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Destined for You

Page 3

by Tracie Peterson


  “It wouldn’t have to be that way. You have the means to keep that from being the case.”

  His father gave a low growl. “I won’t go back on my word. Your brother made a grave error in defying me.”

  “To marry the woman he loved? That hardly seems fair of you, Father. You have no tenderness for your own child.”

  Luke could see he’d riled his father. “He might have at least remained here so that I might oversee the child’s upbringing.”

  “So you could take the baby away from them, you mean? I remember the offer. You suggested that he might divorce his wife and return home with the baby so you could see it properly reared.”

  “There was nothing wrong with my offer.” Father waved his hand over the linen- and china-covered table. “Just look at what they might have had. I could have given Scott and the child everything. All would have been forgiven with one simple action.”

  “An action that would deny Scott happiness and refuse the woman he loved. It would have ripped a newborn from the bosom of its mother.” Luke shook his head. “I cannot approve. It was cruel.”

  “It was for the betterment of all. She was nothing more than a scullery maid! My sons could have married royalty. There were offers, as you well know.”

  Luke remembered a couple of rather homely daughters of a financially strapped duke—a relative to the queen of England. The duke needed to marry his daughters to money to save his estates and in return had assured Father that his sons would receive titles from Queen Victoria herself. Things like that were important to Luke’s father, a transplanted Englishman.

  “He could have had so much more,” Father muttered.

  Luke smiled. “But his heart chose Sally. I’ve never seen two people more in love. I would have thought you’d be happy for them, but instead you turned into a raving lunatic.”

  “Watch your tongue, boy.” His father shook his finger.

  “Or what? Will you disinherit me as well?” At one time Luke and his brother would have shared everything, but now his father planned to leave it all to Luke. Little did he know that Luke intended to split the inheritance with his brother anyway. It was the very least he could do. He fixed his father with a stern look. “I will not have you hold it over my head. Either leave me an inheritance or don’t, but I will not give up my relationship with Scott.”

  “I’ll hear nothing more of this. I regret that you must leave tomorrow for Duluth. I will look forward to your return.” Father refocused his attention on the food while Luke stared at him. How could he just forget Scott so easily?

  “You should probably know that I have no idea when that might be,” Luke responded. “It could be years. Mr. Cooke wants someone in place who can keep his affairs in order and out of the hands of the people he considers the enemy.”

  “Years? That’s ridiculous. He can hardly expect you to make a life there.”

  “But he does, and frankly it seems to be an exciting time for Duluth. They have few people presently, but more are moving in daily, and Mr. Cooke has even advertised incentives for folks to relocate. It’s the way railroad investors do business. People are needed to ensure settlement and growth.”

  Father shook his head. “There is plenty to invest in right here. I don’t know why he sees the need to send you off to the ends of the earth.”

  Luke laughed and speared the last piece of his roast. “I have no doubt you would gladly advise him on where he should or shouldn’t invest, but for now, I’m off to Minnesota.”

  Chapter 3

  That evening, with a soft rain falling, Gloriana listened to the men talk about their day as the two families shared supper.

  “I didn’t know for sure that we’d get that last pound net taken up, what with the storm moving in,” Papa declared. “I thought we might have to leave it for another day, but the worst of the weather went north, and while the water was rough, we managed it.”

  “And the fish were plentiful,” Scott added.

  Papa nodded. “They’re definitely starting to spawn.”

  “I’m just glad you’re home safe,” Sally said, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a fisherman’s wife.”

  Papa chuckled. “Every woman I know says that. It’s a trial for those at home to wait and watch, knowing they can’t do a thing to help. I remember one year a fierce storm came up, and ships were tossed about like toys. One of the ships was right off the shore—we could see the men fighting to get to safety as the ship was breaking apart. The lake was terrible, offerin’ no mercy. We did our best to render aid, but nothing worked, and within twenty feet of safety, those men perished.” He shook his head. “It has always kept me mindful of life’s uncertainties.”

