He watched the door slam shut, utterly confused. "But Edmund's just a kid," he muttered. How in the world could Johanna be engaged to a boy so young? Baffled, he turned back to the other young lady behind the desk, who looked ashamed of the first woman's attack. “I'm Margaret McDonough, Johanna's sister. I apologize for her behavior. It was my father you needed to see?" Her voice was soft and sweet.
She was every bit as lovely as her sister, but he wasn't drawn to her as he had been her older counterpart. He wanted to chase after the elder Miss McDonough, but he needed that job, so he squared his shoulders and gave the younger sister his full attention.
Benjamin nodded, utterly confused by the entire situation. This young lady had her hair lopsided—as if someone had removed it and pinned it back on incorrectly. That wasn't possible, though, was it? Young ladies couldn't remove their hair!
"I can take you to him." She came around the wooden counter and started down a long hallway, indicating he should follow. "I apologize for my sister's churlish behavior. She received some bad news earlier, and it's hit her rather hard."
"About Edmund Berkeley?" Benjamin asked. He had no idea why the other Miss McDonough thought she was marrying a child, but hopefully her sister would tell him.
Margaret nodded. "Yes. How do you know Mr. Berkeley?"
"Oh, I just met him outside the hotel. He's the one who told me to ask for Miss Johanna McDonough and to be sure and tell her he'd sent me. I thought it would help get me a position with your fine establishment. I had no idea it would cause that kind of reaction." Benjamin still didn't know what had just happened.
Margaret looked at him over her shoulder and then began to laugh, drawing them both to a stop. When she could breathe again, she asked, "This Edmund you met outside. Was he a curly, red-headed boy of about thirteen?"
Benjamin nodded, not sure what else to say. Why was she so amused?
She put her hand over her mouth, another hiccup of laughter escaping. "I apologize, Mr. . ."
"Jarrett. Benjamin Jarrett," he said, inclining his head toward her. He was beginning to wonder about the sanity of this family. They seemed to laugh and become angered at the oddest things. Maybe he shouldn't work here after all. If only there were another place close by for him to find employment.
"I apologize, Mr. Jarrett. It seems you have been the victim of one of my nephew's practical jokes. The boy who called himself Edmund Berkeley is actually my eldest brother's son, Jesse McDonough."
Thoroughly confused, Benjamin asked, "Then why would he say he was Edmund Berkeley? Who is Edmund Berkeley, anyhow?" Whoever he was, he'd caused a rather severe reaction in the elder Miss McDonough's behavior.
Margaret sobered. "The kid is constantly causing problems. It's just his nature. As to Edmund . . . well, my father arranged a marriage for my sister with the man and informed her of it only today. She didn't take it well."
"Arranged marriage? I thought those disappeared years ago," he said. He understood her anger all at once. He'd have been furious, too. When he finally married, it would be for love and companionship, not because someone told him he must.
She nodded once, then took his arm and guided him down the hall. "They did. Unfortunately, my father has run out of patience waiting for Johanna to find a husband and found one for her. Personally, I think he hopes she'll finally defy him and go find a man of her own—but don't tell either of them I said so." She shrugged.
Benjamin patted her hand. "You have my word, Miss McDonough. I shan't say a thing." Who would he say it to anyway? He didn't know anyone there. Besides, they all seemed more than a little crazy to him. He was half afraid to open his mouth to say anything.
Chapter Three
Johanna knew she should be working, but seeing Edmund Berkeley’s lackey was just too much, and she had to get away. She headed past a bench outside and toward one of the places that always gave her peace. It almost surprised her as she made her way through the halls of Les Eaux de Guérison, her parents' pretentious name for the hot springs and hotel that sprang up around it. It was French to match the original name of the town, Auvergne, now known as Whispering Springs.
Thankfully, pretentious as it sounded, the therapeutic hot springs brought a lot of business, and her parents' homestead had become something extraordinary. Even she had to admit that. The entire family now worked for the hotel in one capacity or another. It far exceeded anything any of them had hoped for when her father had left his hotel manager job in New York and dragged his family out West on a train to homestead.
