The Engineered Engagement

by Erica Vetsch

  Grandfather looked ready to explode, his face growing red, his long, bony fingers gripping the arms of his chair hard enough to leave dents in the walnut.

  Eli shook his head. “He’s hornswoggled you, Mr. Zahn. Nothing on the lake will beat the Bethany when she’s done. Not for speed, capacity, or loading time.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” Fox leered. “You’re not the only one with new ideas in lumber shipping.” Gervase leaned over the table and plucked an apple from the fruit bowl in the center. He polished it against his lapel then sank his teeth into it like a wolf on a rabbit’s neck. “Why don’t you put your ship to the test? That would settle things nicely.”

  Eli shook his head, refusing any kind of a wager, sensing a trap.

  But Grandfather wasn’t so cautious. “You’re on. A race between your ship and the Bethany, winner gets the Zahn contract.” He waggled his bushy eyebrows at Zahn, who looked bemused and interested. “Say, the first weekend in November? First ship to get to Two Harbors, load up, and return to Duluth wins the contract?”

  The first weekend in November? They’d never be ready by then. Eli grabbed Grandfather’s shoulder, but the old man shook him off.

  “That all right with you, Zahn?” Fox checked, an eager gleam lighting his cold gray eyes.

  Radcliffe nodded. “That sounds fair.”

  “Then we’re agreed. But don’t be sorry when you don’t win. My ship’s the fastest on the lake.” Fox dug in his coat pocket for a fat cigar. He seemed to remember the ladies present, for he merely stuck it between his fingers and punctuated the air with it instead of lighting it.

  Grandfather reacted as if he’d been stung. “I’m so sure the Bethany will win, that if she doesn’t, you can have her.”

  Eli blinked, fear clawing up his spine. No. “Grandfather!” He swallowed, shocked at the old man’s rash declaration. “You can’t promise that.”

  “I can promise anything I want to. I’m still head of this family and head of Kennebrae Shipping.”

  Fox stuffed the cigar between his moist lips, a nasty smile climbing his face. “That’ll do just fine, Abraham. I know your word is good. After all, how many times have you told me that once a Kennebrae makes a promise, he keeps it, no matter what?” He turned on his heel and left the shelter.

  Unbearable pressure tightened around Eli’s lungs and brain. A little less than a month to have all the conversions made to the Bethany and have her seaworthy enough to beat Gervase Fox’s fastest ship.

  Josie slipped her hand into his, her eyes watching the departing figure. She seemed to sense the enormity of what had just happened. If the Bethany lost, the pride of the Kennebrae fleet would go to Fox. Fox would win what he couldn’t buy. Grandfather had fallen neatly into his trap.

  The afternoon passed, though Eli was barely conscious of anything beyond his own scrambled thoughts. The ride home to Kennebrae House seemed hours long. Eli blew out a long breath.

  Grandfather alternately fumed and fretted over the way Fox had suckered him into the race.

  “Well, can we do it?” Grandfather poked Eli in the side.

  “Now’s a fine time to be asking me that.”

  “Stop being facetious and answer my question.” His black eyes burned hot with a demand that Eli come through for him with the answer he wanted to hear.

  “I hope so. I’ll try.”

  “You’ll try? Don’t you understand the pressure we’re under?” As usual, Grandfather’s worry came out in a verbal assault against those around him. Eli was fed up to the back teeth.

  “Understand? You’re the one who doesn’t understand. You walked right into this buzz saw. And you’re dragging me with you. I’m the only one who really understands what you’ve done. And gambling! You know better. Kennebraes have never wagered before, especially not for something so stupid as a lumber contract. We may very well lose this ship and our reputation, and why? Because you couldn’t resist rising to Fox’s bait. He laid his trap, and wham! You jumped right into it.”

  The carriage driver slowed and looked back over his shoulder.

  Eli realized he was shouting. Shame licked his cheeks. He struggled with himself and modulated his voice. “I’m doing the best I can, and so are the men. The ship will be ready. How she’ll fare against Fox’s ship is anybody’s guess.”