  “That’s terrible,” Sally said, looking at the others. “Why could no one throw out a lifeline?”

  “The storm was too fierce,” Gloriana replied. She’d heard the story more than once. “They tried over and over, but just as they threw it out, the storm would spit it back at them. They even tried weighting the line and shooting it out.”

  “It’s true,” her father said, nodding. “Everything that could be done was done. Sometimes it’s just not enough.”

  “But to be there on shore and see those men die.” Sally shuddered. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it if that happened to Scott. I think I’d throw myself into the water as well.”

  “Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Gloriana declared.

  The younger woman had paled. She gripped her husband’s hand. “Maybe I should just go fishing with you, and then if anything happened, we’d be together.”

  Gloriana laughed. “Papa says having a woman on board a ship is bad luck. He’ll take a cat with him, but not a daughter.”

  Papa gave her a wink. “A cat is far less trouble than a daughter, even though there are those who think them just as much bad luck.”

  “Well, I know I don’t have any peace of mind until you walk through the door . . . smelly though you may be,” Sally said, looking at Scott.

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I have to confess, I love being on the lake. I never felt comfortable in a suit, working in my father’s bank. I could never figure out what was wrong. I thought maybe it was working with numbers, but now I know I need to be outside. I love the wind in my hair and the open water. I treasure it.”

  Gloriana had to smile. She’d heard her father say the same thing. He would always come home and tell her stories when she was little. For the first six years of her life, she had been an only child. She had loved being the center of her father’s attention and listened with captive imagination as he described his encounters on the lake.

  “Superior is a fickle woman,” he would tell her. “Fickle and jealous and given to pure meanness when she’s angry. But when she’s at peace with ya, there’s none more generous. ’Course, you can never trust her. You’ll never know for sure which way she’ll act until you’re out there.”

  Gloriana had heard this from her father all her life. Everyone in Duluth knew the truth of the Great Lakes. She looked at JT, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the meal.

  “Are you ill, little brother?” She reached over and felt his forehead under a tousle of curls.

  He shook his head. “May I be excused?” He looked at Gloriana, but it was his father who needed to answer.

  “You may,” Papa said with great tenderness in his voice. “Later, maybe we can have us a talk.”

  JT said nothing but scooted back from the table and jumped down from the chair. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Carson.”

  “Good evening, JT.”

  He left the room, and Gloriana turned to her father. “He was that way this morning and when he came home from school. He’s still very angry, and I can’t figure out why. I know he hates disappointing you.”

  “Maybe he misses the others,” Sally said. “Especially his mama.”

  There was dead silence for a moment, and Sally’s face reddened.

&
nbsp; “You know, Sally, you may be exactly right. I think of my own loss and deal with it as best I can, but that poor boy lost his mama and his brother and sister.” Papa looked thoughtful. “I need to be more considerate.”

  They finished supper with a blueberry crumble Sally had made. Everyone praised her for the delicious dessert, and she shared that it was her mother’s recipe and got a little teary.

  “I know you miss her very much.” Scott patted her hand. “Sally and her mother were very close, and it’s been nearly a year since she passed.”

  “The first year is always the hardest,” Gloriana declared.

  Papa nodded, but no one really wanted to discuss the matter, so the room went silent again. Finally, when they’d finished eating, Gloriana began to gather the dishes.

  “I have a few things I need to tend to before I head to bed,” Papa said.

  “So do we,” Scott replied, helping Sally to her feet. “Thanks again for a delicious meal. But please know we don’t always have to come over. If you want privacy, we would understand.”

  “There’s plenty of time for privacy,” Papa said. “Besides, I consider it part of your pay.”

  “Are you sure I can’t help you with the dishes?” Sally asked.

  “No. Just get home and rest. JT can come and dry if I need help.”

  “I’m grateful.” Sally looked at Papa and then Gloriana. “We never would have survived if not for your kindness and Scott’s brother, Luke.”

