Threads of Faith Page 20

  “She sen’ many ’elegrams.” Again each syllable seemed an exertion.

  “I know. Mor told me. But I never received her messages.”

  Once more he wondered why the correspondences never arrived. Could it be George—or Eliza, even—concealed or destroyed them? But why would they?

  Shaking off the thought, Daniel began again. “I’ve been sailing to and from England the past few years. I’m part of a fleet that competes with other shipping companies. My vessel, the Allegiance, has almost beaten the record for fastest time across the Atlantic.” A swell of pride rose up inside of Daniel, except Poppa didn’t look impressed in the least.

  Not much had changed over the years.

  “Farm . . . ”

  “It’s gone. Mor sold it.” Perhaps Poppa needed reminding. “I’ve come to agree that she made the right decision. She and Agnes couldn’t keep up with all the work.”

  “Jeg er en fiasco.”

  “What? A failure? You?” Surprised to hear such words from his usually optimistic father, Daniel shook his head. “No, you are not a failure, Poppa. You’re sick. But I’ve got another doctor coming to look at you tomorrow. We’ll get you back on your feet and well again. You’ll see.”

  “Jeg ba. Jeg ba.”

  “I’m sure you did pray, Poppa.” Like it did any good.

  “Bad crop. Two years . . . no food . . . ” Poppa closed his eyes as if the admission caused him a great amount of pain.

  “Rest now, Poppa. It’s not your fault that the last couple of harvests weren’t good. You never wanted to farm in the first place. Remember? You wanted to be a politician. Bestefar said you would have been a good one too.” If Mor hadn’t insisted on having her way, he added silently.

  “No.” The tiniest of smiles tugged on one corner of Poppa’s mouth.

  “’olitics Bestefar’s dream. No’ mine.”

  Daniel brought his chin back. “Of course it was your dream. Before you married Mor.”

  “No. Jeg er en bonde—I am a farmer.”

  Daniel felt a little stunned. All his life he believed his father’s goal in life had been politics and that his mother had kept him from it. “Poppa, I used to sit at Bestefar Sundberg’s knee, and he would tell me about your trip to Madison shortly after Wisconsin became a state.”

  “Ja . . . ”

  “Bestefar said that when you came back you asked Mor to marry you, but she refused the first time.”

  “Ja, ja . . . ” A fondness entered in his eyes and played across his lips.

  “She wanted you to have a farm—a farm away from Brown County and your family.”

  “No!” Poppa’s chest filled and deflated rapidly. “Chief Oshkosh gave me . . . the land . . . our farm . . . a gift . . . for representing . . . his people.”

  “I’m aware of that.” Daniel had known that much. “But it was Mor’s idea for you to farm there just as her father, my namesake, did in Norway. And just as Bestefar Sundberg did too.” A short chuckle erupted. “Except Bestefar liked to trap and then trade his furs with the Indians.” Recollections of his bestemor, an Oneida and his grandfather’s second wife, and his uncle Jack and aunt Mary scampered across his mind. Would he see Aunt Mary before he left?

  “Jeg er en fiasco.”

  Daniel snapped from his reverie and peered at his father. “Stop it. You’re not a failure.”

  “As your poppa.” He wheezed as he drew in a breath. “Just one son. You. Just one chance . . . to raise you . . . admonition of the Lord. ”

  “And you did just that. I was admonished plenty of times over the years.” Daniel grinned at his attempt at some levity. “And look at me. Look at my life. I’m a successful self-made man. That’s at least in part to your credit, yes? You raised me the first fifteen years of my life.”

  “Self-made man.”

  “So?”

  Poppa seemed to struggle to inhale. “Not . . . not God-made.”

  Here we go again. Daniel tamped down his mounting impatience and focused on his growing concern for his father. “Let’s talk of something else. In fact, I’ll do the talking. I’ll tell you of one of my adventures on the high seas. This same rendition entertained Jed and Will Dunbar last night.” Daniel had to grin at the memory. He’d enjoyed the Dunbars’ company.

  “God author . . . finisher . . . faith.”

  “Don’t talk anymore, Poppa. It’s too taxing on you.”

