Threads of Faith Read online

  Unlike Priscilla, the woman hired as her lady’s maid. Julianna sighed. Poor Priscilla was sorely lacking in the area of service, and she complained continually after their departure from New York’s busy station. But that the captain hired a lady’s maid to accompany her amazed Julianna once more, especially since his odd behavior in Mr. Ramsey’s study. She still didn’t know what to make of the incident.

  “Deep in thought, are you?”

  Julianna started and looked up to see Captain Sundberg.

  “Or are you still sleepy?”

  She smiled. “You were correct the first time.”

  “May I join you?”

  “Of course.” Why would he ask? Then, again, the captain was ever the gentleman. Even now, wearing his crisp ivory shirt and waistcoat and light brown dress coat, he appeared every bit the groomed and educated man, even when the other men around him appeared slightly bedraggled.

  Removing his hat, he sat down, hailed the serving gent, and then ordered a cup of coffee. Next he glanced around the eatery. “I see Priscilla and Tubs are nowhere to be found—as usual.”

  “I knocked on their door. The couple is just waking up.”

  “Hmm . . . well, I dislike it that you were sitting here by yourself.”

  “I didn’t sense any danger, Captain, and I can take care of meself.” She’d survived the twenty years before she’d met him.

  He leaned forward. “The word is myself, remember?” He spoke softly.

  “My apologies.”

  He smiled in a way that warmed Julianna’s insides better than a swallow of hot tea.

  “Since we’re both here, Captain, may I ask you a question?” In the passenger car he’d sat beside Mr. Tubs while she’d been pinned to Priscilla, whose oversized waistline and broad hips made it impossible to even squirm.

  “Of course.”

  “It’s about Mr. Ramsey. I’ve been wondering what I did to make him dislike me.”

  The captain shook his head. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it a moment longer. George has a lot on his mind.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Except things still didn’t sit right with Julianna. She’d made a million speculations in the last forty-eight hours but came to only one conclusion. Mr. Ramsey feared she’d somehow corrupt Captain Sundberg. However, Julianna knew the captain had his own plans. Besides, he was socially her superior.

  His coffee arrived, and the captain insisted they eat breakfast. Julianna made her choice from the menu, and the captain ordered the same thing. Afterward he requested a newspaper.

  Julianna had already noted he read quite a bit. Upon leaving New York, he’d given her the society page of daily news, and it had taken her an entire afternoon to look it over. She wasn’t a fast reader. Further slowing her process was Priscilla, who wanted to know each detail from Julianna, upon which she added her own editorials. Julianna had finally met a woman who talked more than she did. But at least the conversations passed the time.

  She chanced a look at the captain. “I overheard you and Mr. Ramsey making mention of your wedding plans. I’m sure that will be very exciting. Are you returning to England for your marriage?”

  The captain looked momentarily pensive before answering. “It’s a business arrangement, Julianna, nothing more.”

  “You don’t love her in the least bit?”

  He took a sip of coffee. “Perhaps love will come later.”

  “What if it doesn’t?”

  “Then we’ll be very rich,” he whispered, “and that’ll be enough for the both of us.”

  “Money can do that, hmm?” She supposed it explained a lot. She thought of the precious coins she’d hidden in her room at Mr. Tolbert’s home. Surely someone else had found them by now. She’d been saving for that little cottage somewhere—somewhere safe, where Flora wouldn’t have to sell herself and where drunken sailors were nonexistent.

  “You look troubled. What’s on your mind?”

  “Oh, nothing really. I’m just beginning to miss Flora. In fact . . . ” She ran her finger along a scar on the tabletop. “I’m worried about her.”

  The captain set down his cup. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

  Julianna frowned. She hoped so.

  More people entered the eatery, but Priscilla and her spouse weren’t among them. Bowls of porridge and plates containing slices of bread slathered with honey arrived. She and the captain began to eat.

  “Cook always made us say grace before we ate.”

