Endless Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  “Let’s do that, John.” Madysen tapped her brother-in-law’s arm. “We need that equipment, and there might not be six weeks of shipping left. I know they’re thinking we won’t be frozen in before November, but I’ve seen it happen in October.”

  “I’m sure if we telegraph it, we can make it work.” Daniel would do whatever he could to make it happen.

  “Then let’s do it.” John pulled several coins out of his pocket. “The building should be finished in a couple weeks, and we’d like to get started with the cheese making as soon as possible.” He replaced his hat and tipped it at Daniel. “Good to meet you. We’d love to have you out to the farm sometime.”

  “Would be my pleasure.” And not just for the sheep.

  “Mr. Beaufort.” Miss Powell gave a nod and followed her brother-in-law to the door.

  “Nice to meet you both.” In truth, meeting Miss Madysen Powell would probably be the highlight of his whole month.

  “Oh, look!” She stopped by the post in the center of the store and stared at an advertisement Dad had put up. “Mr. Beaufort, do you know anything about this?”

  He walked around the counter to her side. “Oh, that’s the new group Mr. Reynolds brought in.”

  “‘Merrick’s Follies and Frolics,’” she read aloud. “‘Singers, dancers, jugglers, magicians, and an Irish Tenor who is guaranteed to make you cry.’”

  The bell jangled above the door.

  “That sounds interesting.” John leaned in closer, looking at the poster, and then turned to Daniel. “You say Judas brought them in?”

  “I did, indeed.” All eyes shifted to the voice at the door. Mr. Reynolds stood there, tall, smartly dressed, and with an air about him that demanded attention. A large smile filled his face. “Good to see you, John.” He nodded. “And Miss Powell. How pretty you are in that green calico.”

  Daniel had thought so too, but of course hadn’t mentioned it, or the way the gathered black band made her waist appear so very small.

  “Mr. Reynolds.” Miss Powell offered him a warm smile and stepped closer. “I was just reading the flyer about Merrick’s Follies and Frolics.”

  He rubbed his hands together and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve seen how popular you and your sisters are at the Roadhouse and realized we needed more clean entertainment in our fine town.”

  “That’s wonderful! I can’t wait to catch a show myself.” Miss Powell patted Reynolds on the arm as if they were longtime friends.

  Reynolds’s face turned serious. “How’s the family? Everyone making it through this difficult time? And your grandfather?” The older man’s tender tone conveyed great care for this family. They must have known one another for many years.

  “Doing well.” John shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for asking. Chuck is improving every day, and we’re ordering supplies for our cheese-making business. All of the ewes gave birth, so we will have plenty of milk once we wean all the lambs.”

  Reynolds narrowed his gaze “That’s wonderful news. But can you get the shipment in before winter freeze?”

  “We’re having the store wire the order. It’s expensive, but we’re desperate to have that equipment before winter.” John tapped his hat against his thigh.

  “I’ll see to it that they put the wire on my account.” Reynolds’s take-charge mode was hard to ignore. He looked to Daniel. “I have some things that need to be wired as well. Just charge it all to me.”

  “That’s very generous, but unnecessary. You’ve done so much already.” Madysen’s expression was one of adoration.

  “I insist.” Mr. Reynolds’s chest puffed out just a bit.

  “You’ve always been so good to our family.” Another one of those heart-melting smiles. If only it were aimed at him.

  “It’s my pleasure. You’ll give Chuck and your sisters my best, won’t you?” The man beamed at Miss Powell.

  “Of course. Good to see you, as always.”

  The exchange between these people made him think that maybe it wasn’t so bad to be in Nome. He could stay here, couldn’t he? Find something to do that gave him purpose?

  Miss Powell waved at him as she left the store.

  “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

  Daniel pulled his attention from the door to focus on Reynolds.

  “You should hear them all sing. It’s like listening to angels.” And with that, the man turned for the counter.

  Daniel would definitely look forward to hearing Miss Madysen Powell sing.

  Who was he kidding? He’d do anything just to see her again. In the space of one encounter, the world looked brighter. One thing was certain. He wouldn’t be able to get the redheaded Miss Powell off his mind.

  FOUR

  Very interesting. Judas pressed his lips together and squinted at the papers on his desk. So the Bundrant Dairy and Poultry yard were expanding into full-time cheese production. He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d heard them speak of it, and they were definitely capable—especially with the sheep they’d acquired from him. And they’d done it all without his help.

  Definitely not what he’d hoped.

  The more the dairy grew, the more powerful that family became. In the past, it had all been Chuck. But when the old man fell ill, the Powell women didn’t crumble. It had been the perfect opportunity to ingratiate himself to them. Yet somehow it hadn’t gone according to plan. Oh, he still had their adoration and respect, but they didn’t need him like they should. They’d even paid off all their debt to him! In record time.

  They’d found a way to thrive. Without him. And that was unacceptable.

  Now they were stronger than ever. Steady. Faithful.

  Qualities that were overflowing and spilling out into Nome. His town.

  He should have known that the Roselli fellow would be trouble. But now that the man had married into the family, there was no getting rid of him.

