Threads of Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “See? You are a noble man.”

  Daniel looked at her again and gave a wag of his auburn head. “Either that, or I’m a very foolish one.”

  CHAPTER 13

  T HE CLOCK IN the small station bordering the Lake Michigan shoreline read eight thirty. Julianna remained on the platform until Daniel hailed a porter to assist with their baggage. After overseeing it onto the steamship Shioc, named for a Wisconsin river, Daniel had said, he helped Julianna board.

  “I love the smell of Chicago.” He inhaled deeply as he leaned on the ship’s rail and gazed out over the water. “It’s a city rich with history and yet so new because of all the rebuilding that went on a few years ago.”

  “Rebuilding?” Julianna clutched the rail with both hands.

  “Yes, after what’s now called the Great Chicago Fire. It happened in 1871. I’ve visited Chicago many times with the Ramseys. We’d stay in luxury hotels and visit the theaters and dine at the best restaurants. But they’re all gone. The fire left the sturdiest of brick buildings in piles of rubble and twisted metal. Hundreds of people lost their lives, and tens of thousands of people were left homeless.”

  “How dreadful.” She looked out over Lake Michigan. “And with all this water right here? Couldn’t they figure out how to put out the fire?”

  “The lake saved many people from burning alive, but the wind was blowing eastward and the flames were so intense that they reached out over the water. Sadly many people drowned. Firemen did what they could.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t care to hear that story, Captain.” She lowered her voice. “I mean, Daniel.” But threading her hand around his elbow gave her a measure of security. “It’s worse than Jeremy’s tale about the woman and child, frozen in time under the sea.”

  “Why is it worse?”

  “I suppose because it’s true.”

  “Oh, Julianna, don’t fret. Nothing will happen to us tonight.” Daniel gave her hand an assuring and gentle squeeze. “But before we part for our cabins, let’s sit down and enjoy the mild evening weather. The fresh air feels good after being in those stuffy railroad cars.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  They found two unoccupied chairs and sat. Julianna watched the couples promenading on the deck with moonlight growing brighter in the sky. She got one last glimpse of the lake before a shroud of darkness fell.

  “You know if one gazes over the lake, one could imagine it’s the sea.”

  “I suppose . . . if one didn’t know better.”

  She sent him a sharp glance and he chuckled.

  A crew man walked along, lighting the many lanterns adorning the boat. Suddenly it felt rather romantic to be sitting on deck with the man she adored.

  Daniel turned to her. “This steamship doesn’t cruise too far from shore and avoids the rougher waters, so many people from Chicago enjoy the mild excursion to Milwaukee, Manitowoc, or Green Bay, where they dine or visit friends before sailing home again.”

  “I suppose it’s a memorable affair if one enjoys being out in the middle of a lake in the dark.”

  Daniel laughed under his breath.

  An hour or so later, he walked her to her small but functional cabin. Julianna managed to undress and slip into her berth. By morning they would be docked in Manitowoc, and she’d begin her new life . . . on a farm.

  After a light breakfast the next morning the steamship docked at the depot on the Manitowoc River. Daniel helped Julianna disembark. Directly across the water construction was underway for a sailing vessel. Numerous warehouses lined the wharf, and a tall grain elevator stood proudly at the foot of the bridge. Steamers and schooners were unloaded or loaded as the case may be. Workers shouted to each other while passengers hurried toward their destinations.

  Taking Julianna’s elbow, Daniel led her toward the baggage clerk to collect their things. Then they made their way toward a multi-passenger horsecar. Daniel felt glad he didn’t have to engage in conversation at the moment, although he knew he hadn’t been good company at breakfast. Since he’d awakened, thoughts of Poppa had plagued him. Was he still alive?

  Daniel helped Julianna board the conveyance. Minutes later they set off, crossing the bridge on the south side of town. He’d find the livery down this way. As they turned onto Eighth Street, sudden amazement caused Daniel to blink. Since his last visit his hometown had sprouted more businesses, many quite impressive. Spying the hotel, he called for the driver to halt. Bending close to Julianna’s ear, he said, “You can wait in the hotel lobby while I procure a carriage to take us out to the farm.”

