Will of Steel

by Lynn Landes

  Will

  of

  Steel

  Lynn Landes

  By:

  Lynn Landes

  Published by:

  Landes Publishing

  Cover art by:

  Cora Graphics

  www.coragraphics.it

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Lynn Landes

  http://followlynnsthread@gmail.com/

  All rights reserved.

  Other titles by Lynn Landes:

  Mercy’s Promise

  Savannah’s Promise

  A Question of Faith

  Delta’s Dawn

  Dust & Dreams

  Stolen Dream’s

  Treasured Dreams

  Perilous Dreams

  A Taste of Heaven

  A Taste of Heaven …

  A dream so sweet...

  Evangelena Thornton works hard at her father's bakery and selling her custom candy. She dreams of opening her own sweet shop and expanding the family business. With new orders, the demand for Thornton Candies is growing.

  Only one thing stands in her way, the banker, William Curry. When Evangelena rejects his romantic advances, he decides to take control of not only her family business but also her future. His advances grow more aggressive, and with every passing day, her dreams seem unattainable

  Wealthy businessman, Harlan Weber returns to Denver to be near his family. Years of traveling have taken its toll and he's ready to put some roots down. His first thought is to find local businesses to invest in, and after tasting Thornton Candies he sees a golden opportunity. Now Harlan has to convince the beautiful baker to trust him.

  What happens when their dreams and plans evaporate? If they can learn to trust in God's hand in their lives, perhaps a dream so sweet will come true.

  Prologue

  Port of Philadelphia

  1888

  “Almost home,” Johan sighs, thinking of his wife before sleep takes him. Big beautiful blue eyes lit with laughter and love. He prays it’s not too late to be the husband she deserves. The rocking motion of the ship lulls him to sleep.

  He jerks awake the moment the door to his cabin is thrown open and rough hands grab him. One covers his mouth, and he fights, growling and struggling to break free as more hands drag him from the bed. Kicking out with his feet he hits one of them in the chest with a whoosh of escaped air and a thud as the man drops to the deck of the tiny cabin. He fights harder but the hands holding him just tighten their grip, locking him down.

  “Don’t let him go!” a deep voice hisses.

  “You try to hold him! He’s feisty,” another chuckles as a third slams a cloth over his mouth with a sickly-sweet scent. Johan amps up his struggle, fighting wildly, as his head swims from the fumes coming from the rag. His struggles lessen as the chloroform does its job. Sorrow fills his heart as he thinks of his wife, waiting for him, followed quickly by regret for all he’s leaving her with. He feels a strike to the side of his head with something hard, causing his ears to ring. The chemical soaked cloth releases for a second, allowing him to drag in a breath, but the moment he tries to turn away, the cloth is back. His struggles slow, until finally he falls limp in their arms.

  “I didn’t expect that kind of fight,” a voice states.

  “Boss said no witnesses. Make it look like an accident. His body needs to be found in the harbor.” They pour whiskey on him and another drinks what is left, before sliding the empty bottle securely inside the pocket of the man pants.

  “What now?”

  “Now we toss him.” Glancing around, they notice the sparkling lights of the city through the porthole and urgency takes over. “Hurry!”

  Gathering his arms and legs they drag Johan’s limp body through a hatchway and toss it over the rail into the dark waters of the harbor and walk away laughing about what they’re going to do with the money.

  ***

  “Mrs. Regent, surely someone else can identify the body,” the coroner states, but Mrs. Jordan Regent shakes her head.

  “Let me do this for you, Jordan,” Mark argues, just like her father did, but she is adamant.

  “No. I need to do this.”

  Her father clamps his lips shut and loops an arm through hers, guiding her inside.

  The room is cold and dark, except the flickering of oil lamps. Her eyes go instantly to the body stretched out on a table and covered with a sheet. The scent of ammonia and death is heavy on the air, and Jordan knows she’ll never forget the smell of it.

  “Mrs. Regent. This will be difficult for you. The body was in the water for at least two days that we know of, and the conditions, the saltwater and fish, aren’t kind. I’d caution you to allow someone to do this for you.”

  “Papa?” Fear has her hesitating and looking to her father.

  “Allow me to do this, Johan wouldn’t want you to remember him this way.” Her father guides her into the hallway before she can change her mind. Just as fast he steps back through the door leaving her with Mark, her husband’s best friend and business partner.

  “Keep her here!” her father insists as the door closes behind him.

  A few minutes later she is sitting on a wooden bench outside the door, and she can’t bring herself to look up from her father’s black shoes. “I’m sorry, Jordan. It is Johan.”

  Sobs wrack her shoulders and he sits beside her as she weeps for all that was lost and should’ve been.

  Chapter 1

  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

  1890

  “He’s back,” Felicia snaps with a sigh of frustration. “You will have to talk to him, Jordan.”

  “Fine, but how many times must I say no before he understands that I’m not selling the business to him?” Jordan stands and stretches, smoothing her slate blue wool jacket.

  “You look beautiful, as always,” she smiles. “I’ll send Mark in a few minutes to rescue you.”

