

  Without hesitation, he swooped in, lifted her, and clutched her to his chest, then kissed her petal-soft cheeks. “Juliana, you’re all right. Thank God.”

  “Of course I am.” Tears filled her blue eyes.

  “I’m not hurtin’ you, am I?” He set her down.

  She gazed up at him with longing in her eyes, mirroring what he felt in his heart. “What are you doing here?”

  “Did you get my letter?”

  She blushed. “Yes, I did. I’d despaired I’d never hear from you.”

  “And?” He drew her a little closer and bent his head closer, enjoying her light perfume.

  A grin tugged at her mouth. “And I may have an answer for you.”

  He covered her soft lips with his, lost in the sensation of finally claiming her as his own. Juliana grasped his shoulders. All the pent-up fervor he’d stifled now threatened to bust loose. He pulled away.