  She replied with a nod.

  When the horsecar stopped, Daniel held Julianna’s gloved hand and helped her alight.

  “Couldn’t I just come with you?”

  Uncertainty settled in her eyes before she gazed down the unpaved street aligned with uneven planked walkways. Daniel realized Manitowoc must seem uncivilized to her compared to London. Still, and in spite of his obligations to her, Daniel had no time to dally. He wanted to get to his parents’ farm post haste.

  Inside the hotel’s lobby the air felt pleasantly cool. The young man at the desk greeted them with a smile and agreed to store their baggage nearby. Daniel found an empty table near the windows.

  “Will this do?” He held a chair for Julianna. She adjusted her skirts and sat.

  “I suppose.” She didn’t look at all pleased.

  He ordered tea for her. “I won’t be gone long, and I’m sure you’re perfectly safe here. All right?”

  Apparently her rolling of one shoulder would be all the acquiescence he’d get.

  “I’ll be back.” Daniel gave her hand a gentle squeeze, telling himself he was doing the right thing by asking her to wait here.

  With purposeful strides he headed for the door. Outside the hotel he squinted into the bright sunshine then walked the distance to the livery stable. Reaching it, he entered the large barn, spotted the office, and strode over to it. Daniel removed his hat and searched for the proprietor.

  “Well, as I live and breathe! Daniel Sundberg . . . is that really you?”

  He narrowed his gaze. The brawny fellow sauntering toward him didn’t look familiar.

  “Josh Schulte.” The man stuck out his meaty right hand. “You and me went to school together, although I’m a couple years older.”

  “A pleasure to see you again.” Daniel honestly couldn’t recall the blond man—or even the boy of the same name. “I’m in need of a carriage or wagonette and a couple of your finest geldings.”

  “Sure thing. Got just the vehicle right here.” He pointed to a covered black buggy with room enough behind the front seat for luggage. “As for horses, you lookin’ to buy?” Schulte tipped his head and grinned.

  “Perhaps.” Daniel wondered over the transaction. Were his folks in need of more horses? “Do you know my family?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Can you tell me how my father is faring?”

  Sympathy spread across Schulte’s square face. “Not so good, I’m afraid. He had some kind of apoplexy that left him . . . well, senseless. 144 It was touch and go for a while there. I know your mother did everything she could to make a go of the farm.”

  Daniel figured that meant nothing got planted this spring.

  Schulte set his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “I’m real sorry to be the one to tell you.”

  He pushed out a polite smile despite the sorrow that pierced him through. “I appreciate it.” He cleared the emotion from his throat. “And if it’s all right with you, I’ll rent the wagon and team for now until I find out the situation with my mother and sisters.”

  “Fine by me.” Schulte stood with his hands on his hips. “But just one of your sisters is left at home. Agnes.” He gazed at the stable’s beamed ceiling. “She must be ’bout ten now.” Looking back at Daniel, he grinned. “Your older sister, Adeline, got married last summer. She and Will Dunbar just had a baby boy. You know, Will’s the foreman at Dunbar Manufacturi
ng.”

  “Where is that located?” Daniel couldn’t recall.

  “West of here, at the least navigable end of the river.”

  “And what do they manufacture?”

  “Anything you can think of that’s made out of timber. Doors, window sashes, beams for ship-makers. It’s quite the enterprise.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Adeline married well. Will’s a hard worker.”

  Daniel could scarcely believe his sister was old enough to marry. Last time he was home, Adeline had been in her teens. “It’s hard to imagine my sister grown up, married, and a mother already.”

  “You been gone too long.” Schulte cocked a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re one of them Norwegian bachelors.”

  Daniel grinned. “For the time being.”

  “You don’t say. Any prospects?”

  Obviously the man wanted more information. But Daniel wasn’t about to share his life’s story with some person he may or may not have known in school. “Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “No, huh?” Schulte chuckled. “Well, there are plenty of single ladies here in town. I’m married, and we got a son.”

