Threads of Faith

by Andrea Boeshaar

  “We leave for England in a couple of weeks, dear,” she said, “and you still haven’t selected the countess’s engagement ring.” She looked at George wide-eyed and displeased. “The jeweler is waiting.”

  “Fine, fine . . . ” George’s gaze went from his wife’s frowning countenance to Daniel. “Stop at the jeweler’s this afternoon, will you?”

  “I don’t feel much like shopping.” He flipped open the top of his sister’s letter and stared at her neat, circular penmanship. Thoughts of Julianna so despondent that she needed a rest in the country broke his heart all over again. He regretted hurting her and his family. He regretted the rift between Aunt Mary and himself. He’d always loved her—loved all of them. He just hadn’t realized how much until now.

  His father’s words continued to play in his head along with Julianna’s announcement that she was disappointed in him, that he wasn’t so noble after all.

  “Daniel, please stop moping.” Impatience constrained George’s voice. “It’s quite unbecoming for the new executive of Ramsey Enterprises.”

  “And what about the countess’s holiday ball?” Eliza sounded exasperated. “The countess asked me to reply weeks ago.”

  Irritation peaked inside Daniel. “Tell her we won’t attend.” There!

  Eliza’s lower jaw dropped in indignation, and George cleared his throat in objection.

  Daniel softened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He tried to shake off the demons that had been riding him since he boarded the lake steamer and left Manitowoc. All he knew was that he was as depressed as Julianna reportedly felt, and it was his fault. She’d begged him not to leave her. He could still feel her in his arms. He could see her misty eyes, looking up at him, pleading . . .

  God, forgive me! Daniel prayed that one hundred times a day. Yet he felt so empty and . . . unforgiven. He’d become the king of louts, ruthless, unredeemed . . . hopeless.

  Do something about it! The sudden prompting within was so strong that Daniel knew he couldn’t—and shouldn’t—refuse.

  “Eliza, will you excuse us? I need to speak with George privately in his office.”

  “Of course.” She sent him a weak smile. One hand patted her well-coiffured brown hair, indicating her growing impatience.

  George stood, and Daniel led the way into his office.

  Entering behind him, George closed the doors. “What’s this all about?”

  Daniel faced his benefactor and friend. “I can’t do this. I can’t marry Reagan.”

  “Bah!” George waved a hand. “She’s gotten over that article Mabel Brunning sold to the Times along with that scandalous photograph of you dancing with that . . . that scamp. Eliza explained it wasn’t as intimate as it appeared. You were merely being polite. The countess has forgiven you.”

  Daniel didn’t give a hoot about that article and photograph. He’d expected a stunt like that from Mrs. Brunning. As for Reagan, she could hardly feel scandalized. Daniel suspected she’d been in far more compromising situations in his absence, although none had been published in a newspaper . . . yet.

  “It’s not that, George.”

  “What then?” The older man’s brows knitted into a frown as he sat behind his polished desk. “You no longer think she’s a suitable match?”

  “That’s right.”

  Wearing a contemplative frown, George folded his hands over a few papers. “Do you have someone else in mind?”

  The question sounded more like a challenge—one Daniel would accept. “George, I’m in love with your daughter.”

  “What daughter? I have no daughter.”

  “Julianna.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake!” George wagged his head, evidence that he was irked.

  “George, don’t you care that she has your blood running through her veins? Don’t you want to get to know her? Julianna is bright, witty, a tad outspoken . . . ” Daniel nearly grinned. “And she’s competent, lovely, sensitive—”

  “Stop it!” The flat of George’s hand came down hard on the desktop, causing the tall lamp to teeter precariously. “This is madness. Can’t you see?”

  “No. Pretending Julianna doesn’t exist is madness, and I, for one, cannot abide it any longer.” Daniel ran his finger reverently across the broken seal on Adeline’s letter. “There’s something else I cannot pretend to tolerate.”

  “Oh?”

  “Your interception of my mail, from my family to me. For years they tried to reach me. You kept those letters from me, George. Why?”