  After they’d gone, Gloriana hurried to finish up the dishes. She wanted to work on her knitting before they headed to bed. She was making thick cable sweaters for Papa and JT from a dark, unwashed wool yarn. Gloriana had gotten the idea from Mrs. Sedgwick, the pastor’s wife. The unwashed yarn made the sweater more waterproof and thus warmer for long days on the ship. They would make perfect Christmas presents.

  She glanced at the small table beside her chair, which held a picture of the entire family. It wasn’t very big, but everyone was there, and they looked so happy. She gazed at her mother and smiled. Mama had never been one for fancying herself up, but she had donned a lace collar and a cameo for the occasion. She looked quite ornate.

  Gloriana wiped a single tear from her eye. She missed Mama more than she could say but knew there was no sense in crying. If Papa saw her, he’d feel the need to cheer her up, and Gloriana didn’t want him to be distracted from his work. He worked so hard.

  An hour or so later, she heard her father coming in for the night. She could see he was weary and chilled to the bone.

  “Would you like me to heat some water for a bath?”

  He smiled but shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I cleaned up already. I’ll warm up once I get under a few blankets.”

  “Are you planning to go back to the islands for whitefish tomorrow?”

  “You betcha. The numbers are good and getting better. We’ll use the gill nets and probably get more than we need for the orders to Peterson’s and Jacoby’s. I’ll bring home plenty to smoke.” He yawned. “But there is something I need to tell you before I head to bed.” He took a seat in his favorite chair.

  Gloriana added more wood to the fire. “What is it, Papa?”

  “I just wanted you to know that I know you’re right about Jesus.” He yawned again and rubbed his eyes. “I know you worry about such things.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Her mother had tried all of Gloriana’s life to get her husband to accept the Christian faith as his own and take Jesus as his Lord and Savior.

  “Pastor Sedgwick came by tonight when I was tendin’ to my nets. He told me I reminded him of the disciple Peter, who was also a fisherman. Peter, I guess, was a hard case like me. He knew Jesus was Lord, but he had some difficulties with his faith.” Papa got to his feet. “I told Pastor Sedgwick that I knew Jesus was Lord but wasn’t sure I’d ever acknowledged Him as my Lord. We talked a bit more, and I confessed my heart to Pastor. I made sure I was right with God. I guess I just wanted you to know so you could stop worryin’ about what would happen to me if I met with trouble.”

  Gloriana forgot about her knitting and jumped to her feet. She encircled her father in a hug. “Oh, Papa, this makes me so happy. I can just imagine Mama dancing a jig in heaven.” She kissed his cheek and pulled back to see his face.

  His eyes were damp. “I know she’d be pleased, but I never wanted to do it for that reason. I knew it needed to be between me and God. I couldn’t accept the Lord just because she wanted me to.”

  “I know, Papa. Nor for me.”

  “No, but I felt His callin’ to me, and I came for myself . . . and for Him.” He gave her a smile. “Now I know what your mama was talkin’ about when she spoke of the peace of God. I feel it too.”

  Gloriana smiled. “Thank you for telling me, Papa. I will rest easy now, knowing you belong to Jesus.”

  “I always knew I would,” Papa told her. “I was just stubborn.”

  “Like JT.”

  He nodded. “That boy is the spittin’ image of me at that age.” He ran his hand through thick gray-blond curls. “Heart and soul and outward appearance. He’s got a tough road ahead, and no one knows that better than me. That’s why I’m tough on him. Hopin’ to save him some sufferin’.”

  Gloriana nodded. “I hope he’ll soften his heart and understand your love for him.”

  “In time he will, Glory. In time he will.”

  Theodore Sedgwick considered his choices. His life had been a waste in so many ways. There were times when he’d felt he had accomplished something good, but they were few and far between. And now, even after twelve years, he still hadn’t managed to do the one thing he wanted more than anything else. To see Luke Carson dead.