  Judas let out a long, low growl. His profits came from the chaos, crime, and depravity of the boomtown. He became everyone’s hero. But if the town cleaned up, where would that leave him?

  His reputation as a wealthy and respected man was well-known. But only a select few had learned, through their own stupidity, that he was also ruthless.

  Those people were no longer in Nome.

  He drummed his fingers on his desk. It was a pity he hadn’t been able to work the situation this past summer more to his benefit. But once Chuck regained his senses after the apoplexy and was able to communicate again, he told his family and foreman where he kept his money. Apparently he still had plenty. They’d paid for the sheep, the chickens . . . everything. Now they didn’t owe him anything.

  Which meant Judas had no leverage.

  He’d never been able to get that over Chuck Bundrant and his farm.

  What was he missing? He hadn’t come this far in this town not to succeed. Nome was his for the running. He could be mayor if he chose to buy the position for himself. But owning the main freighting service gave him far more power than the position of mayor. And since he’d added a passenger service that summer, he’d tripled his profits as hundreds, if not thousands, more men poured in to find their fortune in gold. As soon as they disembarked, his men were there to sell them claim sites and extra equipment.

  There was also the hotel he’d had built and the beginnings of a proper docking system. That wouldn’t be complete until next year, but he could require that anyone who wanted to use it pay a hefty rental.

  All of it was his. So how did Bundrant and his beautiful granddaughters elude his control? If the girls kept packing out the Roadhouse with their performances, they’d have even more sway trying to convince the men to clean up the town.

  And that wouldn’t do.

  He couldn’t charge them more for their orders or hold up any of their shipments. To hurt Chuck Bundrant and his granddaughters would be like cutting off his nose to spite his face. So how to get them beholden to him—so deeply in need of his help that they couldn’t turn away anything h
e asked them to do?

  Everything he wanted was within his grasp. He’d worked years to make it to this point. He couldn’t let one man and his piddly little dairy farm stand in the way.

  Then there was Martin Beaufort. The man had been struggling financially for some time. Did his son have any idea how bad things were? It could be another avenue to exploit. Another business to get under his influence and power.

  Looking into young Daniel Beaufort could prove beneficial. Perhaps there were more secrets to the family hidden away. All in good time.

  He would have control.

  The sun dipped low outside Chuck’s window. He’d always loved this view. Exactly why he built the house positioned like this. Just never expected that he’d see so much of the view and for so long a time. Weeks of sitting in a chair or lying in bed. Unable to walk. Unable to talk.

  The outskirts of Nome stretched out around him with the river valley gradually giving way to rolling hills. In the distance were mountains, but from this vantage point, he couldn’t see them. The ocean was to the south and west, and while he couldn’t see that either, the effects of it were always present in the damp air and chilled breeze. Most impressive were the fogs that rolled in at speeds that baffled newcomers and had left more than one man lost in the wall of clouds.

  He chuckled. He’d even gotten lost when a fog rolled in off the water. One minute he’d been walking a clear path made by the natives, and the next he couldn’t see his own feet. The terrible loneliness, the isolation. . . . He shivered at the memory of it. Stuck there in that fog, he could believe he was the last man left on earth.

  He’d never felt that again—until his apoplexy.

  What happened to the days of health and strength of his youth? When did he get so old? It seemed to happen overnight. But then again, he’d ignored the signs. The headaches, pounding heartbeats, and shortness of breath. Why hadn’t he paid more attention? Melly had probed about his irritation and being out of sorts, but he’d brushed his daughter’s concerns aside.

  Now she was gone.

  His health was gone.

  Doc had warned he’d been pushing too hard. When the first bout of apoplexy hit, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But the second bout was much worse. And today he was paying the price for his stubbornness and pride.

  And for the secrets he had kept.

  Secrets that hurt his girls no matter how right he’d thought his reasons were at the time. And he’d lost Melissa before he could apologize. But she’d known the truth. When the girls found the box of letters Melly had written to them under her bed, he’d cried as they read them aloud. She knew about Christopher and his other family. And the fact that her husband wasn’t dead.

  Did she know that Chuck had orchestrated it to protect her and the girls? Why did she never say anything? Was she angry with him?

  It tormented him. Especially at night.

  Parents should never have to face losing a child. Parents were supposed to go first. His amazing daughter had endured a lot over the years. Rarely did she ever complain. She’d supported him and encouraged him through thick and thin.

  But one question plagued him the most. Had she forgiven him?

  He sure hoped so.

  His chest ached and tears pricked his eyes. Not a man accustomed to tears, he’d shed a river of them this past summer. Losing his daughter was the worst pain he’d ever endured. Like someone took a hot poker to his heart and, instead of stabbing him, just let it burn. Long and slow. Never relenting.

  There’d been no good-byes. He hadn’t even been able to speak to her. Yet she sacrificed for him, taking care of him day and night. Never told him about the asthma. Then she contracted whooping cough. He hadn’t been there for her in the toughest time of her life. And he’d always been there. That grieved him the most.

  God, please forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. And I know that You already have forgiven me. But I feel this need to confess over and over again. How do I help my family now? Where do we go from here?

