“Time’s a-wasting.” Jake glanced at the grandfather clock in the front hallway. Oh, how this man tested his last nerve! And apparently he sensed it too, because Dwight whirled around and followed Bettina up to the second floor.
Placing a foot on the lower step, Jake listened to the bickering that broke out between the couple. With a measure of sadness he noticed that neither asked to stay for Granddad’s funeral on Tuesday. He would have granted the request and put them up in a hotel somewhere—but not the Dunbars’. He wouldn’t wish his aunt and uncle on anyone he knew. However, the fact the pair didn’t ask to stay only proved again that they didn’t care about Granddad and that all they’d come to Manitowoc for was financial gain and not to say their last farewells.
“Jake, giving them the buggy, horses, and anything they want from the house? They deserve none of it!”
“True.” Jake paused in thought. “But God gave me His grace when I didn’t deserve it. He’s merciful, kind, patient, and generous.” Jake met the elderly man’s gaze. “I think Granddad would have wanted me to show my aunt and uncle the same as God showed me.”
“You’re right.” Mr. Schulz seemed properly chagrined. “Your actions are exemplary considering what you could have done—and legally, I might add. Ollie would be proud.” Some of his agitation returned. “Still . . . anything in the house?”
“I already have the lockbox with the most valuable items, the ones Granddad cherished.”
“What of the oil paintings?”
“To unscrew the frame from the plastered walls of even one of the more valuable works of art will take time. Dwight’s not that patient, and they’ve only got ten minutes.”
“Nine, according to my watch.”
Smiling at the quip, Jake kneaded his jaw. “Think you can write something up, stating my aunt and uncle agreed to my terms and have them sign it before they load anything into the buggy? Just for the record?”
“Of course, I can . . . and will.” Mr. Schulz made purposeful strides toward Granddad’s office.
Jake stood by the front entrance, waiting and wondering how he’d get this house cleaned up before the luncheon on Tuesday—even with Emily and Iris’s help. He spied an empty bottle of whiskey under a parlor chair. He didn’t want the ladies to see garbage like that. No telling what else they’d find. He’d have to do a preliminary sweep of house. Lord, the task seems daunting.
As Emily went about her business that afternoon, she fended off thoughts and images of Jake. His affable smile, enchanting gaze, the way he held her while they’d waltzed last night, and how he’d hummed in her ear. Just as easily she recalled his reciting of Scripture. He seemed like a fine man. And other than his tendency to flirt, a good and decent man.
Her best friend certainly thought so. And each time Iris gushed over Jake, Emily felt guiltier for having similar feelings for him. True, she told Iris everything, but she could never admit to this—they were both falling hopelessly for a man who had told them up front that he had no intentions of courting and marrying. What insanity!
Thankfully Jake also said he planned to leave Wednesday morning.
That night after her bath Emily donned a fresh cotton gown, brushed out her thick hair, then wound the top sections around pieces of fabric extras she’d collected and strategically cut into strips. When she reached the end, she tied it off. She repeated the steps until all the strips of material had been used. With her hair full of knots, she made her way down to the sitting room. She and her boardinghouse mates typically gathered on Saturday night to read and sew. No men were allowed into the house after eight, so there was no danger of being caught in her bedclothes with her hair in rags.
One step into the sitting room and Emily halted. There in the midst of all the shiny faces of her housemates, stood Iris, reenacting her dance last night with Jake.
“He’s such a gentleman.” Iris hugged herself, a dreamy look plastered across her face. “He held me at arm’s length.”
He’d held Emily close to his heart.
“When the music stopped, he quickly offered to get a glass of raspberry punch for me.”
When the music stopped, Jake hesitated to let me go.
Every set of pink lips in the room murmured, “Ooh . . . ”
Emily gave herself a mental smack and sank into the burgundy-colored settee. Beside it, on the end table, a crackle lamp glowed brightly despite its frosted white glass.
“And now, ladies, I will read you a story.” Iris held up the book in her hand. “It’s about love and daring in the Wild West.”
If nothing else, Iris made an exceptional actress. Little wonder her students adored her.