She wasn't currently headed for the springs, though they did have a soothing effect on even her temper. She all but ran down the hall to the very end, then flew through a door and stopped, letting the door shut behind her as she took in the scent of life. Roses, lilacs, and lilies grew to decorate their fine hotel. Fresh basil and chives were destined for the kitchen. Lemongrass, strawberries, and peppers would grace their plates. Her favorite smell of all, the mineral tang of earth, dark and rich, filled her nostrils. She walked past the many plants, her fingers brushing a few, until she found her bench in the far corner and sat. She needed to think.
Unfortunately, all she could do in that moment, was pull her knees to her chest and let the tears fall. Her body shook, wracked with sobs. How could her father, the man who was supposed to protect her, promise her to an old man she had no memory of?
There were days she wished she could ride away with no chaperone to forget her life for a while. Days she wished she had the freedom of a man to come and go and do as she pleased. If she had a choice she would homestead or leave this place and travel the world—but it wasn't safe for an unmarried woman. The only thing marrying Edmund Berkeley would give her was the money to travel and hire a companion to guard her. It still didn't seem worth it. Now if that handsome servant of Edmund’s was a homesteader, and she could stay here and work the land—that would be worth marrying for. It was too bad he worked for the enemy.
Tired of crying and desperate to move, she wandered among the rows of raised beds, picking a raspberry here, a spearmint leaf there, just letting her mind stew over the conversation with her father and his changed attitude of the past few months. Why had he changed? He’d always supported her independent spirit. Was there something he wasn’t telling her, or was he just fed up with waiting for her to find a husband of her own? Was Edmund Berkeley perhaps a better catch than any of the local men would be?
No. That couldn’t be. Not at his age. Marriage was about so much more than vows. It was supposed to be about love, especially in this modern day. How could he even consider marrying her off to a stranger and sending her away? It was so unlike him. He wanted even his grandchildren to live close, but her? He was throwing her away like a fish that was too small to cook for his supper. She wrapped her arms around herself, wondering what was wrong with her that her father didn't want to keep her.
Lost in her thoughts, Johanna never heard the footsteps behind her and didn’t realize anyone was there until her sister-in-law spoke. “Are you hiding or admiring?” the raven haired girl asked.
Johanna spun and put her hand to her throat. “You scared me, Clara.” How on earth did her sister-in-law manage to sneak up on her so often? It made her crazy, but she loved the girl nonetheless.
The girl, who was just a few years her elder, grinned. “Well, that’s half the fun now, isn’t it?”
Despite herself, Johanna chuckled. Clara always had that effect on her. “You would know. I’ve never been good at surprising you.” Johanna plucked the leaves off a spearmint plant, the sharp aroma striking her nose. She scrunched up her face, then put the leaf in her mouth and tucked it in her cheek.
“That’s because your step is so heavy. It’s hard to sneak when you clomp everywhere.” Clara bumped Johanna with her shoulder, then her face turned serious. “What’s going on? You’re hiding out here. I can tell.”
Johanna’s lips tightened and she turned away. “It’s nothing.” Nothing she was willing to talk
about at least.
Clara’s hand gently grasped Johanna’s arm and pulled, turning her sister-in-law to face her. “It’s something. Something important. You don’t hide out here often. The last time I remember finding you here was when Grandfather passed away.”
That wasn’t something Johanna wanted to remember. She fought the tears threatening to fall. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She tried to turn away again, but Clara moved with her, putting her short body directly in front of Johanna so she couldn’t be ignored.
Without any further sympathy, she grimaced, her will pushing out like a physical force. “Tell me.”
And so, haltingly, with many tears and sniffles, Johanna poured her heart out to Clara. Clara's lips tightened into thinner and thinner lines the longer Johanna spoke. Finally, Johanna was done and Clara erupted. “Are you kidding? What in the world is he thinking? Why would Father do that to you?” The small, dark haired girl paced back and forth between the plants, her anger thrusting her heels into the soil. “This is not acceptable. Not at all. You’ve got to tell him 'no,' Johanna. It’s that or you’ve got to leave. He can’t do this to you. I don’t care how much money he or this Edmund Berkeley has! It’s just not right!”
