Threads of Love

by Andrea Boeshaar

She didn’t reply until she reached the steps, leading up to the front doors. “For your information Andy Anderson is a good man, a hard worker. He rarely misses church service on Sunday mornings, and everyone likes him. Andy makes people laugh with his antics and impresses them with his daring. Once he climbed to the top of a partially constructed building downtown and took a photograph because Ira Lemke at the Chronicle was too afraid of heights, and yet he wanted the picture for his newspaper story.” A soft giggle bubbled out of her mouth. “I could go on and on all afternoon about Andy.”

  “No need.” Jake held up a hand. “I didn’t ask for a list of the man’s attributes, Em. I’m asking what you see in him—as a possible suitor or husband.”

  “Well . . . ” She had to think about it and that told Jake plenty. “Andy’s very kind—”

  “To whom?” Jake removed his hat. “Begging your pardon, Em, but I’d say Andy was extremely rude to you just now.”

  “He didn’t mean it.”

  “You sure? Maybe he’s trying to tell you that he doesn’t share your particular fondness.”

  “He doesn’t know I’m interested.”

  “Andy would have to be deaf, dumb, and completely blind not to see it.”

  “Is that so?” She tipped her head in just a way as to reveal the unsightly bruise on her cheek. It pained Jake something awful to see it. “And what makes you such an expert?”

  “I’m no expert, Em. I’ll admit it.”

  “Hmm . . . I rather thought so.” She began climbing the stairs, and Jake wondered if he imagined her sassy swagger.

  Regardless, he wouldn’t be deterred. “All I can say is that when Web was interested in my sister, she didn’t have to go out of her way to make him notice her.”

  Emily paused at the top of the steps long enough to send him a scathing glance.

  Jake shrugged. “Just trying to help.”

  “I think you’ve done just about enough, Deputy Edgerton. Thank you so very much.”

  “Is that sarcasm?” Jake did his best not to grin.

  In reply Emily swung open one of the two tall doors and disappeared inside the school.

  CHAPTER 5

  OHHH, THAT JAKE Edgerton makes me so mad!

  Even three hours later, after cleaning her classroom, Emily still couldn’t shake off her irritation. The lengthy walk from school to the riverfront didn’t help it abate either.

  Reaching Ramsey, Sundberg & Dunbar Shipping and Freight Company, Emily walked into its tidy greeting area and found her younger brother Zeb at the front desk.

  “May I help you, miss?” He feigned importance and his blue eyes danced with mischief.

  “Where’s Poppa?” Emily wasn’t in the mood for games.

  “In his office.” Zeb’s brows narrowed. “Something wrong?”

  “Never mind.” Emily strode toward the office.

  “Nice hat.”

  Emily heard her brother’s teasing tone. “Oh, quiet.” She adjusted it slightly.

  “Say, Em, do you remember Jake Edgerton? He’s in town and ate supper with us last night.”

  “Yes, I remember him.”

  Zeb chuckled. “I was just a kid about nine years old the summer he stayed with Mr. Ollie. All I recollect is following him and you and Eden everywhere—”

  “Like a puppy,” Emily put in.

  “Amazing to think that Jake’s a US marshal now.”

  “Deputy marshal.”

  “And he apprehended a fugitive. It’s in today’s paper.”

  “I know, Zeb. I know!” Emily knocked on her father’s office door a bit harder than intended.

  Moments later the knob turned and the door swung open. Poppa glanced at Emily, then Zeb. “What’s going on out here?”

  “Oh, Zeb just teased me, and I reacted poorly.” She pushed out a smile for his benefit and stared into his bearded face. “I stopped in to say hello.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad you did. Come in, darling.” He glanced at Zeb. “Mind the store and get those invoices logged.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  Immaculately dressed in cocoa-brown trousers and vest and a crisp, white dress shirt, Poppa arched a brow. The hue of his blue eyes turned to bluish ice. “Watch yourself, lad.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Poppa turned to Emily. His smile returned, and he closed the door. “You look lovely.” Stepping forward, he bent to kiss her cheek, then paused to examined her hat. “Why must you ladies wear such contraptions with all the frill and fuss?”