“I found this novel in a chest of drawers up in Granny’s attic. It’s called Glass Eye, the Great Shot of the West. It’s an old tale, but a good one about a woman who gets separated from her wagon train in the 1870s and is pursued by an Indian. But Glass Eye rescues her and they have adventures together while trying desperately to meet up with the wagons again.”
“Read on, Iris!” Carol glanced up from her mending and grinned. “My mother, God rest her soul, loved those story pages.”
“Yes, well . . . ” Iris cleared her voice. “I’m not sure Granny will approve, but I’ll read until we hear from her.” Iris glanced quickly at the arched entryway.
The other ladies sniggered, and Emily grinned. Lifting her knitting basket, Emily extracted the sweater she knitted. She’d originally intended to give it to Andy on his birthday in November. After last night’s Memorial Day Dance, however, those plans now changed. Emily clearly saw that Jake had been right about Andy’s behavior—and hers. Quite unladylike to go out of her way for a man who openly displayed his disinterest, perhaps even dislike.
Except now she needed to get her mind off Jake Edgerton.
She focused on her knitting, and as Iris began reading, Emily wondered if Tante Agnes would sell the sweater in her shop. Emily could undo the stitches across the shoulders so it fit a woman, and a bit of adornment on the front would sufficiently feminize the garment. The lovely and practical wrapper would surely keep a lady warm when the cold winds blew off Lake Michigan.
Emily wound the yarn around her forefinger and put her knitting needles together. They made a rhythmical click with each stitch. She’d selected a soft merino wool so the sweater wouldn’t be bulky. And the rich chestnut color—
Just like Jake Edgerton’s eyes.
CHAPTER 9
HE FIGURED HE still had about four hours of daylight left. Jake heaved another load of garbage onto the burn pile. It was the Lord’s day, true enough; however, Jake didn’t think God would mind him working this way, since it honored the memory of one of His own. It’d be embarrassing if Emily and Iris came to clean tomorrow and found such a sty.
Yesterday, after his aunt and uncle rode off in their new carriage, Jake had walked through Granddad’s house to assess any damages. With a sick heart, he saw they were numerous. Holes in the walls, as if someone searched in vain for a hidden safety deposit box; lampshades broken beyond repair. Food and booze spilled, causing the soles of Jake’s boots to stick on the floor.
Approaching horses alerted him. He turned toward the sound and watched as Captain Sundberg and Zeb rode up then dismounted.
“Need some help?”
Both men eyed the burn pile.
“Emily and Iris offered to clean tomorrow, so I was just trying to give them a head start.” Jake smiled and finger-combed his hair back off his perspiring forehead.
“Zeb and I spent the weekend on the lake and docked in Manitowoc this morning. We decided on an afternoon ride through the neighborhood.” The captain strode toward him. “We spotted the horses and wagon and thought we’d pay a call.”
“Kind of you. And I wish I could invite you in, but I’m afraid Granddad’s house isn’t presentable.”
“How’d that happen?” Zeb glanced at Jake, his blue eyes flashing. He only vaguely resembled Emily and Eden. Having dined with the Sundbergs
on Thursday night, Jake concluded Zeb inherited his mother’s finer features.
“My aunt and uncle made ill-mannered company.”
“Not surprising.” The captain clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Are they gone now?”
“Yes, sir. They weren’t interested in staying in town for Granddad’s funeral—but I expected as much.”
Before the captain could reply, another rider approached, and seconds later Emily appeared on horseback.
“You two are incorrigible.” She hurled an irritated glance at her father and brother. But when her gaze met Jake’s, her expression transformed with her sudden smile.
“Hi, Jake.”
“Hello, Em.”
She made a fetching sight in her riding habit on back of the bay mare with its dark-brown mane. She swung her leg over the saddle and easily jumped down. After an affectionate pat on her horse’s neck, she strode forward and addressed her father and brother again.
“That wasn’t nice, sending me off in another direction.”
“If you can’t keep up, Em . . . ” A teasing note sailed on Zeb’s tone.