  “How nice for you.”

  The man shuffled his feet. “How long will you be staying?”

  “Just a couple of weeks, depending.”

  Schulte seemed to understand. “I wish your father the best. Enjoy your stay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And I hope your pa is feeling better.”

  “Again, thanks.”

  While Schulte went to hitch up the team, Daniel meandered out onto the walk. His gaze wandered east where tall masts bobbed above the rooflines. Plenty of activity on the piers this morning. Numerous steamships, like the Shioc, on which he and Julianna had arrived, made Manitowoc a regular port of call. They took on grain, feed, and flour from the various local mills, as well as coal and lumber.

  Schulte called to him, and minutes later Daniel held the horses’ reins in his palms. He urged the team forward and down the crowded street, past the blacksmith shop, Knapp’s Carpentry, and Edwin Cruthers, Attorney at Law. If he turned east at the next block, he’d still find numerous shipping offices, which took up the entirety of one street. Also there, leading to the waterfront, were taverns and the not-so-well-respected rooms for rent.

  But steady ahead on South Eighth Street, the post office, bank, and sheriff’s office, all built with Cream City brick, shipped from Milwaukee. Although blackened from years of weather, the buildings still looked as structurally sound as Daniel last remembered.

  Next came Grainger’s General Store, and Daniel thought the place had to be run by the next generation of Graingers, the very ones with whom he’d attended school.

  At the corner dressmaker’s shop Daniel slowed. An onslaught of memories collided with him. For as long as Daniel could recall, Mor knitted, crocheted, and sewed accessories for the shop, which had changed ownership several times. Mor once debated over purchasing the business. It had been her childhood dream to one day own a store.

  Then suddenly he saw her—his mother. The color of her hair had gone from blonde to white with age, and her figure was thicker than he recalled from his last visit seven years ago. Other than that, she looked the same save for the purplish-blue slashes below her eyes. Hadn’t she gotten enough sleep last night? Obviously not with Poppa ill.

  Daniel pulled the vehicle to a halt in front of the hotel across the street. Just as he prepared to jump down, a girl handed Mor a broom, and she began sweeping the wood-plank walk in front of the store. And that’s when he noticed the sign above it: Sundbergs’ Creations. So, Mor had finally gotten her store. Poppa had forfeited his dreams in politics for her, and now Mor had gotten her way again—and that’s always how it went, as Daniel recollected.

  He leaned a forearm on his knee and stared. The girl must be his baby sister, Aggie. Why weren’t she and Mor on the farm, working?

  Daniel decided to find out.

  He climbed down from the wagonette and tethered the team to the hitching post.

  “Captain, what took you so long?”

  He turned, hearing Julianna’s breathless question. Her eyes were round, frightened, and pleading. Before he could ask, a blond man with round spectacles exited the hotel right on her heels.

  Julianna stepped nearer to Daniel. “Captain, this is Mr. Mark Dunbar.”

  “Ah . . . ” Daniel figured out what had happened. Already Julianna had garnered unwanted attention.

  But then the man’s last name gave him pause. “Dunbar?”

  “I’m Will’s younger brother.” Mark held out his right hand. “I’m the manager here at the hotel.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dunbar.”

  “It’s Mark. No need for formalities. We’re practically brothers.” He stared at Daniel with a mix of awe before his gaze fell on Julianna and stayed there.

  She pretended not to notice and stared down the block, although the rapid rise and fall of her chest indicated her discomfort. Then he caught Julianna’s eye. “I’ll hire a porter to load our things, and then we’ll head off to the farm.”

  “Beg your pardon, sir. Did you just say the farm—as in the Sundberg farm?”

  “Yes, although . . . ” He cast a glance across the street and saw his mother reenter the shop. “I just saw Mor and Aggie—”

  “That’s because they live and work here in town now. Earlier this year, after your father had his stroke, your mother was forced to sell the farm. She purchased the building across the street and opened her own shop, figuring she’d earn a wage, and the new location is closer to Dr. Harris’s office.”