  “God . . . finisher . . . ”

  “Look, I know religion is very important to you and Mor, but—”

  “Prayers . . . kept you safe . . . on the sea.”

  “So they did.” Daniel liked to think it was his own wisdom and skill that kept him alive, but he wouldn’t argue. He gave the stone in his palm a hard throw toward the street.

  “Jeg er en fiasco.” His gaze dropped on Daniel.

  “You are not a failure! Stop saying that. If you were a failure, I’d be a failure—and I’m not.” Unless you think I am because I didn’t take over the farm, didn’t follow in your footsteps, embrace your faith . . .

  Poppa clutched his chest then pulled at his shirt.

  “Are you in pain?” Daniel shot up from the stoop. “Poppa?”

  “Your momma . . . Agnes.” His voice was but a breathless rasp.

  “They’re fine. I’m taking care of them.” He cupped his father’s face, disliking how pale he appeared. Had this outing been too much for him?

  An instant later Poppa’s eyes drifted into the back in his head.

  Fear fell over Daniel like a shroud. “Poppa!”

  “And let’s depart, remembering what our Savior, Jesus Christ, taught us.” The minister’s gaze drifted over his congregation. He smiled. “With God all things are possible.”

  Julianna sat up a little straighter. All things are possible. Those words gave her that slender thread of hope she’d desperately longed for. Perhaps she’d become a fine, respected lady in time. With God all things are possible.

  Lifting his hands, the minister added a final prayer. “May the Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make His face to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace.” With that he closed his Bible and walked down the center aisle.

  After he went by, the congregation stood to leave also. From out of the corner of her eye Julianna saw Mark get to his feet, but she refused to meet his gaze. He was the last man she imagined who would be so vindictive. Then again, what had she expected? Mark was a man like all the rest.

  Except for Daniel.

  The din of voices filled the sanctuary as everyone greeted each other all at once while filing out of church. They paused at the doorway to shake the minister’s hand.

  Outside in the sunshine men shook hands and chuckled. Women used their fans to stir the hot and humid air while sharing tidbits of news.

  Mrs. Sundberg introduced Julianna to, first, the Rogers family. The slender couple each held a child while their eldest daughter, Marna, who was Agnes’s age, chased after additional younger siblings. Agnes joined in, and together they managed to get the youngsters corralled and hoisted into the Rogers’s wagon.

  Next Julianna met Mr. Belts from the newspaper. A bit on the gruff side, the bearded man seemed generally polite enough.

  Adeline and Will approached them with baby Jacob asleep in his father’s arms. It was Adeline who introduced Julianna to Miss Irma Dacy, a teacher at the grade school. As an amicable chat ensued, Julianna noticed Irma had eyes for Mark Dunbar. He’d walked over to talk with Will. All the while Julianna sensed Mark tried to get her attention, but she’d give none of it after how he’d shamed her in front of Mrs. Sundberg and Agnes. Besides, Julianna wasn’t a bit sorry for her behavior last night. All she wanted was to be close to Daniel, and now she had a few more memories to tuck inside the corner of her mind before she forged a future for herself—without him.

  The sun was high in the sky when at last she and the Sundbergs made their way back to the cozy ap
artment behind the shop. The heat of the day had become stifling, and while she had no idea of the temperature, Julianna didn’t think it ever got this hot in London.

  “I will go and check on your poppa,” Mrs. Sundberg said to Agnes as they stepped into the sitting room. The air felt cooler inside. “Then we will eat our noon dinner, for which we have Daniel to thank.” She sent a smile at Julianna.

  Daniel made an uncanny appearance at the doorway, leading to the hall. One glimpse of his dire expression and Julianna knew something was amiss.

  He blocked his mother’s entry.

  “Daniel?” She gave him an uncertain smile.

  He didn’t return the gesture, and the hard set of his jaw, the dark blue of his eyes, told Julianna all she needed to know before he ever spoke the words.

  “Poppa’s gone.”

  “What?” A nervous laugh burst from Mrs. Sundberg’s mouth. “Gone where?”

  Julianna put her fingertips over her lips. Sorrow squeezed her heart.

  Agnes ran across the room and hugged her mother around the waist.

