Threads of Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “She’s become a valuable assistant to me.” Mrs. Sundberg looped her arm around Julianna’s.

  At the compliment Julianna’s confidence grew.

  “Welcome to my home, Miss Wayland.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mary’s dark eyes matched her deep brown dress, and her gaze flowed to Daniel, although she didn’t move to greet him.

  He inclined his head. “Hello, Aunt Mary.” His tone sounded stiff and formal.

  The thick summer air suddenly crackled with unmasked tension. Julianna looked from Daniel to his aunt. Her mouth was set in a firm line, the only indication her feelings weren’t amicable toward him.

  An instant later Mary spun on her heel and waved everyone inside. “Please come. You’ve journeyed a long ways, and I prepared some refreshments. Reverend Wollums is waiting for us.”

  Daniel hung back. “I’ll bring in the luggage.”

  Julianna turned to him and found his expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”

  “No, go on ahead,” he urged. “Stay with the ladies. Mor needs you.”

  “What about you?”

  He began unbuckling the many valises, secured behind the buggy. “I just want to get this over with and get back to New York— and back to my real life.”

  Another reminder that he’d leave soon. Julianna’s heart grew heavy.

  “My father was right.” Daniel met her gaze, and she detected a sharp glint in the depths of his blue eyes. “I should never have come in the first place.”

  Julianna sat in the shade of a beautiful willow with baby Jacob in her arms. A short distance away the Sundbergs, Dunbars, and a host of friends gathered within the confines of the cemetery’s white-picketed fence. Daniel stood off to one side, his stance resembling that of a sea captain overlooking his crew. Julianna sighed. If only he’d see that his family wanted his love and attention, not his money, although he had completely lifted his mother’s financial burden. But it wasn’t enough for them, and Julianna understood why. They envied the loyalty that Daniel felt toward the Ramseys.

  In truth, Julianna did too.

  She turned her attention to the darkly clad minister. “For those of us who abide with Christ, this isn’t a good-bye to Sam Sundberg. It’s a mere farewell. Death cannot hold believers in its icy grip.” Reverend Wollums looked to the sky. “Some day we’ll see Sam, not in the rays of the sunshine under which he lived and worked in this life, but in the glow of Christ’s glory.” His gaze returned to the mourners. “So let not your heart be troubled, and don’t be afraid. The Lord Jesus knows of your sorrow.” He stared at Mrs. Sundberg for a long moment before his gaze roamed over the others. “Let us pray . . . ”

  Heads bowed, and Julianna saw that Daniel had respectfully lowered his.

  “May the Comforter, whom the Lord Jesus sent, give us all peace in this, our hour of sorrow. Amen.”

  Everyone took fists of dirt and, one by one, tossed it into Mr. Sundberg’s grave. Then they filed out of the cemetery, many heading for the house.

  Adeline came over and sat by Julianna. She peered at her son, saw that he slept soundly, and smiled.

  “Well,” she said with a sigh, looking toward the freshly dug grave, “Poppa isn’t suffering anymore.”

  Julianna wondered. Questions burned deep within her. “How do you know?” The question sailed out before she could think better of it. “How does Reverend Wollums know? For that matter, how can anyone really know what happens in the hereafter?”

  Adeline didn’t seem put off in the least. “The Bible tells us exactly what happens.”

  “The Bible.” Julianna nodded. “I started reading it on the ship. Unfortunately I didn’t get very far.”

  “Keep reading.” Adeline’s lips curved upward. “You’ll find the part where God’s Word says that it’s appointed unto man once to die and after that the judgment.” She looked toward her father’s grave. A few mourners lingered, Daniel being one of them. “Some will meet Christ as their Savior, and others, who refused to believe, will meet Him as their judge—and the judgment will be eternal separation from God in a place called hell.”

  Julianna thought she may have lived in hell for a while.

  “The Bible says there will be weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.”

  Now she was certain of it. Julianna grimaced. She hoped never to return to that dark, horrible place again! “So what do I do if I don’t want to go to hell?”

  “Only believe.”

