His plan was to bring the baby to Philadelphia as soon as possible and raise her in ease and luxury. She was his last connection to Scott, and although his son had been rebellious and had married against his will, Martin Carson was not going to allow it all to be for naught. Having a baby in the house would be rather interesting, and with the right people installed, Martin wouldn’t even need to know she was there unless he truly wanted to.
Thankfully, most of the house staff had been completely replaced in the last six months, and no one need know much about the child’s parentage. Of course, his intimate friends would know she was Scott’s daughter, but they needn’t dwell on a scullery maid being her mother. Besides, she wasn’t the first child of such a relationship, nor would she be the last.
There was the complication of winter in Minnesota. As he understood after checking into it, the harbor was now closed until March or early April. The rail lines had not been completed, and the work there was also ended until spring. Getting in or out of Duluth was not impossible, but it was extremely difficult, and no one with any sense would drag a small infant out across a wintery wilderness.
That meant waiting until at least April to bring the baby to Philadelphia. He supposed it was just as well. He would have someone come in and begin to refashion the nursery. It would give him time to check into qualified nurses.
“More coffee, sir?” the footman asked.
“Yes.” Martin waited until the cup was poured, then motioned to the table. “You may clear the rest. I’ll take my coffee to the library.”
“Very good, sir.”
Martin set his napkin aside and rose. He looked at the exquisite furnishings of the dining room. He had everything money could buy, and yet it rang hollow. He was alone. His only remaining son was off in the wilderness, doing the bidding of his boss, and the rest of his family was dead. Baby Sally would be his consolation.
He grimaced. They would have to change her name. Sally was far too common.
He strolled to the library, coffee in hand, and considered his entire lifetime of work. What had it been for? He was fifty-eight. He had a good reputation in banking and investments. People sought out his advice and wisdom, yet he had never felt so alone and unneeded in his life.
He had pushed Scott aside for his disobedience, and with that action, Martin knew he’d lost some of Luke’s respect as well. A part of him had been proud of his sons and their independent streaks, but another part had resented and regretted that they no longer needed him. He had been certain that cutting Scott off from wealth would bring him back around to obedience, but like his mother, Scott wasn’t impressed with the things money could buy. He had always had the heart of a poet.
The grand library with two floors of books welcomed him with a roaring fire and draperies pulled back to let in the winter sun. Martin loved this room more than any other in the house and often sought solace here. He had taught Luke about finance in this room. Had tried to teach Scott as well. Scott had always been cut of a different cloth, however. Where Luke thrived on book learning and loved numbers, Scott wanted to use his hands—digging in the dirt, building something with the gardener. He loved the vast outdoors and made more than one trip to wilderness areas to learn about living off the land. Martin had never understood him but supposed it was some influence from his mother’s side of the family.
Poor Marie. How he missed her. She had been such a good stepmother to Luke and the perfect mother for Scott. She had been a great wife, with her wisdom and grace and gentle wit. He had truly enjoyed his years with her. How hard it was to be alone again.
He’d considered remarrying. There were any number of widows in the city who vied for his attention, and yet Martin hadn’t met any particular one who struck his fancy. He sat down in front of the fire and sighed. A baby in the house would give him something to focus his energy on. He would see that she had everything. The best of furnishings and clothes, the finest tutors and trips. Oh, the trips they could take abroad.
Martin set his coffee on the table beside him and smiled. He would pen a letter immediately to Luke and let him know his decision regarding the baby. He rubbed his hands together. Finally, there was something worthwhile to consider.
Luke went over the house design with the man he’d hired. “I like this very much. I think it’s exactly what is needed.”
“It will fit the property well,” the builder agreed. “There’s another parcel of land that can also be purchased behind yours, if you’d like to consider that as well. I wasn’t sure how much land you wanted, but the price is reasonable.”
“Behind the property, you say?”
The builder nodded. “From that position on the hillside, you’ll have a glorious view of the lake. You could build a gazebo for picnics and a stable or servant’s house as well. If you purchase that land, all told you’d have five acres.”
“I like that idea very much. Get me all the particulars, and let’s see if we can’t get it for a reasonable price. Otherwise, let’s move ahead with these plans. I’d like to see the house built by summer.”
He looked once more at the drawing. There would be a grand porch to offer hours of respite shielded from sun and rain. There would be three floors with plenty of bedrooms. Luke thought of Gloriana and JT living there with him and Sally. Of course, they couldn’t live under the same roof, but Luke knew his growing feelings for Gloriana meant he was losing his heart.
He often considered telling her how he felt, but he was afraid it might make things awkward between them. He also felt it was too soon after losing her father. He didn’t want her to feel that she had to marry to save herself and her brother. Paying her for helping him with Sally, as well as keeping his laundry and preparing his meals, at least gave Gloriana a freedom that many women didn’t have. Here in the frontier, when women lost their husbands, their preservation demanded they remarry. It was doubly required when there were small children to consider. But Gloriana would have time to make up her mind about the future, and Luke hoped she would want him in it. There was Sally too. Gloriana was the only mother the baby had known, and it would be difficult for either one to be separated from the other. Still, Luke didn’t want to acquire a wife simply as a mother for his niece.