  “Poppa is dead.” Daniel swallowed, as if grappling with a host of emotions. “I’m sorry, Mor.”

  While Agnes buried her head in her mother’s shoulder and began to cry, Mrs. Sundberg remained nonplussed.

  “How? When?”

  Daniel’s features softened. “He had another spell of . . . of apoplexy or something. He went very quickly. I was with him.”

  Mrs. Sundberg inhaled a sob. “He waited for you, Daniel.”

  “I might believe that except he told me I shouldn’t have come home.”

  Julianna saw the hurt in his eyes.

  “I think maybe he did not want you to see him this way. He wanted you to remember him as your strong poppa who could do anything. Still, he wanted to see your face one last time. We both prayed for your return. But I mostly sent the message to you because I–I needed you. I am the selfish one, just as you always said, Daniel.” She dissolved into tears and clutched Agnes’s shoulders. “And now my Sam is gone.”

  Daniel came forward and embraced them both. He looked over their bowed heads and met Julianna’s stare. She glimpsed the helplessness in his gaze and longed to wrap him in an embrace of her own.

  Pulling his gaze from hers, he peered at the top of his mother’s head. “I was wrong, Mor. You’re not selfish. I was disrespectful, and I’m sorry about it. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

  His tender admission caused Mrs. Sundberg to cry harder. She pushed past Daniel and ran to her bedroom.

  “Sam! Oh, Sam . . . ”

  Julianna choked, hearing the note of desperation in Mrs. Sundberg’s voice. Over the last two days she’d seen the love that the older couple felt for each other. A number of times she wished Daniel could have been there to witness it too. It was a pity he’d opted to sleep at the hotel.

  Agnes threw her arms about Daniel’s waist and sobbed into his chest while Julianna stood by not knowing what she could do. She felt like the dutiful housemaid at Mr. Tolbert’s, awaiting her next orders.

  Adeline and Will walked in just then. All Daniel had to do was give a little shake of his auburn head, and his sister somehow knew her father had passed.

  “Oh, no . . . Poppa!” She ran for the bedroom.

  Daniel sidestepped to get out of her way.

  Will held baby Jacob in one arm and slowly strode across the sitting room. “Sorry to hear the news.” He placed his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “But your father had a strong faith, so you can take comfort in knowing that he’s in heaven, where there’s no more pain and no more tears.”

  Heaven’s like that? Julianna thought it sounded like a wonderful place.

  “I appreciate the sentiments. Thank you.” Daniel forced a polite smile, but Agnes sounded inconsolable. She clung to Daniel, hiccupped, and cried some more. He held her tightly against him.

  Julianna knew just how it felt to be in Daniel’s embrace, although not in a sisterly way, of course. Nonetheless, she imagined Agnes would eventually find some solace in her big brother’s arms.

  At that moment Mark Dunbar entered the apartment. He removed his hat and glanced around the room. His gaze finally settled on Julianna.

  She rolled her eyes. The man had a poor sense of timing, that’s for sure.

  “It’s Mr. Sundberg,” Will said. “He’s gone.”

  “I’m so sorry . . . ” He looked at Daniel. “He was a good man.”

  Daniel merely nodded, and Julianna thought that Mark did indeed look sorry.

  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Would you, um, like me to fetch the undertaker?”

  “I’d be most appreciative,” Daniel said. “Thank you.”

  “Miss Wayland? Would you care to walk down the street with me? Mr. Paulsen’s funeral home isn’t far.”

  “I should say not!” She turned her back to him and folded her arms. At Daniel’s curious stare, she averted her gaze, but she caught Will and Mark exchanging glances. “Mrs. Sundberg might need me.” She hoped she sounded less abrupt.

  “Then I’ll be back.”

  Mark took his leave, and the weeping in the other room grew louder.

  Will threw a glance in that direction. “I had best see to Adeline.

  She sounds awful upset.”

  Daniel inclined his head. “Good idea.”

  Will walked across the sitting room and offered baby Jacob to Julianna. “Would you mind holding him?”

  “Not at all.” At least she’d have something to do now.