  He looked so annoyed that Emily giggled. “Oh, Poppa . . . ” She removed the hat pin that she’d woven through the tightly wound chignon at the back of her head. “It’s fashionable.”

  “Of course it is.” He snorted and placed a kiss on Emily’s cheek. “I’m glad you stopped for a quick visit. I hoped you would.” His gaze narrowed when he glimpsed the bruise on her face.

  “Jake said he talked to you yesterday.”

  “He did. I know the whole story.” Poppa gently cupped her face in his palm and tipped her head to one side. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not as much as the rest of me does.” Emily wrapped her fingers around his wrist and Poppa took her hand. “My muscles are stiff and sore.”

  “I’ll bet.” Poppa led her to the burgundy velvet-covered armchairs in the corner of his office. She sat down in one and he in the other. “You know, your mother is going to insist that you move home for the summer when she learns you were even mildly injured in yesterday’s incident.”

  “Yes.” Emily knew all too well how much Momma disliked all the comings and goings in town. She felt safer in the countryside where neighbors lived acres away and yet close enough if you needed them—or wanted to arrange clandestine meetings by the stream where kisses could be shared beneath the oak tree.

  The memory haunted Emily. Dropping her gaze, she willed it away and forced herself to concentrate on this present conversation. “I’m certain that I’ll find summer work.”

  “Hmm . . . ”

  When Poppa offered no further comment, Emily looked over at him.

  “Something’s troubling you. I can tell. You can’t fool your poppa.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Does it have to do with Jake Edgerton?”

  She couldn’t lie and replied with the tiniest of nods.

  “I thought so.” Poppa eased back in his chair. “But don’t hold a grudge because he didn’t answer your missives, darling. He admitted he received them, but his father was killed. Murdered. Then his mother killed herself.”

  “No! No, she didn’t!” The words were out before Emily could stop them.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Mr. Ollie said it was an accident.”

  “Ollie wasn’t there, my dear.” Poppa stroked his thick reddish-brown beard. “Regardless, I say all this only to ask you to forgive Jake for not returning your letters. He’s had a very difficult life.”

  “I don’t think Jake wants my pity. Moreover, shouldn’t he be the one asking for my forgiveness?”

  “Give him a chance, Emily.”

  Poppa’s blue eyes beseeched her in a way that made Emily’s stubbornness dissolve.

  “Oh, all right. For you.”

  “Good. I’m glad that’s settled.” Poppa clapped his palms together. “And now Zeb and I should head for home. Your mother and Besta won’t be pleased if we’re late for supper.”

  Standing, Emily tamped down a moan over her stiff muscles. She smoothed the folds of her dark blue skirt. “And I must return to the boardinghouse and get ready for the dance tonight.”

  “Ah, yes, the Memorial Day Dance.” Poppa’s grin showed through his beard. Clasping her elbow, he walked her to the office door. “I imagine all the boys at Maple Street Elementary School will stand in line for a dance with the pretty third grade teacher.”

  “Oh, Poppa, no one under nineteen is allowed in.” Emily paused to don her hat and pin it in place. Next she helped her father into his well-tailored, brown suit jacket. “And I hope
you’ll keep Zeb at home.”

  “He’s nineteen now.”

  She stifled a groan. Another family member with whom to contend.

  “Well, lucky for you, Zeb has hired on as one of my crew. We set sail at dawn’s first light.”

  “Where are you going and how long will you be gone?” Emily almost envied her brother.

  “We’re sailing to Milwaukee. It’ll be a short journey.” He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. “I’m anxious to get out on the water again. It’s been a long winter.”

  “I’ve heard Momma say the same thing.”

  “Oh?” Poppa arched a brow.

  Emily giggled at his reaction, and his features relaxed.

  “You and your teasing . . . ”

  Raising herself up on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Bye, Poppa. I will pray for good weather for your trip.”

  His features relaxed. “Thank you, my darling. Have fun tonight.”

  “I will.” Thoughts of dancing with Andy Anderson sparked a renewed hope inside of her. “Give Besta and Momma my love.”

  “Will do.”

  “See ya, Em,” Zeb said.

  Smiling, Emily waved good-bye to her brother and left the shipping and freight company.