  “In what?”

  Adeline smoothed her dark brown skirt over her legs, and then smiled into Julianna’s eyes. “Believe that God so loved the world— and that includes you—that He gave His only begotten Son, so that whosoever believes in Him—again, Julianna, you’re part of whosoever—should not perish but have everlasting life.”

  “I’m not sure I’d be included. I haven’t lived a very nice life.”

  “Well, Mary Magdalene certainly didn’t live a nice life.” Adeline leaned closer. “She was a woman of ill repute back in Jesus’ time. Nevertheless, He favored her and considered her His friend. And the woman at the well—she had been living with many men who were never her husbands. However, Jesus Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords, deigned to stop and speak with her in public.”

  “Really?” Julianna thought it quite remarkable. Mr. Tolbert certainly wouldn’t have dealings with such women—at least not in public.

  Adeline dipped one brow. “Anyone can be saved and become a Christian.”

  Julianna looked at the baby she held and touched his wispy reddish-blond hair. She supposed Daniel looked something like this as an infant. “Is your brother saved?” At Adeline’s momentary hesitation she glanced up.

  “I don’t know,” Adeline said at last. Her gaze seemed honed in on Daniel now. He’d taken a seat on a stone bench and watched as two men heaved shovelfuls of dirt onto his father’s grave. “Momma and Poppa raised us to be saved, but it’s an individual decision.”

  “Hmm . . . ” Julianna decided right then that she wanted to be saved. “Well, I believe.”

  Adeline’s troubled expression transformed into one of gladness. “I’m happy to hear that.”

  “And Daniel might believe too.” Julianna stared at him, and her heart ached because she sensed his deep pain and sorrow. “He’s like Jesus in many ways. He’s kind-hearted and generous.”

  “He’s hardly like the Savior. Daniel chose a life of wealth over his own family.”

  “He worked hard for that wealth. George Ramsey merely gave him the opportunities. And aren’t you glad that your brother has the means to help your mum right now? I’d go so far as to say he’s been a godsend.”

  Adeline’s eyes darkened, and Julianna wondered if she’d crossed the boundaries this time. Seconds later, however, Adeline’s taut features calmed. “You’re right. I should be more grateful than resentful.”

  “Why don’t you go talk to him, Adeline? He’s as sad as you are about your father’s passing. I’ll stay here and hold the baby.”

  She laughed. “Oh, you’d come up with any excuse just to hold my son.”

  Julianna smiled at the jest. Then, again, there was a lot of truth to it.

  Standing, Adeline brushed the dried grass from her dark skirt and strode toward her brother. Julianna sent up a prayer. God, if You can hear me, please let these two make their peace.

  Daniel felt a presence beside him and assumed it was Julianna— until he heard his sister’s voice.

  “Thank you for helping Momma out these last few days. I noticed Agnes is wearing a new dress. She hasn’t had one in over a year.”

  He glanced at her. “Of course I’d help out. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t?”

  “Well, I must confess that I’ve wondered.”

  Daniel clenched his jaw. “You wondered? Why, because I chose a way that wasn’t in Mor’s best-laid plans? Poppa’s too, so I recently learned.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  Hearin
g the doubt in Adeline’s voice, Daniel turned. “I never wanted to farm. I made my desires known, and they went ignored.

  After Uncle Jack was killed, Bestafar encouraged me to forge my own path in life, and I did.” His gaze fell on his grandfather’s grassy grave. “I’m sorry I missed his funeral—Bestamor’s too.”

  “You’ve missed a lot, Daniel.” Adeline’s voice sounded tight now. “You missed my wedding and the birth of my son.”

  “I’m sorry, Adeline.”

  She inhaled a sob. Daniel set his arm around her shoulders.

  “Momma and Poppa had such a tough time these last two years. There were months before my marriage that we had no food in our cupboards.”

  He set himself firmly against another wave of guilt.

  “Will and I were always friends in school, and for a long time I wondered if he’d married me out of pity. I know differently now,” she quickly added.

  Daniel glanced at her in time to see a pretty blush radiate from her face.