He had to force himself to slow down. He dismissed the builder and stood at the window of his office, watching the man navigate down the icy roadway.
It seemed as though Luke’s future had already been decided. He didn’t want to be presumptuous, but Gloriana suited him in a way he couldn’t explain. She was simple in her desires, content with her sewing and reading or playing with the baby. She had infinite patience for her little brother, who seemed to test her at every turn. JT was a strong-willed young man who needed a man in his life to help shape his course. Luke found the idea of being that caring older brother to JT a welcome one. It filled a void left by Scott. He loved JT—loved his big sister. How had that happened in such a short time?
He supposed tragedy had bonded them more quickly than a mere acquaintance might have, but frankly it seemed as though they had always known each other.
Luke took his seat at the desk again and wondered what Gloriana would think about the house he was building—the future he dreamed of in which they’d be a family. He thought of the long hours he’d spent in prayer regarding his future. No matter what he considered—returning to Philadelphia or staying in Duluth, continuing to work for Cooke or setting up business for himself—Gloriana was always in the middle of his thoughts.
“There is a packet for you from Mr. Cooke,” Theodore declared, coming into Luke’s office. He paused at the door. “The post office says it’s been en route since before Christmas, and here it is nearly February. Such is the way of life in Duluth. News doesn’t get here easily or without great difficulty at times.”
Luke chuckled. “I am well aware. I tried to send a telegram only to be told the temporary lines were down and unusable. We need that railroad to St. Paul, to be sure. Life will be so much easier
here when that is secured.”
“Indeed.” Theodore handed him the packet. “If you won’t need me for a while, I have those boxes of Northern Pacific correspondence to work through. I believe I can have it in order for you by early afternoon.”
“Go right ahead. I have enough to keep me occupied here, it would seem.” He had no idea what Jay Cooke had sent him, but it would require Luke’s immediate attention, no doubt. Especially since it had been floating around for some time.
Theodore left the room as Luke opened the packet. Inside he found a letter from Mr. Cooke describing the new manager for the Northern Pacific there in Minnesota. A man named Ira Spaulding had been chosen. He had been involved as an engineer in the war, making fortifications, building bridges and railroads, and basically doing whatever was necessary to give the army a clear way to victory. He was exactly what they needed to move the line ahead.
Mr. Cooke sounded pleased with the choice, but less pleased with Congress’s demands that building on the Northern Pacific take place from both ends of the system at the same time. The Territory of Washington, with its mountains and such, would be easier to manage than Minnesota with its tens of thousands of lakes and swampland. According to the reports, there was even quicksand to contend with, as well as what was being called “Minnesota black muck.” It made conditions such that you could neither swim nor boat it, nor walk atop it. It was simply impassable, and someone desperately needed to figure out what could be done.
The stagnant water also made for mosquito breeding habitats. Workers had learned from the native Indians that the only thing to use to combat the onslaught was bear grease, but the smell was so putrid that many refused it until desperation set in and they could no longer take the constant attack of biting flies and mosquitoes. Luke could understand the dilemma, although he’d come when colder weather had already set in. He had no idea what summer would bring.
Luke continued reading through the packet, learning of Mr. Cooke’s frustrations with Congress and their lack of interest in the northern line. The transcontinental railroad had just been completed, and that was surely enough to connect the nation for business and pleasure. They were shortsighted, Mr. Cooke told Luke. And because of their frustrating attitude, Mr. Cooke believed his best bet was to be very public with his railroad venture. With that in mind, he was going to send a large party of newspaper reporters, dignitaries, and other railroad enthusiasts to participate in a groundbreaking ceremony for the Minnesota side of the Northern Pacific. It would take place in February, and Mr. Cooke promised more news to come. He instructed Luke to do what he could to ensure rooms at Clark House Hotel, even though it was still being built. In fact, he pressed the importance of seeing that hotel complete, even if Luke had to personally hire more men for the job.
It would seem the entire world had erupted at once, and Jay Cooke was in charge of putting it back together. Luke would be very busy for the next few weeks.
“He’s perfect,” JT said, hugging the puppy close. The sable-and-brown dog licked JT’s face over and over, making the boy giggle. “I think he likes me.”
“It certainly looks that way,” Luke said, laughing.
Gloriana shook her head. “I hope you get him quickly trained to do his business outside,” she said, cleaning up the puppy’s latest mistake.
“It won’t take all that long, and once he’s trained and a bit bigger,” Luke declared, “you’ll be glad to have him standing guard over you.”
“Do you think he’ll be a good guard dog?” JT asked.
“The best.” Luke rubbed the dog’s nose. “See this blaze of white on his nose and forehead?”
JT nodded.
“I had a dog with those very same marks when I was a boy, and he turned out to be the fiercest of guard dogs.”
Gloriana gave him a skeptical look. “I have my doubts that that big-nosed ball of fur could ever be fierce. He might love something to death, but I doubt he’ll ever be mean.”