  “Thank you.” Mark Seaborn is Felecia’s husband and the accountant for Regent Steel Company.

  Orson Barnaby steps inside the office and stares at the Grecian beauty sitting behind the desk. With her enormous blue eyes and tall elegant grace she should be anywhere but stuffed inside a cramped office, struggling to make ends meet. ‘It’s a shame that she is so stubborn,’ he thinks to himself.

  His eyes drop to her cupid bow lips and he watches the way she frowns, when he stares openly at her with a no attempt to hide his attraction to her.

  “How may I help you this time, Mr. Barnaby?” Jordan asks being sure to stay behind her desk. Orson Barnaby may be considered a catch because of his wealth and good looks, but she isn’t interested in a romantic relationship. Her eyes drop to the image on her desk of her husband Johan and she feels almost as if he’s with her, not buried in the churchyard.

  “Thank you for seeing me today, Ms. Regent.” Orson glances around the small, cramped office and sniffs in disdain. “I had hoped to hear from you regarding our last meeting. If you’d have dinner with me, I could explain in greater detail how we could both benefit by you selling Regent Steel to me.”

  Jordan watches as his eyes trail over her taupe bodice trimmed with gold stitching and fights the urge to pull at her blue jacket. “As I’ve told you, three times now, Mr. Barnaby, my husband’s wishes were very clear in his last will and testament. Even if I wanted to sell his business to you, the law restricts me from doing so. Now, I’m very busy…” she says, but he leans forward, stopping her in mid-sentence.

  “If you were to remarry, Jordan, his wishes would
no longer matter. I’ve spoken to my attorney’s and they’ve assured me that your property would simply transfer to your new spouse, leaving you free to start your life again.”

  “Marriage!” Jordan’s mouth parts open in surprise, “You hardly know me, Mr. Barnaby.”

  “You’ve made it difficult, I’ll admit, but we would surely be suitable.” He leans forward, “You’re beautiful…”

  “No!” she snaps, interrupting him. “I won’t marry you, Mr. Barnaby. There is more to marriage than beauty.” Jordan jumps up, moving around the desk intending to open the door and call for help, but Orson steps around the desk, blocking her.

  “You can’t possibly tell me you are enjoying struggling to make ends meet.” His frustration boils over. “What about the people you employ? You have a responsibility to those families, and I can promise that we will take care of them.”

  “You’re right, I do have a responsibility and that’s also none of your business.” Anger simmers in her eyes. “Tell me why you are so intent on buying a failing Steel mill. I don’t understand, what’s in it for you?” she demands.

  His eyes fill with lust and he grips her upper arms, “How about I show you instead?”

  Horror ripples through her as she realizes what he intends. Jordan pushes back, trying to put distance between them. “Release me!” she stammers.

  “Mrs. Regent, your carriage is ready,” Mark says, as knocks and pushes the door open. His eyes darken as he sees the relieved look on Jordan’s face and the anger on Orson’s.

  “Take your hands off her!” he demands as she jerks away from Orson. “Are you okay?”

  “Thank you Mark, I am now.” She turns back to Orson, “Our business is concluded, Mr. Barnaby. You are no longer welcome at Regent Steel and any further contact will be through my attorney.”

  Orson snatches his hat from the chair and marches to the door. He stops in front of her, ignoring Mark as he towers over her menacingly. “Choose wisely who you side with Jordan. You’ve lost enough.” He walks from the office slamming the door with a crash.

  Trembling with anger and fear, she lets Mark guide her to a chair. “What was that about?”

  “He asked me to marry him! Apparently, his lawyer said there is a loophole in the will and if I marry him everything would transfer to Barnaby Steel Company.”

  Mark sits next to her, “Are you considering it?”

  “Of course not!” she gapes at him. “How could you even ask me that? Johan was your best friend. You know how he felt about Barnaby Steel.”

  “I do, Jordan, but that sounded distinctly like a threat.” His eyes darken with emotion as he looks at her. “Johan’s been dead for two years, and you’ve done your best. Maybe it’s time to consider letting it go and starting your life over.”

  “Thank you for your advice.” Jordan stands stiffly grabbing her coat and bag. “I am meeting my parents for dinner.” She rushes from the office and down the stairs into her waiting carriage.

  Mark watches her leave and stands slowly to greet his wife as she enters. “She can’t keep doing this, Felecia. I know she wants to honor his memory and last wishes, but she isn’t a miracle worker.”

  “We will have to pray and trust the Lord to guide her path. Johan had his reasons. We just don’t know what they are.” Felecia kisses her husband, and they get back to work.

  Chapter 2

  “Follow that carriage,” Orson tells his driver as he sits back. “It would seem Mrs. Regent will need some persuading to see things my way.” He sniffs and draws out a pocket watch from his vest pocket. “Tonight, it’s the usual, no doubt,” swinging the watch lightly he slips it back into his navy suit and grins as he waits for his companion to reply.