“Oh, I can keep up—as long as I’m not sent on a wild goose chase!”
Lowering his head, Jake tried to hide his amusement. Em still rode with the boys. At least that much hadn’t changed in ten years.
“And I haven’t any idea where Iris is. It’ll probably take me all evening to find her.”
Zeb snorted a laugh.
The captain wore a crooked grin. “Don’t worry about Iris. She’ll turn up. She always does.”
Emily’s gaze returned to Jake, this time her features drawn in confusion. “What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the afternoon with the Schulzes.”
“I was—did.” Jake thought Em’s eyes rivaled a clear Montana sky. “I enjoyed a fine dinner, but then I kept remembering that a churchful of folks are coming to Granddad’s home after his service on Tuesday.”
“Don’t you remember that Iris and I said we’d clean for you tomorrow?”
“I remember. I was just doing the preliminary stuff is all.” Jake gave her a smile and she smiled back. Lord, she’s the prettiest young lady I know.
The captain cleared his throat, and Jake looked his way. “You can count on us to help too. Right, Zeb?”
“Right.” Earnestness shone in the younger man’s gaze.
“My wife and mother will, I’m sure, be happy to assist both Emily and Iris with cleaning.”
Emily nodded.
How could Jake refuse? “I accept your offers. Thank you.” Tension that he didn’t realize existed left his neck and shoulders.
“By the way. . . . ” The captain stroked his beard, his brows pressed in thought. “Are you still at the Dunbars’ hotel?”
“Yep, and I plan to stay until I leave Wednesday morning.” Why make any more mess in a house he planned to sell?
“This is all turning out quite well.” The captain strode back to where Emily and Zeb stood. “You can join us for supper tonight and then drive the girls back into town, which will save me a trip.
We’ll begin our work first thing tomorrow.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jake felt like a blessed man indeed.
Cries of distress severed the peacefulness of the evening. And then Iris came into view, riding her horse, legs flailing out of the stirrups and her thin body bouncing up and down in the saddle. Emily rushed to help her while Zeb and Captain Sundberg grinned.
“Just another Sunday afternoon ride with the girls.” Zeb sent Jake a sly smile.
Emily pitied Jake, having walked into a swarm of her family members. He met Tante Adeline and Uncle Will, who owned Dunbar Manufacturing. Uncle Will made sure that Jake heard all about his only son, Jacob, who attended college with Eden in New York City.
“We run a combined family business,” Uncle Will explained. “Jacob and Eden have big plans about expanding it.”
“That’s right.” Poppa beamed. “The boys are learning all the latest business strategies. I can’t wait to hear more of their ideas.”
Emily felt a sting of envy, until Iris whispered, “And they can thank a teacher for it.”
“How right you are.” Emily felt better. She and Iris shared a grin.
“I seem to recall meeting Jacob years ago.” Jake’s dark gaze slid Emily’s way.
She caught its curious light. “You did. There was often some confusion the summer you visited because of the similar names, my cousin Jacob and you, Jake.”
“Oh, that’s right.” He grinned and glanced at Poppa. “I believe Jacob helped Eden and me paint that addition.”
Poppa chuckled.
Emily didn’t remember any painting. She looked at Iris and shrugged.
Tante Agnes and Uncle Christopher entered the front hallway next.
“We heard there’s company.” Tante Agnes gave Jake a welcoming smile while Poppa made the next round of introductions.
“My sister Agnes and her husband Christopher Flagstedt.” He moved on down the line. “And these are my nephews, Kjæl and David, and my darling nieces, Kate and Hildi.”
“A pleasure to meet you all.”
Emily scrutinized Jake’s expression. He didn’t seem intimidated in the least.
“Is he the one who ran you over the other day, Em?” Kate stared up at Jake.
Emily’s cheeks warmed, although she dared not let it show. It would only encourage the outspoken thirteen-year-old. “It was an unfortunate accident.”
Her cousins, Kjæl and David, could barely contain their amusement.
Emily sent them a quelling stare.
Kate pressed the matter. “That shiner of yours really stood out when you were singing in choir this morning.”