  “But even after I’d married into a prominent family, our parents were proud and stiff-necked about accepting any charity from me.”

  Daniel ground out a laugh. “Some things never change, I guess.”

  “And many other things do.”

  Daniel held her gaze. “Such as?”

  “Such as I still need my older brother.”

  “Bah!” He didn’t believe that for an instant.

  “What about Momma and Agnes?”

  “I’ve already opened an account for Mor at the bank, and she can draw from it whenever a need arises.”

  “Daniel, they need your emotional support too.” She shifted. “And why don’t you call her Momma like we do? It hurts her that you’ve chosen to refer to her in a formal and more distant manner.”

  “I’m a man. I don’t need a ‘momma.’” He heaved a sigh. “What’s more, I don’t need a lecture from you, Adeline.”

  “What about Julianna? Are you going to leave her here, just like that?” She attempted to snap her gloved fingers.

  “No, not just like that.” Daniel hated being put on the defensive this way. He’d made financial arrangements for Julianna too.

  “Do you love her?”

  Every muscle in Daniel’s body tensed. “That’s none of your business.”

  Adeline grew quiet beside him, but not for long. “Agnes said you’re marrying a princess.”

  “A countess—and it’s not official yet.”

  “Yet? So it’s true? You’ll be leaving soon?”

  “Yes, it’s true.”

  He could feel his sister begin to seethe. “How can abandon your family a second time?”

  Daniel weighed his reply. “I don’t consider it abandonment. Hardly that, Adeline.”

  “You walked away the last time, with the Ramseys, and didn’t give us another thought.”

  “I gave you plenty of . . . thoughts over the years.”

  “We prayed for you every day.” Adeline choked on the words. “For your safety—and that you’d come home again. But if you’d given us any thought at all, you would have answered my letters. Momma’s too.”

  The fight went out of Daniel, and he pulled his sister close. Placing a kiss on top of her head, he held her while she wept. “I’m sorry I neglected you, Addy.” The fact she cried so hard signaled Daniel to her mourning their poppa rather than her disappointment in him.

  “Don’t leave, Daniel.”

  “Now, now . . . you have your husband to care for you. You have your adorable son to raise and . . . to boss.” He chuckled. “That’s all a woman wants in life, right?”

  “Argh!” Adeline broke free from his hold. “You are so dense, Daniel Sundberg.”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps.” He searched her tearstained face. “But did it ever occur to you that I want exactly what your husband wants—to be successful and influential within his community, and—and to raise a family.” From the corner of his eye he could see Julianna, sitting beneath a tree, rocking his nephew. The glimpse was almost surreal, and Daniel’s mouth went dry as he imagined her as his wife, cradling their child.

  But, no!

  He refocused. Marrying Julianna wasn’t written in the stars, as George liked to say.

  “Will wants to be a successful man.” Adeline’s admission helped to tame Daniel’s wayward thoughts. “But he would never sacrifice his family to do so.”

  “Adeline . . . ” Daniel repositioned himself on the cool stone bench. “There is an almighty God in heaven who won’t violate my will. Why do you—why does my family—believe that they can decide what’s best for me?”

  When she didn’t answer, he continued on.

  “You don’t know me at all. None of you do.” If honest, he’d have to confess that Julianna knew him the best. “And let’s be honest. You and Mor and Agnes—and Poppa, when he lived—don’t want to know or accept me for the man I am. Yes, you’d like to dictate to me, manipulate me, but I refuse to succumb. That’s my only fault. I’m not responsible for the poor crops, just like you’re not responsible for the raging tempest which took the lives of four of my crew last year.”

  Adeline’s eyes grew round.

  “I wouldn’t dream of laying that burden at your doorstep.” He leaned his elbows on his knees. He still felt badly for the souls lost during that harrowing voyage. “And yet my family tries time and again to encumber me.” Daniel recalled his poppa’s last words. He died believing he failed, as a farmer and a father. He never gave Daniel a chance to list his successes.

  Then again, he’d probably consider those triumphs wood, hay, and stubble.