  “I expect your aunt and uncle to contest the will.”

  “I figured as much.” Jake eased back in one of the two black leather chairs and watched G. M. Schulz pace the richly paneled office, lined with thick law volumes.

  “Well, let them bring the matter to the court of law.” The aging attorney rubbed his palms together. “I enjoy a lively, courtroom debate, should it come to that. However, I suspect the case will be thrown out.”

  “Normally, I’d agree to a settlement, but Aunt Bettina and Uncle Dwight are behaving like a pair of vultures.” Jake’s biceps and shoulders tensed just thinking about them. “They circled Granddad’s deathbed, hoping he’d tell them where he’d hidden his treasures.”

  “Despicable couple.” Mr. Schulz wagged his head. “No, no . . . then we won’t settle. Ollie was of sound mind when he wrote his will. Influential people will testify to that fact.” The attorney paused and peered at Jake from above his round spectacles. “Your grandfather would be sick to learn that you’re staying at the Dunbars’ Inn while Bettina and that conniving husband of hers live the high life in the home he loved.”

  Jake agreed. “But once Granddad passed, I couldn’t abide staying under the same roof with them. All they discussed was Granddad’s money, his possessions, his home, but never Granddad himself. They pushed off the funeral arrangements onto me, although it’s just as well.”

  “Probably so.” The older man with a shock of white hair and bony features ceased his pacing. “Ollie always felt like he’d somehow failed Bettina.”

  “I think she failed him when she ran off with that devil, Dwight Cleaver.”

  “Good point.” Mr. Schulz regarded him with a keen gaze. “How did they find out Ollie was dying?”

  “Aunt Bettina still has contacts in Manitowoc.”

  “Of course.” The older man resumed his pacing. “You’re a sharp man, Jake. I’d be glad to help you find employment, either here in this office or elsewhere.”

  “I’ve got a job, thanks.”

  “You wish to remain a deputy marshal forever?”

  “Not . . . forever.”

  Mr. Schulz stopped short. “You’re young enough to make a new start, Jake. Why not grab this chance to learn a new profession? Ollie’s money will sustain you through any additional or required education until you find your desired occupation. I’ll help you any way I can. Sometimes it’s not entirely what you know but who you know.” His crooked grin gleamed with harmless conspiracy.

  Jake was flattered and mulled it over, but not for long. “Look, Mr. Schulz, I sure appreciate the offer, but I—”

  “Ollie said you’re a praying man.”

  “I suppose I am.”

  “Then please pray about the matter.”

  Oh, fine! “If you insist.” But he knew the answer already. No!

  “Now, then, about Ollie’s home . . . ”

  “Just to be clear, I’ve got a home too. In Fallon, Montana.”

  Mr. Schulz snorted a laugh. “Consider your options, son. Wisconsin needs federal marshals and deputies too. Your grandfather and I have plenty of contacts. Why not get married and settle here in Manitowoc?”

  “Married?” Jake laughed. “Don’t tell me Granddad left me a woman in his will too.”

  “Of course not.” Mr. Schulz’s laughing eyes said he found the jest amusing as he pulled out his desk chair and sat down.

  “Any idea what you’ll do with your inheritance—if you don’t take me up on my offer?”

  Jake released a long, slow breath. “Reckon I’ll sell the house. I’ll give some money to Deidre and Web. The ranch could use some fixin’ up.” Jake couldn’t help a grin as he imagined his sister’s happy expression when she glimpsed the new stove he’d purchased for her. All set to ship on Wednesday. He sent Web a telegram, telling him to bring the wagon and another set of hands when he met Jake at Fallon’s platform next week. Here’s hoping Web could figure out how to get the new stove into the wagon, up to the ranch, and into Deidre’s kitchen.

  “You’re a generous man, Jake.”

  He replied with a little shrug. Deidre and Web were always there for him. With Granddad now gone, they were the only ones on earth who cared if he lived or died.

  “I’m concerned about your aunt and uncle’s presence.” Mr. Schulz sat back and steepled his fingers. “Perhaps we should ask the sheriff to remove them this very evening.”

  Jake waved a hand. “No, no, but I appreciate your offer. I don’t want any confrontations until after Granddad’s funeral.”