Emily gulped in a rush of air and touched her cheek, realizing too late that she’d given the desired reaction.
“Kate Flagstedt, you apologize this minute!” Tante Agnes placed her hands on her round hips.
“Sorry.” It lacked sincerity.
The boys lost what little self-control they possessed and laughed. Kate’s face brightened, and she laughed too.
“What did Andy Anderson have to say about that bruise on your face?”
Emily gaped at the impudence.
“He didn’t say a single thing.” Iris stepped into the fray. She frequently rose to Emily’s defense. “Emily ignored him all night, and he deserved it.”
“Who asked you?”
“Hush now, Kate. You are behaving rudely in front of guests.” Bestamor put her arm around the girl and led her into the kitchen. “Come and help me finish preparing our supper.”
Smiling, Zeb gave the Flagstedt cousins a good-natured shove. “You two better behave or you’ll be doing the dishes.”
“You’d better listen too. Zeb speaks from experience.” Poppa grinned.
Emily sent Jake an apologetic shrug. She’d read somewhere that one could have no dignity in the circumference of family. How true it was.
Jake leaned her way. “That little bruise didn’t hardly show. I thought you looked real pretty this morning.”
“Thank you.” As always, his nearness affected her. The air around them seemed to grow thinner and Emily’s face more flushed by the moment. If this continued, her parents would think she had the influenza and Iris would suspect her traitorous heart.
“Don’t pay these scamps any mind, Deputy.” Momma stepped in and showed Jake to a comfy chair in the parlor.
“Yes, and I apologize for my daughter.” Tante Agnes sat down. Eight-year-old Hildi quietly leaned against her knees, but Emily didn’t miss the shy little smile her youngest cousin sent Jake.
“No need to apologize, Mrs. Wilson.” Jake added a charming grin to his reply. “The teasing didn’t offend me in the least.”
“Like my Emily when she was a girl,” Momma said, “my niece Kate is far too influenced by the men in her life.”
“Well, they’re good men anyway, Mrs. Sundberg.”
“Yes, I
suppose they are.” Momma strolled over to where Poppa stood and slipped her arm around his. The looks they exchanged warmed Emily’s heart. Even after all these years of marriage, Momma still missed Poppa when he went away on business. He missed her too, and their love for each other shone in their gazes. Someday Emily hoped to be so in love.
Inexplicably her gaze moved to Jake. Like every other man here, he’d removed his dress jacket some time ago. His long-sleeved, white shirt accentuated his sun-bronzed face and hands—hands that knew all about hard work. His black vest and coal-gray striped trousers were a classic style for men about town.
Jake’s eyes suddenly met hers. Emily blinked. He’d caught her staring. She quickly looked away, only to find Poppa’s gaze on her. He sent her one of those affectionate winks that made her smile.
Uncle Christopher cleared his throat. He always reminded Emily of a bear, albeit a tame one. Tall, with a head of black curls, and a brawny frame, he’d made shipbuilding his passion in life. “How’d your trip go, Daniel? Smooth sailing?”
“Yes, it went well.” Poppa sent a glance across the room and in Zeb’s direction. “What did you think, son?”
“I don’t think sailing is the job for me.”
“He’s just like I am, Daniel.” Momma laughed and leaned her head on Poppa’s shoulder. “I loathe sailing. I did it once when I came from London. Afterward I vowed to never set foot on a ship’s deck again. I haven’t either.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Poppa placed a quick kiss on top of her head. “You haven’t.”
“The minister gave a good message on deck this morning though.” Crossing his arms, Zeb leaned against the parlor door. “I’ll never forget it, hearing God’s Word preached while basking in the sun and feeling the wind blow and billow the sails overhead. An exhilarating experience, that’s for sure.”
Poppa grinned, and Emily caught the twinkle in his eyes when he looked at Momma. “I believe Zeb is more like his old man than you think, my dear.”
“You’ll have to work harder to change that, Julianna.” Tante Adeline swallowed a laugh.
Tante Agnes agreed.
Threads of Love Page 9