Johanna nodded. “I agree. But where would I go? What would I do? I don’t have any money without Father and have no family away from the hotel and hot springs. You know that.” Of course, at that very moment, a tent on the prairie sounded mighty appealing. She knew she wouldn't last long, though. She had no survival skills.
“There has to be some kind of a solution.” She chewed on a knuckle, then stopped, her eyes alight. “I have family in town, and more the next town over. You could stay with them. I know my mom or my brother would take you in.”
“No, I couldn’t do that,” Johanna began. She refused to be a charity case for anyone.
Clara cut her off. “What other choice do you have? Do you want to marry this Edmund Berkeley?”
Johanna snorted. “No. Definitely not.” Why would any woman want to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather?
“Then let’s send you away until your father comes to his senses. It’s the only logical answer.” Clara waited, seeming to stop breathing as she waited for Johanna’s answer.
Could she do it? Could Johanna actually rebel against her father and choose to live her own life? And if she did, what would be the repercussions? Did it matter?
In the end, there was only one answer. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
* * *
With hours to go before she could even attempt to leave with Clara, Johanna made her way to the one other place that always brought her solace: the stables.
Walking through the doors was like stepping back through time. She was again six years old, and Grandmother was introducing her to her first pony, Lilac. She smiled at the memory, then walked down to the stall of her most recent acquisition. A lovely mare, chestnut in color, called Amelia. Another gift from Grandmother on Johanna’s eighteenth birthday. The horse snuffled at Johanna’s hair, her soft lips nibbling and brushing across Johanna’s brow. It made her laugh, despite the heaviness in her heart. Amelia made it easy to forget.
“I’ll make a horsewoman out of you yet,” a strong feminine voice came from the stall behind her.
Johanna turned with a grin. “You did that long ago. Hello, Grandmother.” Johanna stepped across the straw-lined floor to hug her.
Ida Mae kissed Johanna’s cheek. “Hello, my dear. I haven’t seen you out here for a while. Is your father keeping you busy?” The old woman opened the door and stepped out of the stall.
Fighting a laugh at her grandmother’s choice of masculine-styled clothing in her trademark purple colors, she tried to remember the question, then grimaced and wished she hadn't let her feelings show. Unfortunately, Ida Mae caught the twist of her lips before Johanna could hide it.
Grandmother put her hands on her hips, and pressed her lips together. “What’s he done now?”
Johanna didn’t answer, for a moment uncertain if telling her grandmother the story would make her disloyal to her father.
In the end, she realized she could hide nothing from Grandmother. Johanna tried not to cry as she blurted out the story. “He’s tired of waiting for me to find a husband, so he arranged a marriage for me with one of his friends from New York City. An old one! He’s three times my age, and father thinks that’s okay. I won’t do it! I can’t!” And then the tears did come. Ida Mae took Johanna in her arms and comforted her, making shushing sounds and patting her back comfortingly. When Johanna got herself under control and pulled back, she saw that Grandmother’s purple gingham bonnet had come loose and hung behind her, her beautiful white hair a bit wild from its absence.
The fire came back in her eyes. “Of course you won’t do it. That’s ridiculous!” She took Johanna by the hand and pulled her toward the entry to the barn. “Come on. We’re going to talk to him about this. It’s not acceptable. Not at all.” Ida Mae’s grip was like stone.
Chapter Four
Benjamin stood watching Jesse, alias Edmund Berkeley, get a tongue lashing from his grandfather.
Margaret had told her father of Jesse's antics almost the instant they walked in the door, after which he'd been summoned and Benjamin left to wait just inside the door. He was surprised to be inside and not out, but since he was the one Jesse had wronged, it was Benjamin's guess that Mr. McDonough had let him stay to witness justice. In the Jarrett home, this kind of prank would have merited a whooping, but not here. Jesse was assigned lines to write, a proper apology, and mucking out the stalls for a week. Strange how different families handled their children.