  Sitting back with a confident air, George said, “I burned them because you’d severed ties with those people in Wisconsin. Remember? They didn’t understand you or respect your decisions. Eliza and I are your true parents.”

  Daniel bristled. “They were my letters, George, and I should have been able to do with them as I pleased. It wasn’t up to you to decide to destroy them.”

  “I didn’t want you to become double-minded—like you are now. Look at yourself. What good are you this way?”

  “Indeed. What good am I?” It took great effort for Daniel to keep his temper in check. “Have you so little regard for my feelings? Am I just some sort of prize horse to you, one that you’ve groomed, trained, and primed for the race?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” George snorted and began sorting through papers on his desk.

  “I love Julianna. Do you hear me? I love her, and I can’t stand the thought of my future without her.”

  George shot to his feet. Anger flashed in his eyes. “And you’re willing to ruin my good name? Our good name?”

  Daniel softened. “No one’s perfect, George. Plenty of men before you have had indiscretions. It’s not like you were married at the time. Besides, it happened so long ago.”

  “Have you any idea what you’re asking me to do?”

  “Yes. Own up to your mistakes. I’d like an apology for burning my personal mail, and I want you to be honest with Eliza.”

  “She’ll leave me.”

  “I doubt it.” So he cared enough about Eliza to want her to stay. Daniel often wondered. “Your wife is a reasonable and compassionate woman.”

  George tucked his hands into the pockets of his gray waistcoat and stared at an invisible spot on the plastered ceiling. “I am sorry for intercepting your mail, Daniel. I knew it was wrong when I did it.” His gaze moved to Daniel’s. “But I also wanted to protect you— protect you from any guilt and pain they might have caused.”

  “You never read them?”

  George shook his head.

  Daniel thought that was something. “All’s forgiven for intercepting my mail, and I actually appreciate your motive for burning them.”

  “Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” He seated himself behind his desk once more.

  “And the matter of Julianna? Will you tell Eliza the truth?”

  “What choice do I have?” George growled the reply, and had Daniel not known the man so well, he might have been intimidated by it.

  “Good. And now there’s the matter of expanding Ramsey Enterprises to the Great Lakes region . . . ”

  George’s eyes sailed to Daniel. “Oh?”

  Daniel grinned at his sudden interest. “My sister’s husband and his father are in need of a reliable shipper for their lumber and paper products. Right now the shippers coming in and out of Manitowoc’s harbor are largely commissioned by investors who aren’t willing to give the Dunbars the cargo space or the service they require.”

  “Hmm . . . ” George ran his forefinger along his upper lip as he considered the idea.

  “Let’s discuss it in great length, shall we?” Daniel smiled. “On our way to Wisconsin. I’m envisioning a large Christmas celebration with snow and sleigh bells.” Except he wanted to go home for Christmas—home to the farm that his father had built. He sucked in a breath, wondering if the new owners would sell it.

  “You’re out of your very mind.” George regarded Daniel askance. “And our trip to Lon
don?”

  “Canceled. But you might promise to take Eliza in the spring so she won’t feel disappointed.” Daniel straightened his vest. “I hope to be happily married by then.”

  “To the London waif turned housemaid?”

  “To your daughter.”

  George’s face reddened. “You’re taking a big chance here with our company—with my reputation and yours as well.”

  “I disagree. I think we’ll look all the better for facing facts and doing what’s good and right.” Daniel knew he’d be far happier for it. “I’m sure I can sway Mabel Brunning to our side.”

  George gave a roll of his eyes. “But don’t you see, everything about your father that disappointed you, you’re now embracing yourself. Selecting a bride who is far beneath your social standing.”

  “She’s your daughter.” Daniel thought it bore repeating. “She’s a Ramsey. And if it’s any consolation, she dislikes you as much as you dislike her. Which is another thing that needs remedying.”

  “Bah!” George stood and sauntered to the other side of the office, where he stared at his many volumes of books. “I won’t do it!”