  “That’s not good enough. We have to win.”

  Eli took a healthy grip on his temper. He could do nothing at the moment. But as soon as he got home, he’d get to work on a new schedule. Grandfather would have to turn loose more cash to pay the workers overtime.

  Thirteen

  Josie sat up and punched her pillow into a tighter wad. Her nightgown tangled about her knees, and she trod back the covers. The faint familiar blast of a steamship whistle traveled over the water from the harbor. Rolling to her side, she stared at the pale square of moonlight streaming through the window and tracking slowly across the floor.

  From the stairwell, the clock chimed twice. “Lord, why can’t I make my mind slow down? Seems the harder I try to get to sleep, the more awake I become.”

  Grandma Bess had told Josie once that being unable to sleep was a great opportunity to flex one’s prayer muscles and talk to God. “God never sleeps, and quite often if I’m wide awake at night, He’s got something He wants to say to me, or there’s something He’s waiting to hear me say.”

  Josie sat up, wrapped her arms around her updrawn legs, and put her chin on her knees. Her braid fell over her shoulder. “I’m in a muddle, Lord, though I guess You know that better than anyone.” Her engagement ring glittered in the faint starshine. “All my feelings are in a muddle, too. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what You want. I thought I wanted to marry Eli, but then he was engaged to Clarice. I tried so hard to kill my feelings for him, to focus on my mathematics. I thought You wanted me to pursue my studies and forget about Eli Kennebrae.”

  She sighed and slid out of bed to walk to the window. Drawing the curtain aside, she studied the gaudy diamond on her left hand. “This ring screams out everything that’s wrong with my engagement. I’m Eli’s second best. The next one in line. Any Zahn girl would do as far as my father is concerned. Am I wrong to want more? To want Eli to love me for myself? To love me the way I know I could love him?”

  A shaft of honesty drove through her mind. Could love Eli? She did love Eli. With everything in her. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. She stood at the window for a long time. Finally, after coming to terms with her feelings for Eli, peace filled her. She would go through with the marriage, and she would have enough love for both of them. Half a loaf was better than none, wasn’t it? And by marrying him, she would honor her parents.

  She twisted the ring on her finger. And she would stop despising this hunk of jewelry. It wasn’t her choice, but instead of thinking of how much she disliked it, she would think of the giver instead.

  Refreshed in mind, she decided to peruse the hatch cover drawings once more before trying to sleep. The original design had bothered her from the start. There had to be a better, more secure way to fasten the hatches.

  She lit her lamp and drew the blueprints from the bedside table. Careful not to step on the spot beside her desk that creaked, she dug in a bottom drawer and pulled out the parcel that had arrived for her from her tutor just that day. Those hatches had plagued her since she first saw Eli’s original design, and feeling uncertain of her abilities in this area, she’d written to Mr. Clement for his guidance. How she missed her bald-headed, bespectacled tutor and friend. If anyone could help her with the ship design, he could.

  She opened the package and took out two books and a note. Josie settled into bed and unfolded the paper, a wave of affection and loneliness sweeping over her as she read his familiar, perfect handwriting.

  My dear Josie,

  I’m very pleased you’ve found a way to apply all that knowledge you worked so hard to gain under my tutelage. None of my students here in Detroit matches you for intel
lect, and I find myself bored with them.

  Here are two books I thought might help you with the questions you posed regarding the hatch design. Maybe you should back up and consider it from another angle. If you still need help with it, I can pose the problem to the shipbuilders here, but you led me to believe the work was highly confidential.

  Which reminds me, I had an inquiry last week about you and the work you might be doing in Duluth. He refused to tell me for whom he worked, which made me suspicious. He seemed more interested in confirming that you were my student and that your abilities were more reliable than just what you are working on at the moment. I sent the fellow away with a flea in his ear. But if someone knows enough to be asking me about you, I’d be careful. The shipbuilding industry can be quite cutthroat.

