Threads of Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

  Daniel closed his eyes briefly, guessing the rest of the story.

  “Somehow Julianna got spooked and ran. I was detained only moments by one of the men asking if I knew of vacancies at the hotel. After I replied, I immediately took off after her.” Mark shook his head. “But she vanished.”

  At his quizzical stare Daniel felt compelled to explain at least in part. “I’m afraid Julianna has had several poor experiences with mariners.”

  “That would explain why she bolted.”

  “Well, she couldn’t have gone far.” Will’s voice sounded thick with concern.

  “I checked up and down streets and alleys.” At last Mark seemed to catch his breath. “I even stopped in front of your mother’s store.” His gaze met Daniel’s again. “But the lamps had been extinguished, and I didn’t see any movement when I peered through the front windows, so I didn’t dare to knock.”

  Knock. The word caused Daniel to remember. He patted the front of his waistcoat for the key to his family’s apartment. Mor had handed it to him before he left. “In other words, you never went down the walk to the side door?”

  “Didn’t see any reason to, no.”

  “I think I know where Julianna is.” He removed the key from his pocket and held it for the men to see. “I have a hunch she’s waiting near the door, hoping I’ll remember that I have the key.”

  Will chuckled and Jed grinned.

  A look of relief fell over Mark’s features.

  “Like you, she probably won’t knock for fear of disturbing anyone. So, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen . . . ”

  “Of course.” Jed shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll talk again soon.”

  “I’d enjoy it.” Daniel quickly made his way through the foyer, where he collected his jacket and hat.

  “Send word when you find her,” Jed called.

  Daniel replied with a single nod as he left the house. When the heel of his boots struck the stone walkway, he hurried his pace. Please, God, let her be safe. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d prayed, but more than ever it seemed appropriate now.

  He gave into a jog as his mind and heart battled between common sense and all-out panic.

  Reaching Mor’s shop, Daniel slowed so as not to scare Julianna a second time. He turned onto the walk and whispered her name. Once. Twice.

  At last she stepped from the shadows. Other than a troubled expression, she looked no worse for wear.

  Daniel closed the distance between them and gathered her into his arms. He held her slight frame close and his tension abated. “I was worried about you, little one.”

  “I was a bit worried meself.”

  He grinned. “Well, you’re safe now.” He rested his cheek against the top of her head and couldn’t help enjoying the way she clung to him.

  “Is Mark all right?”

  “He’s fine. No fight ensued tonight.”

  “Thank God!”

  Daniel held her closer.

  “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She pulled back slightly. “The job at the hotel. I doubt I’ll get it now. I behaved like a frightened rabbit.” She laid her head against his chest again. “I couldn’t help it.”

  “Shh . . . ” Daniel pressed a kiss on her forehead. “If you recall, I was never in favor of your taking a job at the hotel in the first place.”

  “But . . . ” Julianna glanced up at him. Beneath the sharp constellations twinkling above, he glimpsed the questions pooling in her gaze.

  However, they dissipated and another emotion took their place— one that told Daniel she’d welcome his advances.

  He cupped her head in his hands and touched his lips to her petal-soft cheek. She turned toward him, and desire overruled his common sense. He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss and suddenly wanted so much more.

  Julianna wiggled and pressed her hands against his chest, her lips breaking the connection with his. “Daniel, I . . . ” She sounded breathless.

  He kissed the lobe of her ear and searched for that sweet spot on her neck.

  “Stop,” she whispered. “We must stop. We made an agreement . . . ”

  She’s right. Daniel straightened his spine. Guilt gnawed at him—a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to. “I’m sorry, Julianna. I shouldn’t have taken such liberties.”

  For a long moment she said nothing as she gazed up at him. Daniel knew he must, but he didn’t want to let her go.

  “I prayed that you’d remember you had the key to the door,” she murmured at last.

  Daniel noted she’d completely changed the subject.

  “That’s my second answered prayer of the day.” Her note of incredulousness hung between them. “God must really be willing to hear me.”