  “Say it then, if it makes you feel better.”

  Julianna bowed her head and whispered a memorized prayer of thanks. She lifted her head. The captain had buried himself in his newspaper.

  Minutes passed. Finally the captain dabbed the sides of his mouth with his napkin. “If your lady’s maid and my valet aren’t here soon, they’ll miss breakfast.”

  “Odd for them to miss a meal.”

  “Especially since I’m paying the bill.” A sardonic smile curved his lips.

  In that regard Julianna thought it downright shameful that Priscilla and her spouse proved little assistance on this journey. Having been a maid herself, Julianna was, perhaps, more critical than most, although she fancied herself more gracious too. The fact was, Priscilla and her husband weren’t cut out for the service industry.

  “Little wonder they didn’t work out for George and Eliza’s neighbors,” the captain muttered.

  “I wish them better in Chicago.”

  He drained his cup of coffee, then waved to the serving gent and pointed to his cup.

  Julianna marveled at his confidence. In fact, she never tired of watching the man.

  He caught her gaze and smiled. “You’d best eat your breakfast. There’s no guarantee the boxed lunches on the train today will be acceptable, and supper in the dining car is hours away.”

  “All right.”

  The captain’s features relaxed. “Just think, this evening we’ll board a steamship, and we’ll be on the water again”—he widened his eyes for emphasis—“where it’s safe.” He shook his head, and Julianna glimpsed the way his auburn hair curled at his shirt’s collar. “I would have much preferred sailing through the Erie Canal and up around the Great Lakes.”

  “Why didn’t you get your way?”

  “I’m afraid George is enamored with the railroad. He wants to expand Ramsey Enterprises to perhaps include a large investment in the rail line that runs this express train.”

  “Ah . . . another business arrangement.” She sipped her tea. “Is that all men think about?”

  “Hardly.” The captain added an indiscernible little grin while his blue eyes searched her face. Then he went back to reading his newspaper.

  At the mention of Mr. Ramsey’s name and future ambitions, a knot of uncertainty grew inside of her. Would her new position on the Sundberg farm work out favorably for her? What if she didn’t enjoy working with animals?

  Swirling the spoon around her porridge, she looked askance at the captain. “Do you think that, perhaps, this wasn’t such a good idea?”

  Captain Sundberg’s gaze met hers. “In what way?”

  “Well, um . . . ” How did she say this without sounding ungrateful? “America is so very far away from England. Perhaps I won’t fit in here. Would you consider taking me back? I won’t be any trouble. I promise. Maybe your countess needs a maid.”

  “I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Julianna.” His blue eyes darkened, and she wasn’t sure if she’d angered him with her request.

  She sunk her gaze into her porridge.

  “But I understand how anxious you must feel. You’re in a strange new country where everyone speaks and behaves differently. You’ve left behind your sister, although it seems to me like she didn’t have your best interest at heart.”

  “But you obviously do.” She lifted her gaze and moistened her lips. “I still find it hard to believe that I’m here. I owe you my life.”

  “Nonsense. But let’s continue this conversation l
ater. This establishment is getting far too crowded for my comfort.”

  “Of course.” She hadn’t meant to get so personal in public.

  An older man in dark trousers and a white shirt with a black bowtie approached their table. By his uniform, Julianna guessed he worked at the hotel.

  “Are you Captain Sundberg?”

  He nodded. “I am.”

  “I have a message for you from Mr. and Mrs. Tubs.” He held out a small piece of paper.

  The captain opened it and quickly read its contents. “Fine, thank you. But make note that, as of now, the bill is to be put in Tubs’ name.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The man walked away, and Julianna’s gaze trailed him as far as the front desk. Then she gave the captain a curious glance.

  “Apparently the Tubses aren’t up to traveling today. But we’re not waiting for them. I would like to see my father before he passes into eternity.”

  “Do you believe in the hereafter?”

  The captain arched a brow. “Do you?”

  “I’m not sure. Do you?”