  Sincerely,

  K. Clement

  Cutthroat. With the race looming ahead of her, with Eli’s reputation as a shipbuilder on the line, as well as the fate of the Bethany, cutthroat just about described things. And who would ask after her from her former tutor? Should she tell Geoffrey about it? Or was it Geoffrey himself, checking up on her work?

  She thrust those thoughts to the back of her mind and forced herself to concentrate. She paged through one of the books Mr. Clement had sent, scratched notes on a tablet, and chewed the end of her pencil. How could she improve this design to not only make it watertight—a must—but also ensure it would work with the cranes on the loading dock? Eli’s initial design would make it simple to remove the hatches to keep them out of the way for loading, but the hinges he’d designed for easy use wouldn’t hold against the strain of a severe storm. . .or even a moderate one.

  She set the first book aside and picked up the second. Railroad design? A paper marker jutted from the middle of the book, and she opened to that page. A diagram of the rod and pin design for coupling railroad cars. Similar to Eli’s design. She frowned. Why had Clement sent a book on railroads? She checked his note once more.

  Maybe you should back up and consider it from another angle.

  She flipped to the next page. Like a photographer’s flash the answer to the problem of how to safely seal the hatches scorched her mind. That was it! A knuckle coupler.

  Josie scribbled out a few notes, double-checked her calculations, and flopped back against the pillows. That was it. The idea would take a little polishing, but how simple. She’d have to write to Mr. Clement in the morning.

  Pride of accomplishment and happy anticipation of what Eli would say drew her from the bed. She twirled on the patterned rug, her nightgown flaring out, catching the moonlight. Her braid whipped around as she danced a jig.

  Then her face fell, her feet became still. She wouldn’t get to hear what Eli would say when he was presented with the solution to the last major obstacle to construction. Geoffrey would. Geoffrey would take her papers and ideas and present them to Eli as coming from Professor Josephson.

  Yet another barrier to her happiness. When she’d conceived the professor, she never imagined she would marry Eli. Now the secret stood between them like a seawall. Her decision to marry Eli would mean forever keeping the professor’s identity a secret. Forever hiding from her husband her mathematical abilities.

  With her feelings more jumbled than ever, she slid under the covers. She’d have to get word to Geoffrey as soon as possible.

  ❧

  Eli strode along the deep-carpeted hallway of the top floor of Kennebrae Shipping. He carried a folder of drawings and figures, tapping his thigh as he walked. The correspondence from Professor Josephson had started the day off right.

  A smile tugged at Eli’s lips, and his mind raced with all the things he needed to get done now that the final drawings were in his hand. The solution had turned out to be so simple he didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it himself. The oppression and desperation that weighed him down ever since Grandfather had argued with Fox at the picnic lifted like lake fog in a stiff breeze.

  He just needed to get through one more meeting with Grandfather, one more look at the budget for the modifications, one more discussion of plans and workforce and security. And for the first time in weeks, he didn’t dread the meeting. His goal was within reach. He would be able to look Grandfather in the eye, present him with the finished Bethany, and take his place with his brothers as an asset to Kennebrae Shipping. He would be needed and appreciated and a true Kennebrae.

  The conference room sat empty. Grandfather must be running late.

  Eli started toward his customary seat then stopped himself. No, this time he would sit where he could see the painting, look the titan in the eyes and smile. Maybe his own painting would hang somewhere in this room someday. And now that he had accomplished his goal, or nearly so, he felt he had earned his place.

  He spread his papers out on the table, organizing them into categories for discussion—financing, supplies, workers, timetables. If things went well, they could be through the particulars and Eli could be back down at the shipyard before lunch.

  The door opened and Grandfather wheeled in.

  Eli took in the paper-white skin, the slight tremble of the left hand. Concern gripped his heart. . .and dread. How much longer would Grandfather be with them?

  “Tell me you’ve made some progress.” The old man’s voice pierced the silence, as strong and commanding as ever.