  “Yes, Sir. Dinner with Robert and Alexandria Sims, every Wednesday evening,” West says. Spying for Barnaby Steel pays much better than Mrs. Regent, and he feels no guilt about it. The carriage stops across the street, and he leans forward to watch Jordan greet her family. A miniature version of Jordan flies through the front door of the modest home, and into her waiting arms. Dark curls and beautiful eyes, they are the spitting image of each other. They turn and walk inside, and he smiles.

  “I imagine that sisters are very close, aren’t they?” Orson’s eyes take on a dark look as the plan forms in his mind.

  “I would think so,” West replies.

  “What would you do for your family, Jordan?” he wonders.

  “What wouldn’t she do, Sir?” West grins.

  Barnaby Steel employed spies in all the steel factories that are competitors. When word came that Johan Regent was working on a new formula and process to make steel in America that could compete or beat the Welsh Steel that Barnaby’s family provided, they made an offer to buy his business out.

  Johan refused his offer to buy Regent Steel and denied having any such formula, but they knew better. It was a simple matter to make accidents happen. He’d hoped that after Johan’s death his widow would sell him the company.

  “It’s a shame, really. Her refusal to cooperate has become problematic. I will need a new plan. I want that formula! Continue reporting on her whereabouts. I want to know everything. Go through her mail, talk to those who work for her, leave nothing out. She has to know more than she’s letting on.” He taps the roof to his carriage, and they drive off.

  ***

  “Jordan!” Erin calls and throws herself into her arms, knocking her hat from her head and upsetting her updo, spilling dark curls all about her shoulders. Jordan laughs and lifts her up, swinging her seven-year-old sister in a circle.

  “There’s my girl!” Jordan laughs. She sets her on her feet and rescues her hat, tossing her long curls over her shoulder. “What’s for dinner? I’m starved.” Together they walk inside while Erin chats happily. Just as Jordan closes the door, she sees a familiar carriage across the street.

  Jordan frowns and removes her coat, hanging it on a hook before hurrying to the window in the foyer. The carriage is gone, and she sighs in relief. “Getting paranoid, Jordan,” she murmurs.

  “See something interesting?” her father, Robert asks as Erin runs to the kitchen.

  “No, Papa. Are you well?” she asks as she turns to greet him. He hugs her tight.

  “I am. How are things at work?” he asks as his wife Alexandria calls to them.

  “There’s time for that later, dinner is ready.” Jordan loops an arm through his and walks with him into the kitchen to hug her mother. Erin is skipping around and smiling as they work together to get dinner on the table. They eat and talk as laughter fills the home, washing away the stress of the day.

  “How are your piano lessons?” Jordan asks her sister.

  “Fine,” she is wiggling in her seat, desperate to run and play but not wanting to be rude.

  “More than fine,” Alexandria says. “She’s a natural! According to her teacher, she’s leaps and bounds ahead of the other students her age.”

  “Leaps and bounds, Mama, or bounds and leaps?” Jordan teases, and Erin giggles behind her hand.

  “Oh, you two are like peas in a pod,” she tugs on her rose-colored silk scarf pulling it from her neck and struggles to hide her own smile.

  “Pods in a pea?” Erin quips and Jordan laughs.

  “I’d think they were twins if there weren’t sixteen years between you!” Papa says.

  “Twenty-three is old!” Erin yawns.

  “Hey!” Jordan says in mock outrage.

  “Sixteen years aren’t so many years,” Mama smiles. “Time for bed little one, say goodnight.”

  Erin jumps up and throws her arms around Jordan’s neck. “Will I see you tomorrow, Jordy?”

  “I’ll try, nugget, I have some work to do.” Erin leans her head on Jordan’s shoulder.

  “You always have work, Tony says girls shouldn’t work,” she sniffs and wraps a curl around her finger.

  “Tell Tony, this girl works because she has to,” Jordan presses a kiss to her cheek.

  �
�I love you, Jordy,” she whispers and giggles at the nickname.

  “I love you more, nugget,” she quips. Erin spots a jade and gold crescent moon brooch on Jordan’s shoulder and touches it reverently. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful,” Erin sighs. Jordan unpins it and holds it up. Her mother smiles and offers her scarf to Jordan.

  “Mother gave it to me on my wedding day. You may borrow it, if you promise to take care of it.” Jordan wraps the rose colored scarf around Erin’s neck and pins it. Erin’s eyes are huge as she covers the pin with her hand.

  “I promise not to take it off, ever.”

  “Well maybe to sleep,” Jordan teases as Erin hugs her tight and says good night. Alexandria offers a hand and guides her from the room.

  Her father is smiling as he says his goodnight and Jordan helps him clear the table and work on dishes while her mother tucks in Erin.

  “Why does Mother let Erin play with Tony? You know he taught her how to pick pockets?”

  “I know,” her father chuckles.

  “Papa, it’s not funny! She stole Mark’s pen out of his pocket, and he didn’t have a clue.”

  “That was something else,” he says with a barely concealed grin.

  “I don’t think you should be proud of that,” she sniffs and wipes the counter down.

  Her father stops moving and looks at her. “Jordan the bible says that God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. I see potential in little Tony and I’m hoping to make a difference in his life.”