  But Poppa was wrong.

  “Adeline, either God is in control of everything or nothing.”

  “He controls everything—even the bad is for our ultimate good.”

  Daniel turned and gave her a pointed stare. “Thank you.”

  She blinked. “So you’re saying it’s God’s will that you leave us again?”

  “Yes.” Part of him chafed at the idea, and yet he believed he spoke the truth. He pushed to his feet then reached for his sister’s hand. “Come. Everyone’s expecting us up at the house.” As long as he was here, he might as well continue his charade of the dutiful and faithful son.

  CHAPTER 21

  M ISS WAYLAND, MAY I have a word with you?”

  A tray of coffee in her hands, Julianna resisted the urge to glance heavenward at Mark Dunbar’s request.

  “Here, allow me to help you with that.”

  “I’ve got it.” Little did he know that she’d carried hundreds of trays in her life. Walking into the small dining room table, Julianna carefully set down her burden. “What can I do for you, Mr. Dunbar?”

  “Could we step outside? I must talk to you.”

  She gazed around at the milling people and decided speaking outdoors might be best if he had more chastisement on his mind. Thank God Mrs. Sundberg and Agnes had forgotten all about Sunday’s incident at church because of Mr. Sundberg’s death.

  Giving him a slight nod, she peeled off the apron Daniel’s aunt lent her and followed him back through the kitchen and outside. People had congregated on the lawn too, so Mark headed toward a thicket of trees.

  “Adeline often speaks of her grandparents’ farm, now her aunt’s home.” Mark slowed his steps. “But I’d never been here until now.” He pointed up ahead. “I believe that’s the apple orchard.”

  Julianna stopped dead still in a patch of shade. “I think we’re out of earshot now. What can I do for you, Mr. Dunbar?” She had little use for this young man.

  “Miss Wayland, I want to beg your forgiveness for my pomp and self-righteousness on Sunday morning.”

  She blinked. She hadn’t expected an apology.

  “When I saw you and the captain”—his gaze dropped to his black boots—“I immediately assumed the worst instead of considering how frightened you must have been and that the captain had merely been comforting you.”

  He’d assumed correctly
the first time, but Julianna knew better than to admit it.

  She considered him and judged him to be sincere. She softened. “The part of London where I come from . . . ” She carefully chose her words. “ . . . can be rather dangerous, particularly after nightfall, and it’s largely due to the number of bawdy sailors coming in and out of port.”

  “So that’s why you fled.” Understanding flashed in his sky-blue eyes. “Well, let me assure you that I’d be able to defend you against any mariners with mischief on their minds.”

  His remark did nothing to assure Julianna at all. If anything, it bespoke of his ignorance in such matters.

  “Well, thank you, but . . . you don’t have to apologize to someone like me.”

  “But of course I do. I was wrong and I can admit it. I behaved like some—”

  “Puritan?”

  Seeing the confusion mar his brow, she realized that only Daniel would understand her quip. Her gaze flitted to the terrace where he stood, talking with Mark’s father and brother. Then, as if feeling her glance land on him, Daniel looked her way. His eyes pinned her, and a warmth spread over her body like soft butter on fresh bread.

  “I’m truly sorry, Miss Wayland.”

  She blinked and forced her attention back to Mark. “Thank you, Mr. Dunbar.”

  “It’s Mark, remember?”

  “Mark.” She gave him a polite grin.

  “I hoped that you’d find it in your heart to forgive me, and, perhaps, we could . . . well . . . ” His face looked suddenly sunburned. “Maybe we could get to know each other better and become more than friends.”

  Julianna fought against a grimace. “Mark, you’d best know now that I’ve decided never to marry.” At his puzzled, even disappointed expression she rushed on. “It has nothing to do with what happened a few nights ago. I made my decision before I arrived in America.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She didn’t know how to explain it either without looking like the wanton hussy that he’d assumed she was after last Saturday night.

  “Is there someone else?”

  “Well . . . ” Julianna focused on the lush green grass so her eyes wouldn’t stray to Daniel and give away her secret.