Once Jesse had been escorted out by Margaret, Benjamin was left alone with Mr. McDonough. The older man looked him up and down before speaking. "So. You're here for work? A homesteader, I presume."
His hat back in his hands, he said, "Yes sir. On all counts." He was proud of the hard work he did as a homesteader, although he didn't expect someone of wealth like Mr. McDonough to understand that.
Mr. McDonough leaned back in his red leather chair and steepled his fingers. "Tell me about yourself."
Clearing his throat, Benjamin began. "Well, sir, I'm a bachelor. I have adjoining homesteads with my two brothers and parents, four in all, and can do just about anything you need of me. I cook, clean, am good with horses, gardening, people, and I'm strong. I can fix just about anything. The locusts took a lot of the crop last year, and since I'm the only one not married, I volunteered to get extra work to help the family."
"How noble of you," Mr. McDonough said with more than a touch of sarcasm.
Ignoring the barb, Benjamin continued. "Sir, I know we come from different places in life, but in this case that might be a good thing. I know you've got most of your family working here and don't have need of many outsiders, but I can help you. Where are you lacking the most? What's your biggest need? Just tell me and I'll find a way to help." He said a quick prayer while he waited that the man would be willing to accept him.
McDonough tapped his bottom lip with two fingers, then looked at Benjamin thoughtfully. "To be honest, the biggest challenge is with the inner garden. It feeds the guests, decorates the tables, and so much more. I've had the cooks and a maid looking after it, but they're too busy to do a good job, and some of the plants are dying. Other, we can't grow in a large enough quantity. And the locusts still find a way inside. How can you help me there?"
Benjamin fought a smile. "That is my specialty, sir. I am a farmer, after all, and we faced similar problems and found a solution, thanks to a friend of my father's. Have you heard of the new wire mesh coming out of Detroit? They call it screen." When his family had ordered the wire mesh, he'd been in charge of building an enclosure over a portion of the garden to keep the locusts out.
McDonough nodded slowly. "Heard of it, yes. Seen it, no."
An idea popped into Benjamin's head. "If I might be so bold, sir, why don't you ride out to our homestead and see
the inner garden that we built with wood and screen? I can do the same for you here, and you can also see my garden. I think you will be pleasantly surprised." And he'd love to show off his skill to the man. Not only to get the job, but he wanted to show him that he wasn't worthless as the man seemed to think he was.
"That's not something I normally do," the white haired gentleman said.
"I'm sure you don't, sir, but it seems a good way to prove my worth to you." Benjamin held his breath.
Nodding slowly, Mr. McDonough sat up. "I don't think I need to. Obviously, you know what you're doing. I'm going to let you do it. You're hired, Mr. Jarrett. Get with Margaret to set up pay and paperwork, then find Johanna, would you? She's the one who should be doing all of that. Once she's returned, speak to the kitchen staff and the head maid to discover their requirements for the garden. You may use one of the rooms when needed. Just speak to Margaret or Johanna."
Benjamin turned to go.
"And Mr. Jarrett," the older man said. Benjamin turned around. "Thank you."
Benjamin’s hand was on the door when it flew open, pushing him behind it and slamming him into the wall. A small grandmotherly type person pulled Johanna behind her and stormed into the office as if she owned the place, and didn’t care who was inside.
Benjamin thought it best to stay unnoticed with the anger flaring between the woman and his new boss. Mr. McDonough looked up, half rising from his seat. “Mother! What in the world—”
He never got any further than that. The woman didn’t stop in the doorway. She kept going until she reached his desk, let go of Johanna’s wrist, then put her hands on the wooden top and leaned forward. She raised one hand and pointed a finger inches from his face, quivering with obvious anger. “John, you are an absolute idiot!”
Johanna (Dakota Bound Book 1) Page 2