  Her mention of religion dispelled any remaining passion. He quickly released her. “How nice for you.” He couldn’t keep the dryness from his tone. “But I think you’ve been listening to Mor’s preaching.”

  “I’d rather call it teaching, although I will admit to listening to her read from the Bible this morning.”

  “Hmm . . . ” Daniel fetched the key from his pocket.

  “But what do you care if I listen to preaching or not?”

  Her words rooted him in place. Hadn’t she felt that certain spark between them just now? “I care, Julianna.” He almost hated to admit it. “I care about you more than I want to and, definitely, more than I should.”

  “You do?”

  He heard the hopefulness in her tone, and it touched the deepest part of him. “Yes, I do.” If George even got wind of the fact he’d fallen in love with Julianna, his daughter—

  Daniel halted his thoughts. Love?

  “But you’re still going to marry your countess, aren’t you?”

  His heart twisted painfully. “Yes, I am.”

  “I understand. It’s business.”

  “I don’t think you really do, Julianna, and don’t attempt to lecture me on matters of the heart versus arranged marriages. It’s far better to be rich than to be happy.”

  “How could I lecture you? I don’t know about either wealth or happiness.” Julianna stepped back. She lowered her gaze, and he hated himself for hurting her.

  “I suspect you’ve had a taste of both. I’m sure you’ll figure out the truth in time.”

  “I’ll try.” Her tone sounded more upbeat. “And I’ll try to get another job.”

  “There’s no need, Julianna. I’ve told you that before.” Daniel couldn’t seem to keep the edge out of his tone.

  She said nothing but continued to stare at the walk.

  Daniel softened. “Listen to me.” He cupped her face once more and forced her to look at him. “I’ve got it planned that you’ll work for Mor here at the shop for a year. I’m paying your wages—and don’t argue.”

  He watched her clamp her mouth shut.

  “You said yourself that Mor needs help. So I want to help my mother—by hiring you to assist in her store so she can take care of my father. Then, after a year, you’ll be familiar with Manitowoc and its residents, and you’ll be more than able to decide for yourself where you want to work.”

  Neither remark nor retort was forthcoming.

  “Are you agreeable to that arrangement?”

  Between his palms she managed to nod.

  “All right, then. We have ourselves an agreement.”

  “Not that we’ve been able to stick to all our other ones.”

  Daniel chuckled softly and dropped his hands. “You don’t make it easy on a man. You know that, right?”

  “I can’t help the way I feel . . . Captain.”

  He wagged his head as he headed to the door. Sassy little thing.

  Turning the lock, he pushed open the door and allowed her to enter the apartment ahead of him. In the small sitting room he struck a match and lit a nearby table lamp.

  “How did you manage to outrun Mark Dunbar tonight?”

  Julian
na removed her shawl. “Practice, although . . . I lost my pretty hat somewhere.”

  Daniel lifted his shoulders. “A hat is replaceable. Your life is not.”

  “I’m sorry I ran off like that. It’s just . . . ” She stepped closer to him. “I didn’t think Mark stood a chance if those sailors felt like a brawl. You’re the only man I’ve ever trusted to protect me. But you weren’t there.” She swallowed hard. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to you not being there in the future. Won’t I?”

  Any reply lodged in his throat. He couldn’t speak, except he knew he should affirm her question. His future had been mapped out, his choice for a wife selected with the utmost of care. And yet Daniel couldn’t bear the thought of not being close at hand, should Julianna need him. He’d come to treasure the trust she had in him. He enjoyed their bantering. He loved—yes, loved— the way she felt in his arms. He yearned to kiss her over and over again.

  A sadness filled her gaze, and his heart crimped painfully.

  “Good night, Captain Sundberg.” With that, Julianna strode purposefully out of the room.

  The next morning sunshine spilled onto the boardwalk and bounced off store windows as Julianna strolled to church alongside Mrs. Sundberg and Agnes. At first she had a mind to stay back and care for Mr. Sundberg. But then Agnes begged her to come. She’d described the service, and it sounded much less formal than the service Mr. Tolbert required her to attend. Curiosity got the better of her.