  Daniel lowered himself into a nearby leather chair. “Oh, yes, you’ll do it, George, for it’ll be far worse for us if I do it.”

  “A threat?” George swung around, his eyes wide. “You scoundrel!”

  Daniel grinned. “I’ve learned from the best, haven’t I.”

  With quick steps George walked to the door and left the office.

  Daniel remained. He hated giving George an ultimatum, but there seemed no help for it. Daniel knew they’d all be better off once the truth was known; however, rough waters were certainly ahead.

  He pondered his last bit of conversation with George. Everything about your father that disappointed you, you’re now embracing yourself.

  Disappointed in Poppa? Daniel supposed it was true. He would have made a fine politician. But he insisted in his dying breath that he was a farmer. He thought he’d failed on that account. Why? Just because the last couple of years were lean? There were many years that were plentiful . . . weren’t there?

  And that Poppa thought he’d failed as a father to Daniel— thought Daniel was a failure, despite his achievements . . .

  A puff of incredulousness left Daniel’s lungs. Maybe Poppa had been correct. Only a fool ignored the truth, ringing as loud as church bells in his heart.

  Each time Julianna heard the clanging of rigging in Manitowoc’s harbor, she thought of Daniel, which proved to be nearly always. She was so glad to have moved away from there. She breathed deeply of the frozen, country air. Miss Mary Sundberg’s farm appealed to her so much more. Even milking cows was an improvement over encountering seafaring men on the boardwalks. No telling which of them might be another Grisly Devil. And Daniel was nowhere around to protect her.

  Then in August Mrs. Sundberg decided to spend a long weekend up here again as a break before Agnes began school. Julianna felt more relaxed, safe, and Miss Mary suggested she stay on. Julianna accepted.

  However, she hadn’t been able to escape her memories, and when things grew quiet around the farm, Julianna’s mind wandered to Daniel. Had he found happiness in New York City with the Ramseys? Had he proposed marriage to his countess yet?

  The gravel crunched beneath the soles of Julianna’s boots as she traipsed to the barn to fetch eggs for supper. Both Mrs. Sundberg and Mary had taught her cooking basics, so tonight’s menu would consist of fresh-baked bread and fried eggs over a beef and potato hash. They’d eat as soon as Mary returned from teaching school, which would be anytime now. In fact, she was a bit tardy today.

  The sound of prancing horse’s hooves in the near distance made Julianna pause. Moments later Miss Mary’s buggy came into view. As she drove the team into the yard, she waved. She pulled to a halt near the barn.

  “I stopped to get the mail.” She held it in one gloved hand.

  John Wolf, a Menomonie Indian and their neighbor who worked for Miss Mary as a part-time farmhand, strode from the barn. “G’d evening, Mary. Want I should unhitch the buggy?”

  “Yes, please, John.”

  Julianna gave the man a gentle smile as he helped Mary alight from the buggy. His English wasn’t so good yet. But Mary helped him learn to read and tutored Julianna as well. Julianna found his presence a comfort.

  Mary came toward Julianna waving envelopes. “We both got letters.”

  “We did?” The eggs forgotten for the time being, Julianna walked to the house beside Mary. “From whom?”

  “My nephew, Daniel.”

  Inside the warm kitchen Mary handed Julianna the ivory envelope addressed to her.

  “It’s probably a wedding announcement.” How cruel that Daniel would send one to her. Then again, he’d shattered her heart the evening before he left. Perhaps his intention was to grind it to bits.

  Mary removed her outerwear then tore open her envelope. Her cheeks were pinked by the cold, early December wind.

  Julianna watched her read. Long moments later Miss Mary peered at her from over the top of the missive.

  “It’s an apology.” Surprise laced her tone. “And an invitation to attend a special Christmas at my late brother’s farm in Manitowoc. Apparently Daniel purchased the place from the man who bought it from Kristin last April.” A piece of paper dropped to the floor. Mary stooped to retrieve it. “It’s a ticket for the train.” She looked at Julianna and smiled.

  Julianna didn’t know what to make of the news. “Is he bringing his countess?”