  “Professor Josephson came through with the final plans for the hatch covers, and we should be able to manufacture and install them in less than two weeks.” Eli slid the drawings across the table.

  “Two weeks? The race is in two weeks!” Grandfather snatched up the papers. He scanned the pages, shuffling through them quickly. “You’ll have to move quicker than that. And have you met this professor yet? Are you sure you can trust him? Don’t underestimate Fox. He’s sneaky. He’d stoop to anything to win this race.”

  Eli bit back a sigh and forced his voice to sound cheerful. “No, Grandfather, I haven’t met the professor, and yes, I trust him. He hasn’t steered us wrong yet. And you may not like Fox, but be careful what you say about him. You don’t want a nasty slander lawsuit on your hands.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. Find out who this professor is. For all we know, he’s a spy for Fox. We can’t be too careful. He’ll do anything to win.”

  Eli refrained from telling Grandfather to stop telling him what to do. “Josephson doesn’t want any contact. He’s a recluse, I told you that. I thought you’d be happy with the progress, not picking and poking and looking for something to complain about.”

  Grandfather perused the rest of the papers, marking his initials against the spending chits.

  Eli breathed a sigh of relief when the papers were returned to the folder. He pushed back his chair and glanced up at the portrait, giving the painting a wink.

  “Don’t leave just yet.” Grandfather motioned him back to his seat. “I want your assurance you’ll track down this professor character and have him thoroughly checked out. Something about this situation isn’t ringing true. I have a bad feeling.”

  Eli stared at the folder before him. “I’m not saying the situation isn’t a bit odd, but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Josephson is saving my bacon with these drawings and calculations. Without his help, I never would’ve made it this far. And don’t forget, if you hadn’t been drawn into this ridiculous race, I wouldn’t be under such pressure to finish the ship in two weeks.”

  “I know it.” Grandfather shoved his chair back from the table and lifted his shaky hand to smooth his hair. “My temper and my tongue get the better of me from time to time. I should know better, but there it is. I jumped in, and I’ll move heaven and earth to win now.”

  Eli shook his head. “Fox knew just how to provoke you. But with these final plans, we’re almost home free.” He itched to leave, to get started on the last modifications.

  “You’ll think I’m a silly old man, getting us into this trouble. But I’ve never held back, never been afraid to leap first and figure out
the details later. And when I give my word, I keep it. I guess that’s why Zahn’s behavior galls me so. I know we never signed a formal contract with the marriage, but he led me to believe a union between our families would cement a union between our companies. I was more angry at his waffling in front of Fox than I was about Fox’s outrageous statements and horning in at the picnic. I thought I knew Zahn’s character better. I’m beginning to think forcing you into marriage with one of his girls might’ve been a mistake.”

  Eli gripped the arms of the chair, the brass studs marching down the leather making indentions in his fingers. “What about your promise to Grandmother? Your heart condition?” His mouth went dry.

  Grandfather shrugged and stared at the fireplace at the end of the room, not meeting Eli’s eyes. “Well, maybe I put it stronger than necessary. Your grandmother wanted you married to good girls, that’s true.”

  Eli’s arms trembled. “And what about your heart condition?”

  That infuriating shrug again. “I saw a specialist, and he said it might not be quite as serious as I led you to believe.”

  Eli shot out of his chair, knocking his folder of papers across the glossy surface in a fan of pages. “You mean to tell me you lied about dying?”

  “Not lied. . .exactly.” Grandfather made tamping down motions with his hands. “Just maybe exaggerated the seriousness of the situation. I knew nothing else would budge you. You looked like a man holding a governor’s pardon when you found out Clarice had eloped. I didn’t intend to give up so easy.”

  “Exaggerated.” Eli leaned close, bracing his hands on the table. “Do you or do you not have a heart ailment?”

  Grandfather glared at Eli. “That’s not important. What’s important is your winning this race.”

  Eli ground his teeth. “And did you or did you not promise Grandmother that you would find us all brides before you died?”