  “She sold my family’s farm?” The news hit Daniel like a thunderbolt. Why couldn’t she have hired able-bodied men to help with the plowing and planting? Why did she have to sell it? No wonder his father never recovered. He’d been taken from the home that he himself had built—the home he loved. Daniel didn’t think he’d ever forgive his mother for this, yet one more selfish act.

  “Couldn’t be helped,” Mark said.

  Drawing in a slow, deliberate breath, Daniel stuffed his emotions. Offering his arm to Julianna, he said, “Let’s go say hello to my mother, shall we?”

  Julianna had to run to keep up with Daniel’s long strides as they crossed the busy thoroughfare. However, she didn’t complain. The faster she escaped from Mark Dunbar, the better.

  After he’d refilled her cup of tea, she’d seen that certain, interested light in his eyes—same as she’d seen in Jeremy’s eyes. It meant only one thing, and Julianna didn’t share their interest. On the other hand, when the captain looked at her that way, it meant she’d likely get herself thoroughly kissed. That she didn’t mind at all. Unfortunately she’d made a promise. Another kiss between them must never happen again. Daniel was going to marry his countess.

  But it seemed he wouldn’t be leaving for the farm.

  “Mor?”

  The older woman sweeping the walk swung around. Her gaze widened when she saw Daniel, and then she dropped her broom.

  “Daniel!” She folded her hands over her heart.

  “Hello, Mor.” He closed the distance between them and placed a very perfunctory kiss on her cheek.

  The woman threw her arms around his midsection. “You’re home. You’re home.” She seemed delighted, and Julianna wondered if she were really as manipulative as Daniel claimed.

  “I am so happy now that you are home.”

  Julianna heard the accent in the woman’s voice and recalled that Daniel said his family was Norwegian.

  “This is hardly home to me, Mor, in more ways than one.”

  “I will explain everything later.”

  “Fine.”

  Daniel eyed the store. Julianna followed his line of vision and noted the lovely knotted light-blue shawl hanging inside the window.

  “But I’ll say now that I’m disappointed to hear you sold the farm.”

  “Come inside. You can see your pop
pa, and we will talk.”

  “Just a moment.” Daniel turned to Julianna. “Mor, I’d like you to meet Miss Julianna Wayland. I brought her here—”

  “Your forloveden?” A slow and pleased-looking smile spread across Mrs. Sundberg’s tanned face, although Julianna had no idea what she’d said in Norwegian.

  “No, Mor, she is not my fiancée.”

  A wave of embarrassment worked its way from Julianna’s cheeks to her hairline.

  “I hired Julianna to assist you on the farm while Poppa is ill. Now that there is no farm, I’ll have to make other arrangements for her.”

  Other arrangements? Her blush suddenly turned to chagrin as she realized what a burden she’d been on the captain. All the while she ignorantly assumed he enjoyed her company as much as she enjoyed his. But now she truly understood that he’d been merely acting like a gentleman, like the honorable man he was.

  “Oh, not to worry, Captain. I’ll be more than happy to work here in a shop full of pretty ladies’ things.”

  “But I do not need any help here.” A little frown puckered Mrs. Sundberg’s brow, and Julianna felt a stab of panic. “School is out for the summer, so Agnes is working at the store and assisting me with Poppa’s care. Besides . . . ” Her weary blue eyes met Julianna’s gaze. “I cannot afford to pay you, Miss Wayland.”

  Julianna felt the blood in her face begin to drain, and the word unwanted permeated her being. Daniel had planned to leave her off on his parents at their farm. But now there was no farm, and Daniel’s mother didn’t need Julianna’s help.

  Pivoting, she scanned the unfamiliar scenery. How very far away from London and New York she felt. At least in New York there were similarities to London, paved streets, art galleries and museums, churches made of red brick with steeples so high they brushed the sky. Here, nothing save for the hotel was even two stories tall.

  “If it’s a job you’re looking for, Miss Wayland . . . ”

  She turned again to find Mark Dunbar’s eager expression. He must have followed them across the street.