  Two blocks down South Eight Street, and they rounded the corner. Agnes pointed straight ahead.

  “That’s our church. It’s called Our Redeemer.”

  Julianna glimpsed the tall red-brick building, looming in the near distance. “It’s very quaint.”

  “One of the largest churches in Manitowoc,” the girl added.

  “It’s a lovely structure.” Turning from it to Agnes, she couldn’t help a bit of teasing. “St. Paul’s in London has a spire that reaches so high the angels have to take care, lest they injure themselves.”

  “That’s not true.” Agnes dipped her brow. “Is it?”

  Mrs. Sundberg’s soft laugh made Julianna grin.

  “Oh, you!” Agnes rapped Julianna lightly on the arm.

  The bell clanged and Mrs. Sundberg quickened her pace. “We had best hurry so we are not late.”

  Julianna walked faster, and Agnes kept up. Daniel had offered to stay back with his father. Mrs. Sundberg’s protests were in vain, but then her gaze had misted over when she admitted that it had been months since she’d attended church services. God forbid that she keep one of her children or any of her friends from hearing God’s Word, so she’d refused help. But today Daniel had insisted she go, adding that he didn’t mind keeping his father company. Julianna thought it was terribly kind of him to consider his mother’s spiritual well-being over his own.

  Daniel. Thoughts of him caused her emotional bruise to ache even worse. But any pain she felt was her own doing. He’d warned her. She hadn’t listened.

  They traipsed up some stairs and entered the church’s vestibule. Mrs. Sundberg and Agnes nodded polite greetings.

  “There will be time for introductions and conversations after service,” Mrs. Sundberg promised.

  Julianna nodded, quelling another round of nerves. Since her arrival in Manitowoc two days ago, she’d met people rather sporadically, whether on the street or in Mrs. Sundberg’s store. This morning, however, she’d meet many of the Sundbergs’ friends and neighbors all at once—and Daniel wasn’t here to help her.

  But it was like she said last night: she needed to get used to his absence. He’d said all along that he wouldn’t stay. He’d offered her a new and better way of life. He would do the right thing financially by his biological family. Then, he’d be leaving, never giving her—or them—another thought.

  While her heart ached like never before, Julianna felt more sorry for the Sundbergs than she did for herself. They weren’t fully aware of Daniel’s plan to walk out of their lives for a third and final time.

  Mrs. Sundberg led the way to the fourth pew from the front. Stepping aside, she allowed Agnes and Julianna to slide in before she tucked her dark blue skirt around her legs and stepped in after them.

  Glancing around, Julianna felt just as prim and proper in her new raspberry-colored dress with its white lacy trim as anyone else here. She straightened the matching hat on her head. What would Flora say if she could see Julianna now? Why, she wouldn’t even recognize her younger sister.

  Mark Dunbar scooted into the pew just ahead of them, startling Julianna from her muse. He nodded a greeting to Mrs. Sundberg and Agnes before bestowing a remorseful grin on Julianna.

  “Please accept my apologies for last night’s, um, misunderstanding,” he whispered.

  Julianna flicked glances at the Sundbergs, and her cheeks grew warm. “We can talk later.”

  Mark wagged his head. “Not necessary, Miss Wayland. I needn’t take up any more of your time.” He looked around. No one else was within earshot. “You see, I left my folks’ house shortly after the captain did. I wanted to make certain you were safe. I knew I wouldn’t rest until I did. I arrived at Mrs. Sundberg’s store shortly after the captain did, and I saw you . . . ”

  Julianna gasped, and thankfully, Mark’s hushed voice trailed off. So he’d seen Daniel take her into his arms. He’d seen how she’d lingered there. Julianna stared into her lap and folded her gloved hands. She couldn’t say she felt a single shred of remorse.

  “Well,” Mark continued to whisper, “all that matters is you’re unharmed.”

  Agnes leaned over. “What happened, Julianna?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later.” She looked at Mark. “Unless Mr. Dunbar would prefer to relay the incident. Perhaps he’ll announce it for all the congregation to hear.”

  “I’d never do that.” His voice grew louder, although it resembled a low growl.