  She cradled the babe and smiled into his sleeping face. Then realization struck. Now that Daniel’s father was dead, there was no more reason for him to stay in Wisconsin. Dread, fear, and sorrow knotted in her chest. Another life awaited him, one of luxury and influence. Daniel would be leaving soon.

  And Julianna couldn’t fathom how she’d ever get along without him.

  CHAPTER 20

  J ULIANNA CLUTCHED THE sidebar when the covered buckboard carriage hit a particularly deep rut. “This is quite the bumpy road, isn’t it?” She’d been trying off and on to ignite a conversation and lighten the mood.

  No reply . . . again. Thank goodness the jangling of reins and the horses’ rhythmical steps over the dirt road muffled the silence. Still, the solemnness in the air matched the day’s high humidity, but what more could she do?

  She glanced over her shoulder into the backseat. Agnes slept, and Mrs. Sundberg stared out at the passing scenery. Next to Julianna Daniel sat rugged and stiff, reins in his hands. She felt the weight of his sorrow. For the last day and a half he’d been so quiet, barely saying a word to anyone. Julianna wanted to help in some way, but it wasn’t as if she could take his pain away. He had lost his beloved father, not that she knew anything about losing a father. But she’d had friends die over the years, people who had meant a great deal to her, like the Pigeon Lady. She’d had a story for everything.

  Mrs. Sundberg coughed as dust rose up from the road, and Julianna turned to be sure she was all right. She appeared to be. And, out of her family, she was the one handling things the best. Julianna had only seen the older woman weep that one time when she learned of her husband’s death. Ever since Mrs. Sundberg had been a pillar of strength. She had greeted the neighbors and close friends as they brought dishes of food to the door along with their condolences. Then, after the short memorial service yesterday, Mrs. Sundberg had stood in the receiving line with her shoulders square and her eyes dry. Adeline and Agnes, however, had wept on and off, and today Agnes was exhausted.

  Julianna’s shoulder bumped against Daniel’s, and she murmured an apology. But he didn’t answer. He just looked straight ahead as though he were lost somewhere deep inside himself.

  Shifting her gaze, she saw a barn, surrounded by a lush, green field. Then she spotted several black and white cows chewing lazily by a wooden fence. “I’ve never visited a farm before, much less spent a few days in the country.” Despite the sadness that filled the
jostling carriage, Julianna couldn’t help but feel a tad excited about this new adventure.

  Mr. Sundberg had requested that his remains be buried in his family’s cemetery, located on the farm in Green Bay to which they now traveled. Daniel’s grandparents and uncle had been buried there also.

  The road curved around a thicket of trees. Their leafy branches formed a lovely green canopy overhead.

  “Can you see the other buggies?”

  Julianna swiveled and saw Mrs. Sundberg crane her neck, while beside her Agnes stirred.

  Sitting taller, she caught sight of the backend of one of the carriages before the road looped around the other way. “Yes, they’re up ahead, not too far in front of us.” The older Dunbar couple and Mark rode in the first black buggy that led their caravan of three. Next came the vehicle carrying Will, Adeline, and baby Jacob, followed by the one in which Julianna and the Sundbergs sat. The hearse had left for Green Bay late yesterday afternoon. The interment would take place this afternoon. Everything needed to be done with some haste, due to the July heat. Julianna found it amazing that in spite of mourning, Daniel had seen to everything.

  Daniel slowed the carriage then turned onto a shady lane that took them up to a lovely white house. It seemed dwarfed by the vast countryside. He pulled off to the side and halted the team of horses near the barn. A barking dog welcomed them, along with several pecking chickens.

  He jumped down from the buggy, and Agnes awoke. Then he helped her, his mother, and Julianna alight.

  A willowy woman jogged from the house to meet them. When she spotted Mrs. Sundberg, she opened her arms.

  “Mary! Oh, Mary . . . ”

  Julianna saw Mrs. Sundberg’s chin quiver before the two women embraced. Adeline and Agnes stepped into the queue for hugs.

  “I’m so glad I visited last month.” Mary’s round eyes grew misty. “I got to spend time with my big brother.”

  The Dunbars sauntered over to say hello, and then Mrs. Sundberg introduced Julianna.