  He sighed, and a weary expression shadowed his rugged features. “Eat your breakfast. We have a train to board.”

  She bristled, feeling as though he spoke down to her just now. She leaned forward so as not to be overheard. “I’m not a child, Captain.”

  “Yes.” He opened his newspaper again. “I am very much aware of that fact, thank you.”

  Despite his occasional cynicism, traveling in the company of Captain Sundberg proved ever so much more pleasant than Priscilla’s companionship. He pointed out various articles of importance in the newspaper and explained more about the American culture. Women were rapidly becoming part of the workforce. They taught school and wrote books on various subjects, even if they weren’t aristocratic or wealthy. Women like Louisa May Alcott, who worked as a servant, a seamstress, and then a nurse during America’s Civil War. And Susan Brownell Anthony, who was well-known in New York circles for her work with the American Anti-Slavery Society during the war and, more recently, the women’s suffrage movement.

  Julianna became intrigued. Maybe now that she was in America, she could do something important with her life, like the women the captain mentioned.

  When evening arrived, Captain Sundberg escorted her to the dining car, where they ate a light supper. Afterward he requested a pen and piece of stationary.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning, about missing your sister. I rudely dismissed your concerns. I apologize.”

  “No need, but thank you.”

  “Well, we may not get another chance at privacy, and I thought perhaps you’d like to write to Flora and let her know you’re all right. I’ll post the letter when we arrive at the station tonight. There’s always a clerk on duty.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but me penmanship is lacking.” She quickly amended her statement. “My penmanship.” And with the methodical rocking of the train, Julianna was sure she wouldn’t accomplish anything except making herself look like a simpleton. She hated for the captain to watch her struggle with something he accomplished routinely.

  “Then allow me to be at your service. You can tell me what you’d like to say to Flora, and I’ll write it.”

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course. You know I’ll help you any way that I’m able. I sensed all day that you’re feeling a bit . . . homesick.” His lips thinned with momentary disdain. “I can’t imagine why.”

  “Life in London is all I’ve ever known. Working on a farm frightens me.”

  “You’ll do just fine.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The chores will be easy for you to learn, and you’ll get along with my mother and sisters very well.”

  She regarded him askance. “That doesn’t mean much, coming from a man who’s traveled the world. New places and people aren’t frightening for you.”

  “Not frightening. Exciting. And be assured that a far better life awaits you here in America than in London.”

  “You’ve been right about everything so far.” Julianna smiled. “I believe you, Captain. And . . . ” She paused, thinking back on Monday morning. “If I said something wrong last Monday I’m terribly sorry.”

  “It’s nothing like that, Julianna.”

  “Please know that I trust you completely. I don’t always understand you, but I trust you.”

  He didn’t answer but shifted in his cushioned leather seat beneath an opened window. The smoke, thank God, wasn’t blowing inside the car. Instead Julianna caught the sweetest of scents and glanced outside in time to see a field of blooming wildflowers. America was certainly a picturesque place.

  The writing supplies came, and the stationery boasted the railroad’s embossed initials. Flora would be impressed when she saw the missive. Why, she’d likely show everyone at the Mariner’s Pub, and they’d all know that Julianna resided in a better place.

  “Now be sure to write with large letters so it’s easy for me sister— I mean, my sister—to read.”

  “As you wish.”

  Julianna again was amazed that this commanding, highly regarded sea captain would deign to write a simple letter—and post it, no less. “Dearest Flora,” she began, “by some miracle I’ve arrived in America. It’s too long a story to write, but I’m alive and healthy. I’ll soon reside on a farm in Manitowoc, Wisconsin.”

  The captain hesitated. “Let’s refrain from giving her your exact location until we get my mother’s permission. Besides, you may decide you don’t want Flora in your life anymore. She’s part of the old one—the one you left behind.”