  All this time Chuck had on his hands had led him to long conversations with the Lord. And plenty of Bible reading. He’d always thought that he had a good relationship with God, but it was growing. God had been doing a mighty work on his heart. Which he desperately needed. Even still, would he be able to make a difference with his granddaughters? He’d failed Melly. He couldn’t fail them too.

  He felt a new challenge in his soul. He’d faced death—multiple times. For some reason, the good Lord had given him a second chance. And a third. What would he do with it?

  After Maddy’s birthday party, she’d sat beside his bed telling him how awful she felt that she didn’t want to forgive her father. Guilt riddled him over her anguish. The fault for that lay squarely on his own shoulders. Had he ever said a decent word about his son-in-law? The torment was what he deserved. The anguish his granddaughter was in was because of him.

  And the longer he had time to think about it, the more it hurt—like a knife in his gut.

  Not that he wanted Christopher to be a part of their family again. He’d moved his family to Alaska to get away from the man and the memory of him. Chuck flat out didn’t want the guy around. But did he have a right to keep Christopher Powell from his own flesh and blood? The girls had a right to know their father—to forgive him if they chose to.

  Christopher said he’d turned his life around. Shouldn’t Chuck give his son-in-law a second chance? Just like God gave Chuck?

  Chuck looked down at the paper and pencil in his lap. He’d gotten a lot better at writing lately and was beginning to utter some sounds—even words. But most of the time they couldn’t understand him yet. Well, tonight, during the family meeting, he’d have a letter ready for them.

  One that he needed to write immediately.

  The fire in the fireplace crackled and popped. Madysen rubbed her hands together. “It’s much chillier tonight. Please don’t tell me the first snow is on its way.” Taking her seat on the settee, she looked around at her family.

  Chuckles echoed around the room.

  “This is September in Alaska, Maddy.” Whit shot her a smile and winked. “No guarantees.”

  Granddad sat in his wheelchair, and there was a good bit of color in his face. Madysen’s heart lifted just looking at him. He’d begun to heal. Finally something joyful!

  On his lap, he held his box, which contained paper and pencil so he could communicate with them all. He worked on exercises every day with John to regain his speech, and there had been marked improvement.

  Whitney walked over to Mama’s favorite wingback chair and curled up in it with her feet tucked under her. Havyn sat on the other settee cuddled next to John. The sight of the sweet love between them almost made Madysen long for a romance of her own. Something her family would love too, especially if she settled down here.

  A lovely thought. Kind of what she’d always expected. But something inside her hadn’t been satisfied for quite some time. In her dreams, she’d seen herself in fancy dresses, taking a bow in front of a concert hall packed with people. Was it selfish and prideful of her to dream of performing to the masses? Was it childish and silly to long to travel? Or was she just unsatisfied . . . with everything?

  The past summer had brought all the unsettled feelings to the surface. She loved her family more than anything, and if she really thought about it, the idea of leaving them and this place they called home ripped her heart in two. So what was the answer?

  What was wrong with her?

  “Maddy?”

  “Hm?” She focused on their faces. They all stared at her. “I’m sorry. My thoughts must have been elsewhere. What did you say?”

  John gave her an understanding glance and put his arm around Havyn. “We’re discussing the farm. Would you like to update everyone on where we are with the sheep?”

  “Oh. Of course.” John had implemented this new meeting each week since Granddad could join them now. They each talked about their respective responsibilitie
s and brainstormed ideas for how to make things better. She cleared her throat. “Well, John and I ordered supplies this morning for the new kitchen. We’re hopeful that we can get it in before the last ship and agreed to pay to telegraph the order, but Judas Reynolds included it with his wire free of charge. Since his freighting company is so large, he seemed assured that we would get it all in time since it’s with his order.”

  Whitney tapped her pencil against her paper. “Certainly he’s expecting his order before the harbor freezes, so we should be safe to plan on it.”

  “We should bake him one of those apple cakes he likes so much to show our appreciation.” Havyn leaned forward and scribbled on the paper in her lap.

  “Oh! What if we gave him some cheese?” Ideas popped into Madysen’s mind faster than her words came out. “He loves the mozzarella we make, and Granny Beaufort suggested her grandson Daniel might be able to help us with some recipes for the sheep’s milk cheeses. Apparently, he made a lot with his mother. I didn’t have time to talk to him about it, but he said he would help us.”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Whit could never keep up with her once she got going. But in her sister’s defense, she did tend to talk too fast when she was excited.

  “He did offer to help.” John’s support of her boosted her confidence.

  “What a relief,” Whitney said as she wrote on her paper, “to have someone else with knowledge should help us save time in the research department. Not that we really had time to spare for it anyway.”

  Havyn leaned forward and patted Madysen’s knee. “Good for you, Maddy. If you can enlist Daniel’s help, that should get us up and running even faster. Anything else about the sheep?”

  “Gracious, yes.” She bit her tongue to keep from sharing too fast. “All of the ewes have now given birth, some of them even had twins, so the flock has more than doubled. We’re going to try and wean the lambs in thirty days—a new technique that John heard about—and then we will stagger the breeding so that we should have milk all year to keep cheese production steady.”