  “You’re a better man that I.” Mr. Schulz stood and resumed his pacing, his hands behind his back. For a moment he paused and pulled out his watch, glimpsed the time, and snapped the cover closed before returning the timepiece to his vest pocket. “You know, Ollie told me time and time again how impressed he was with you. He respected your desire to see justice served.”

  Jake gave a single nod. Granddad had said as much during each of his semi-annual trips he’d made to Fallon. Always bumped up Jake’s confidence a few notches and kept him going when lawlessness seemed to go unchecked.

  A smile flashed on Mr. Schulz’s narrow face. “And recently you protected the citizens of Manitowoc.”

  “Just a fluke.”

  “Or divine intervention.”

  “I’d agree with that.” Jake grinned. He always felt the Lord was on his side.

  “I should also mention that the year Ollie returned to Manitowoc after your mother died, he took a sabbatical from practicing law. He wanted time to think—to mourn.”

  Jake shifted, disliking the topic.

  “Ollie sent telegrams to Bettina, begging her to visit him. It seemed important for him to reconcile with the only daughter he had left. He even traveled to Chicago to visit her, but that husband of hers ended up swindling Ollie out of thousands.”

  “So she already got her inheritance.”

  “A good way to view it. Nevertheless, Ollie always held out hope for his younger daughter, but he knew better than to trust her and Dwight. That’s why he left nothing to them. In fact, after he became so ill that he couldn’t get out of bed, Ollie asked me to remove all his cufflinks, watches, and your grandmother’s fine jewelry.” Mr. Schulz leaned to his right and pulled open a desk drawer. He lifted out a brass lockbox and held it out to Jake. “Here, son, this is yours. You’ll also find the deed to the house, bank statements, and other important documents in there.”

  Jake grunted out a laugh. “Aunt Bettina and Uncle Dwight have been taking Granddad’s house apart looking for this lockbox. Bettina asked me about it, but I’d never seen it before.”

  “Ollie gave a box just like this to each of his daughters for their safe-keepings.” Mr. Schulz slid the key to the lockbox across the d
esk.

  “I don’t recall Ma having a box like this.”

  “She did—at least at one time. Ollie purchased them in India. Beautiful solid brass.”

  “Hmm . . . that explains why it’s so heavy.”

  Jake sized it up, taking a moment to appreciate the ornate cover, and guessed it measured a foot long, half of that wide, and the same six inches high. Carefully he opened the lid and gently rummaged through the box’s depth. Precious stones sparkled. Gold glittered. Later he’d take his time with each item. “Can I keep this locked up here?”

  “Certainly.”

  Jake found one of Granddad’s pocket watches and his throat tightened. Tears stung. Swallowing down the sudden onset of grief, Jake put the watch into his vest’s front pocket and fastened the gold chain.

  “Ollie would be proud to know you want to wear that, son.”

  “Something of Granddad can be with me wherever I go.”

  Mr. Schulz’s expression said he too was pleased by Jake’s decision.

  “Ollie fell into a kind of slump after your mother died, so Captain Sundberg began sending his children over to keep Ollie company.” He snorted a laugh. “That Emily used to bend his ear by asking all sorts of questions to which Ollie had to find the answers somewhere in his library of books. She played the piano and sang for him, and Eden and Zeb kept Ollie on his toes with their mischief and interest in his weapons collection. But Ollie enjoyed it. In the evenings Mrs. Sundberg often brought him meals, and I believe the older Mrs. Sundberg, Kristin, accompanied Ollie to several business dinners and community events.”

  That was news to Jake. “Were they . . . in love?”

  “I don’t believe so.” Mr. Schulz shook his head. “Good friends.”

  Jake still found it amusing. Emily’s grandmother and his grandfather, something of a couple.

  But why should that tickle him in any peculiar way?

  “The Sundbergs were good neighbors to Ollie and vice versa once he recovered from your mother’s death. I think it’d be fine if you chose a small token to give them in remembrance of Ollie.” Mr. Schulz sat back and lifted his hands as if surrendering. “But you’re not obligated. Just a suggestion.”

  “I’ll make sure they each get something special.”