  “There’s still time,” he muttered, hoping that was true.

  He walked to the window of his small apartment. Glancing down at the street below, he saw a wiry older man hurrying down the sidewalk. It was about time he got there. Theodore moved quickly to open the door, even though he knew the man had three flights of stairs to climb before he’d arrive at Theo’s place.

  From his door, Theo could see the stairs, and when the man’s bowler hat came into view, Theo felt a wave of anticipation wash over him. He’d heard rumors, and now finally he’d have them confirmed.

  “Mr. Sedgwick,” the man said, pausing a moment to catch his breath. “I have that information you wanted.”

  “Don’t speak here in the hall. Come inside.” Theo yanked the man into the apartment, then closed the door.

  Panting, the older man pulled off his hat and nodded. “It’s all true. Mr. Carson is bound for St. Paul and then Duluth. He’s going to oversee everything in Duluth for Mr. Cooke.”

  Theo fished out the five dollars he’d promised the man. “What else do you know?”

  “There’s a position open that will allow you to work in close proximity to Mr. Carson. That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” Theo didn’t want to give himself away. “My family lives in Duluth, and I’ve always wanted to make my way back there to be close to them.” Half of that was a lie, but this man was none the wiser.

  “Well, I heard there are two positions needed in the office that Mr. Carson will have in Duluth. Personal secretary to him, and a clerk.”

  “And how am I to secure the position as personal secretary?”

  “I suppose you would have to interview for it,” the man replied.

  Theodore didn’t like the sound of that. It was always possible Carson might remember his name from twelve years earlier when Theo worked for the elder Carson’s bank.

  Theo’s funds were dwindling, but he knew this man could still prove useful. “If the right man could secure that position for me, I could make it worth his while.”

  The wiry fellow raised a brow. “I suppose a letter could be sent from Mr. Cooke assigning a particular man the position. For, say, the sum of twenty dollars?”

  Theo was incensed by this price. He pretended it didn’t bother
him, but he didn’t have much left of his savings, and losing twenty dollars would put a tremendous dent in the money he needed to get to Duluth.

  “Ten dollars, and no one needs to find out how helpful you’ve been to me.”

  The man grimaced, then nodded. “Ten it is. I’ll have a letter written up for you before morning. It shall be signed and delivered before six.”

  “See that it is,” Theo said, handing the man half of the money up front. “You’ll get the other half in the morning. Make sure you aren’t late.”

  The man smiled. “I’ll be on time, mark my word.” He left as quickly as he’d come.

  Theo stood by his open door a moment, contemplating what was about to happen. In the morning, after he got the letter, he’d make his way to St. Paul. Hopefully he could catch up with Lucas Carson there, at the offices for the Lake Superior and Mississippi Railroad. If not, Theo could always find him in Duluth.

  After a dozen years of keeping close watch on what Lucas Carson did and said, Theo finally felt he might have a chance to ruin the man. After all, Carson had ruined Theo’s life. His actions had brought about the end to both a lavish lifestyle and the life of the only friend and mentor Theo had ever had.

  Rafael Clarington had become a friend by chance when Theo had been hired to work for Martin Carson. Well, not exactly for him, but as a teller at his bank in Philadelphia. Theo had just graduated from college with the help of some friends who had managed to get him the answers for his final tests. Theo had paid a pretty penny for them, getting the money from his preacher father. Theo had told his father the money was needed for an increase in his rent, and his father, though skeptical because of the past, gave Theo the money he had carefully saved all his life.

  At his new bank job, Theo had met Rafael Clarington, who worked in the audit department. It wasn’t long before the two men were the best of friends, despite Clarington’s being much older. In time, they devised the perfect scheme to embezzle money. They never took much, lest it be noticed and someone called it to the attention of Mr. Carson. Clarington, it turned out, had quite a history of such shenanigans, as he called them. To the older man, it was nothing more than a game. No real harm was ever done, and he benefitted greatly.

 

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