JT giggled as the dog continued to wiggle and lick his face. “I figured out a name for him.” He maneuvered the dog and held him up. “I think we should call him Calico Jack. Papa told me he was a pirate in the Caribbean Sea.”
“Calico Jack?” Gloriana tried the name on for size. “Seems kind of long. I suppose we could just call him Jack for short.”
The puppy yipped, and JT nodded. “He likes that.”
“Then Jack it is.” Luke scratched the pup behind the ears. “Now, it might be wise to take him to his doghouse. We don’t want him making another mess.”
“No, indeed, because you get to clean up all the rest of his messes.” Gloriana smiled at JT and Jack. It was good to see her brother so happy.
Chapter 15
With the harbor closed down for the winter, Gloriana missed her father more than ever. Winter layup had always been a time for making repairs and working on the boat, but it also meant Papa was home every evening. When she was a little girl, Papa and his friends would sometimes sit around the house, plotting and planning while Mama supplied hot coffee and baked goods. Often a bottle of something would make the rounds and get added to the coffee, but the men were never drunk nor out of control. Not in the Womack house.
Gloriana had never known a single one of her father’s friends or crew to be anything but gracious and polite to her mother and herself. They might tease her on occasion—tease them both about their looks or kindness. One of her father’s dearest friends, Sam Jorgenson, used to ask Gloriana to put her little finger in his coffee to make it sweeter. She used to do it too and laugh with delight. Of course, she’d only been a child then, and the world seemed as if it would go on in perfect order forever.
But then Sam had been lost at sea when his ship had been caught in a storm. It was the first time she’d seen her father cry. Over the years, others were lost, and now Papa was among their numbers. The loss bonded the tiny town of Duluth, as it did most fishing or shipping towns. They needed the lake and couldn’t walk away from it, even if it cost them their lives.
A thought that had been nagging at her for weeks rose yet again. Maybe most of the people here had no choice in staying, but Gloriana and JT weren’t bound by the lake anymore. They could pack up and go anytime. It would mean leaving her mother’s and siblings’ graves, the house Papa had built them, and all their friends. But it also meant leaving that cursed lake.
The wind began to howl outside as if agreeing with her line of thinking. Storms were a part of life here on the lake. She ought to be used to them. But every new gale brought trepidation. This time of year, at least, the men were off the water, but it was still daunting. Threatening. A reminder to all of them that they had little control over their destiny.
She went to the window and pulled back the heavy curtain. The lake was gray, frozen, and icy. The gunmetal-gray skies were heavy with clouds, and it had begun to snow. No doubt there was a blizzard coming on. She hoped it might wait until JT got home from school. She hated to think of him walking home in such a storm, and yet she remembered her father instructing her not to smother the boy with her worries.
“He’s a boy, Gloriana, and as such he will one day be a man. You cannot overprotect him from life. I won’t allow for it. Let him explore, let him dare great things. He will get hurt, but he will learn from his mistakes. He’s a good boy and he’ll practice a certain amount of caution, but not if he feels he needs to prove to you that he’s able to go beyond what you believe.”
Gloriana always tried to keep that in mind in dealing with JT. That was why she didn’t scold when he came in late from school. Still, a boy needed guidance as well as trust. She needed him to understand the dangers, since his mother and father weren’t there to do it. He needed to know about blizzards and how easily a person could lose their way. He needed to know when the temperature dropped below freezing how quickly a person could be in danger from the cold.
She let the drapery drop back into place. How could she ever manage to be both mother and father to the boy?
She had no understanding or experience of how to make a man out of a child.
The door opened, and the icy wind blew it back so hard that the entire house seemed to shake as it slammed against the wall. JT struggled to take hold of it, balancing Jack in one arm and his books in the other. It took both Gloriana and JT to get the door closed again.
“You’re home early,” she said, trying not to sound overly concerned.
“Teacher let us go. Said this storm was going to be a bad one. We might not even have school on Monday. Wouldn’t that be great?” His expression was filled with pleasure. “I brought Jack inside because it might get too bad to get out to his doghouse later.” He managed to put his books on the table despite the wiggly puppy almost squirming out of his arms.
“Well, put some newspapers down for him by the door.” Gloriana pointed to the stack she’d started saving. “He seems to understand what they’re for, at least.”
“He’s really smart.” JT continued to hold the puppy while getting a handful of newspapers. He finally set Jack down in order to spread the protection over the floor. He grabbed Jack and put him on the papers. “Remember, you can use these, not the floor.”
The puppy yipped and yipped, then shot across the room toward the fireplace.
Melting snowflakes left water droplets on JT’s curls, and Gloriana worried about him catching cold. “Why don’t you give me your coat and hat? I’ll hang them up for you, and you can get warm by the fire with Jack. Would you like some hot milk?”
“No, I want to try coffee. Charley drinks coffee. He said his parents always let him have it in the morning. Can I try it?”
Gloriana thought for a moment. Here was one of those times when she was uncertain what her mother might have done. Frankly, she didn’t think JT would like coffee, and maybe that was her answer. Let him try it and decide for himself.
“All right,” she said, nodding. “I think there’s some left. I’ll warm it up and put some sugar in it for you.”
Destined for You Page 15