  “You practically just did!”

  Mrs. Sundberg placed her hand on Julianna’s arm. The heightened inflection in her tone had caused several pairs of eyes to look their way. Instantly Julianna regretted defending herself in public. She should have kept her mouth shut. Daniel would be so disappointed in her—except this was all his fault.

  However, in that moment, Julianna realized that as fine as her dress and hat were, they didn’t make her a fine lady. She’d never fit in here, among people who were socially superior to her. Why did she ever think such a thing was possible?

  CHAPTER 19

  W ITH LITTLE EFFORT Daniel got his father dressed, into the wheelchair, and outside for some fresh morning air. Once he was satisfied with his father’s comfort, he situated himself on the stoop outside the door, hoping the specialist would be able to cast a bit of insight into Poppa’s pitiful state.

  His gaze fell over the man who had taught him many things in life. He recalled as a boy holding Poppa’s hand while they walked to the barn to do the evening milking. But now his hands were limp. His head, despite being propped with pillows, sagged to one side. Daniel looked away. It was the worst thing that could happen to a man, dwelling in that useless abyss between life and death. Worse still was that it appeared Poppa didn’t want Daniel’s help. Instead Poppa behaved as if he would prefer to . . . die.

  Daniel trained his focus on the street. Businesses were closed, and not a soul was in sight. He wondered how Julianna fared. She’d looked positively lovely this morning before she left for church with Mor and Agnes. Maybe they’d meet up with the Dunbars, and Mark could try again with Julianna—

  Except every corded muscle in Daniel’s body wanted the man to be unsuccessful. Yet Daniel had no right to think of Julianna as anything more than a recipient of his sponsorship to a new life here in America.

  When had he become such a hypocrite?

  “A’venshur?”

  Daniel glanced back at Poppa. Most of his golden blond hair had turned white with age, and his hairline had receded over the years. But his eyes were still bl
ue. “What did you say, Poppa?” He poised, listening. In the last two days Daniel noticed his father’s words were sometimes a mix of Norwegian and American. The Norwegian, it seemed, was easier for him to pronounce, given his condition.

  “Dream? A’venshur?”

  Daniel understood and smiled. “No, I wasn’t dreaming of adventure.”

  “’oman? Countess?”

  Daniel sent a gaze skyward. “I see gossip has preceded my announcement.” He tipped his head. “Who told you?”

  “A’nes.”

  And Julianna must have told Agnes. Irritation bubbled out of Daniel in the form of a sigh. “It’s not official yet.”

  “Miss ’ay’and? You?”

  “Miss Wayland?” Daniel was growing impatient with all the explanations of their relationship. “She happened to board my ship quite by accident. But instead of prosecuting her as a stowaway—”

  “No, no . . . ”

  Daniel regarded his father askance once more.

  “You. She ’oves you.” He struggled to say each word, and his voice was a hoarse whisper.

  But Daniel understood. “She loves me?” He lifted a stone off the ground and turned it in his palm, feeling its coarse texture. “Where did you hear that nonsense?”

  “’rom Miss ’ay’and.”

  He laughed to cover his discomfort. “Julianna told you that?”

  “Hun liker å snakke.”

  “Yes, I know she likes to talk.” Daniel looked from the stone in his hand to his father. Was that a spark of amusement in his gaze? “I’m afraid she’s quite delusional.”

  The remark came out harsher than intended. “Poppa, the fact is, I’m the first man who has ever shown Julianna any kindness and respect. She fancies herself in love with me.”

  “Are you in love with her?” The question came out loud and clear.

  “Of course not.” What a lie! He ignored the prick of conscience and rushed on. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. I didn’t leave England ahead of schedule because of me. I came because of you.”

  “You shudda not come.” The blue of Poppa’s eyes dulled.

  “You said that same thing days ago too. Why? Mor sent me a telegram, asking me to come.” Aggravation overrode his deep sense of hurt. Couldn’t Poppa appreciate the wheelchair and everything he’d done for their family in the last couple of days? He planned to do more. The specialist was due in town tomorrow.