  “I don’t know.” Mary’s eyes moved to the unopened envelope in Julianna’s hand. “See what your letter says.”

  Julianna carefully broke the seal, opened the envelope, and braced herself for the worst. She saw the familiar handwriting and easily read the note.

  Dearest Julianna;

  I cannot tell you how very ashamed I am of my bad behavior. Last July I gave you shocking and devastating news with little to no sensitivity. I can only hope and pray you will find it in your heart to forgive me.

  I have missed you terribly. Not a single day passes that I do not see your lovely, smiling face in my mind’s eye. This can mean only one thing: I am in love with you, Julianna, and cannot bear to think of my future without you.

  Julianna glanced over at Miss Mary. “I’m glad I’ve been practicing my reading in the evenings along with John Wolf. I believe I’ve improved.” Even so, she couldn’t be sure she’d read Daniel’s letter correctly. Had he really written that he missed her—that he loved her?

  “What is it?” Miss Mary stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t be certain.” Julianna stared at the neatly penned note again and found her ticket for the train. “I got an apology and ticket too, but then . . . ” She looked at Mary again.

  “Would you like me to help you?”

  Julianna inclined her head, timidly. Mary had become a dear friend as well as a fine teacher who not only helped Julianna to improve her reading skills but taught her to cook and clean and launder cloths, make cheese and soap, and a myriad of other household tasks as well. What’s more, Julianna trusted Mary Sundberg. “I’m afraid I might have misread something.”

  Slowly she held the letter out, and Mary carefully took it. A smile curved her lips as she read the words aloud—the very same that Julianna had taken in, albeit with a good measure of disbelief.

  “Well, now.” Mary grinned at Julianna. “It’s quite clear that Daniel isn’t marrying a countess.”

  Julianna’s eyes widened. The idea of marrying Captain Daniel Sundberg made her knees weak—although he hadn’t said anything about marriage.

  Mary read the remainder of Daniel’s letter. He’d opened an account at the department store in town, and both Julianna and Mary were to buy themselves new gowns or the material to sew themselves dresses. The choice was theirs.

  This Christmas will be a time when our family reunites in a special and unforgettable way—a way that wi
ll honor the memories of those loved ones who have passed on into eternity before us.

  Julianna thought of Flora, and sorrow filled her being. However, it couldn’t completely override the excitement she felt about seeing Daniel again. And he loved her? She couldn’t quite grasp the idea. He loved her!

  “We have a lot to do in the next month.” Mary handed back the letter. Her dark eyes shone with enthusiasm. “We’d best get started right away.”

  CHAPTER 25

  W EEKS LATER JULIANNA and Miss Mary disembarked the passenger car at Manitowoc’s small train depot. In a corner of the platform a small ensemble of musicians played “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day” with the late afternoon sun setting behind them.

  Julianna hadn’t ever celebrated Christmas. She’d only served the Tolberts and their guests and, before that, begged in the street, as people were more apt to give a little extra during this time of year. She had never stopped to consider what the holiday was all about—not until recently when she’d watched the Christmas pageant that Mary’s elementary school children put on. It was all about the Christ Child, God, clothed in humanity, coming into the world, not to condemn it, but that through Him the whole world might be saved. Julianna decided it was a glorious message, one filled with immeasurable hope—and she’d never experienced anything like it before.

  Someone waving caught her eye, and Julianna spied Mrs. Sundberg and Agnes, all bundled up and standing near the steps of the platform. She tapped Mary’s shoulder, and they walked the length of the wooden deck.

  “Daniel wrote that he would send a carriage for all of us.” Mrs. Sundberg hugged Mary and then embraced Julianna tightly. “You look much better.” She put her forehead near Julianna’s. “I worried about you for a while.”

  “I feel much better, thank you.”

  “The country agrees with you, then?”

  “Definitely.” Julianna smiled and wrapped Agnes in a hug.

  “How is your business?” Mary directed the question at Mrs. Sundberg.

  “It has been good.” She looked pleased.