  Julianna wasn’t sure she concurred, but she saw the wisdom in his suggestion. “Once I’m settled, I’ll write more. The important thing is for you to know I’m safe and very much alive.” With her elbow on the table, Julianna set her chin in her hand and waited for the captain to catch up with her.

  He wrote quickly.

  “I’m accompanied by a brave, strong, and courageous man. He’s been very good to me. A true gentleman.”

  Captain Sundberg’s eyed her. “I’m not the only gentleman in the world, you know.” A frown wrinkled his brow. “Sometimes I’m not even a gentleman.”

  “Yes, I know.” Julianna recalled their kiss, and just the memory of it had a dizzying effect on her.

  He arched an eyebrow. “On with your letter, Miss Wayland.”

  “Very well.” She smiled, still finding her own quip just now rather amusing. “I hope this letter finds you well.” She paused. “Please sign it, ‘Your loving sister.’”

  The captain finished writing then passed the note to Julianna for her signature. She examined his neat penmanship. “Very legible. Posting it won’t be a lot of trouble for you, will it?” She tipped her head, amazed at the captain’s generosity. But, then again, that quality was part of why she loved him so.

  “No trouble at all.” His charming smile sent her heart racing. “If we discover posting it in Chicago is impossible, we can wait until we arrive in Manitowoc or . . . ” He chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I should just take it with me back to London and hire a messenger to deliver it to Flora. Probably speedier that way.”

  He was leaving. How quickly she’d forgotten—or wanted to forget. “How long will you stay in Wisconsin, Captain?”

  “A couple of weeks. And I believe we can do away with formalities in our private conversations. Call me Daniel.”

  “Daniel.” She smiled. “A noble name. It suits you.”

  “I’m sure I don’t do the name justice.”

  “Ah, but you do.” An indescribable sadness stole over her. “I just wish you weren’t leaving me so soon.”

  “Now, Julianna . . . ” He stretched his arm across the table and touched her wrist. “You’re going to be just fine. It’s not as if I’m dumping you off on the streets of Manitowoc. My family has always embraced guests, both expected and unexpected. You’ll
stay at the farm on which I grew up.”

  “The very one you ran away from at age fifteen.” She gave into the threatening pout.

  “I was a boy, longing for adventure.”

  “And you found it.”

  “Indeed.” He smiled.

  “But it cost you your real family, didn’t it?”

  “Julianna, please . . . ” He spoke her name so softly it tugged at her heartstrings.

  “I’ve gotten quite selfish, haven’t I? But you see, I can’t recall anyone caring about me welfare—my welfare—until that day Jeremy dragged me into your office.”

  He expelled an audible sigh and stared out the window. The sun seemed to follow their ramble westward. “Listen, I may as well tell you this because you’ll most likely find out anyway.” Daniel swung his gaze back to hers. “My mother is a stubborn, Norwegian woman who planned out my entire life without any regard to what I thought about it. She did the same to my father. He could have been a successful politician, if she hadn’t convinced him to farm.”

  “Your father said that?” How disrespectful!

  “No, Bestefar—my grandfather—told me the story. He was my father’s father. Bestefar is also the one who encouraged me to pursue my dreams in spite of my mother’s plans.”

  “What did your father say?”

  Daniel lifted one broad shoulder and pursed his bottom lip indifferently. “He defended Mor, of course.”

  “As well he should.”

  A sad smile played upon his lips. “Even when I visited seven years ago, Mor hadn’t changed her mind about what my future held. She was determined to keep me on that farm.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “She even said God told her that my destiny was a life in Wisconsin—in Manitowoc.”

  “Maybe she really heard from Him.”

  “I might have wondered if the Ramseys weren’t within earshot of Mor’s remark. George recognized it as being a manipulative ploy. He advised me never to return to Wisconsin, that if I did, Mor would ruin my future. I agreed. But then I received word that Poppa was ailing.” Daniel glanced out the window. “And, in spite of my disagreements with my mother, I feel it’s my duty to make sure she and my sisters are well taken care of if he dies.”