A Bride for the Daring Carpenter (Preview)

Prologue

Josephine Anderson, known to her friends and family as just “Josie”, slapped the reins a little harder. She grinned at her sister, Hattie, who was already holding onto her hat and gripping the bar next to her in an effort to keep herself from bouncing on the hard wooden bench seat.

The buggy wasn’t going very fast, really. Josie wouldn’t even be driving them at this pace if Hattie hadn’t dared her to do it. When she and her sister went to visit their aunt and uncle in Georgetown, Josie enjoyed admiring the scenery and the quiet countryside they passed through to get there.

Today, Hattie had felt playful. They had already passed the stretch of the road where cows in the pastures flanked them on both sides. Normally, they would take the few minutes as they went by to pass them and during that time, she and Hattie would moo at the animals and see how many would respond. There was no time for that today. Hattie wanted to go fast.

At eighteen, Josie was two years older than her sister at eighteen. Hattie’s hair was dark blonde, while Josie’s was chestnut brown. Josie was tall, like their father, reaching 5’7 before she stopped. She was taller than most of her classmates when she was in school. Hattie wasn’t short but she was average at 5’4. The one thing that gave them away as sisters was their eyes. They were the same shape and chocolate brown color as their father’s.

Josie felt very protective of her younger sister and normally would never have raced the buggy like this with her in tow. But her sister screamed in delight, her blonde curls whipping around her face, and Josie urged the horses faster. Since the boys in their hometown of Southampton, NY had banned her from the races they organized, Hattie was the only one who knew about Josie’s hobby. Her hands clenched tighter around the reins. She could still see their smug faces when she’d finally gotten the nerve to put her name in for an official race.

“You’re just a girl,” they smirked. “And besides, which one of us is gonna tell your dad when you wind up dead?”

Hattie’s shrill voice called her back to reality. “Be careful!”

“Let’s go!” Josie cried, laughing. She could see for at least a half mile or more. The road was straight and long, cutting a mountain in half in the distance, the road going straight through it. She would only go another half mile and then she’d slow the horses to a normal pace.

“This is fun, Josie!” Hattie said with a laugh.

Josie looked over at her, grinning wide. She leaned to put her arm around her sister and give her a hug. Their last half mile at speed done, Josie pulled back on the reins to slow the horses.

“Okay, gotta slow them down now. We can’t let it get out of control. And if you try this when I’m not with you, just make sure you’re on a straight road. Curves can be very dangerous because this buggy can only turn so fast without tipping.” She looked over at Hattie, who was still holding her hat even though they weren’t driving as fast anymore. Hattie nodded.

“Okay. I don’t think I will, though. It’s scary.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Josie felt bad.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Hattie gave her a new smile and Josie smiled back.

Out of the blue, she heard the loud snap of wood breaking, the sound bursting through the air and into her heart like a dagger. She put one arm around Hattie to keep her in the buggy. It tilted sharply to the right, the side Hattie was sitting on. Her eyes grew wide. Terror filled her as undesired motion pulled Hattie from her grasp.

The right side of the buggy slammed into the ground. The horses, though they were slowing their pace, didn’t seem to realize what was happening and kept going. Josie jerked on the reins, yelling “Whoa! Whoa!”

Hattie was there one moment and gone the next. Josie shrieked, jumping to her feet and propelling herself off the buggy while it was still in motion. She’d timed it just right, coming down on both feet and balancing with one hand. She didn’t hesitate, running back to where she’d seen Hattie was launched from the buggy.

Glancing over her shoulder as the buggy was pulled even further, she saw the wheel on the passenger side had snapped and broken. The horses finally came to a stop twenty feet away and pawed anxiously at the ground.

Swinging her eyes back to what was ahead of her, Josie spotted Hattie lying in the grass, face down. She wasn’t moving.

“Hattie!!” Josie screamed, on her feet and running. She slid to her knees next to Hattie, grabbing her shoulders and turning her over.

“No, no,” she murmured, her heart breaking. She pulled her sister, whose eyes were closed to her close and hugged her limp body. Maybe she wasn’t gone. Maybe she just needed a doctor.

But Hattie was still.

The heavy hand of guilt wrapped around her heart.

“Hattie,” she whispered, pulling her sister onto her lap. She leaned over and began to rock, weeping, her tears soaking Hattie’s hair.

Chapter One

Peter Frederick paced back and forth in front of his father’s office door, running his hand through his black hair. He was about to go in and have a confrontation with the man. He didn’t like doing it but he felt it was necessary. For the last fifteen years, his father had taught him how to do many things: how to talk business, how to be successful, how to manage employees, how to show compassion when it wasis needed and firmness when it was called for.

He’d even given Peter the opportunity to review the performance of an employee and give feedback whether the man was redeemable or would never amount to much and was therefore a drag on the company.

Peter had enjoyed that task. He had the mind of a businessman, just like his father. He absorbed information and made wise decisions for a man of twenty. He was tall at 6’2, with broad shoulders and a prominent jawline. He didn’t resemble his father, but it did seem like their personalities and moral standards were much the same.

That was why his father had made him an executive on the board of his company, which was involved in trades with other countries. Mostly fabric and household goods. Their most recent acquisition was a contract through the government to help acquire steel for the construction of railroads. Peter had never seen his father as pleased as he was when he got the news they’d won the contract. He’d told his son they would be drowning in money.the money that brought in.

So far, that wasstatement had proven to be true. Peter and his parents lived in a huge house with six bedrooms and the biggest parlor, sitting room, and library he’d ever seen.

Peter could hear his father talking in the room. He had someone with him. It was Arthur Bird from the bank. They were discussing money issues and Peter knew exactly what it was about. He wanted to open a carpentry shop in town. He’d first gone to Bird for a bank loan but the man said he wanted to talk to Peter’s father and get his opinion on it.

Peter didn’t need to get his father’s opinion. He already knew what it was. He didn’t want Peter to become a carpenter, though Peter had mentioned his love for the trade when he discovered his skill working with wood. It was something he’d come to enjoy in his free time. As an adult, it had become a career goal for him.

It was because he didn’t want his son to leave the family business. He’d built up a small empire and he expected Peter to be on board, to continue the legacy. He wanted Peter to get married and have children and live in their big house for the rest of his life.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?”

His mother’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. He spun around to look at her. She had such a peaceful presence about her. It helped calm Peter’s nerves whenever she was around, this time being the same as always. He immediately felt his shoulders relax. His heartbeat slowed just a bit and he felt less anxious.

“I asked Mr. Bird at the bank for a loan so I can start a carpentry shop in town and he said he wanted to talk to Pa first.”

The skeptical look on his mother’s face told Peter she, too, doubted it would happen.

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“I didn’t say anything,” his mother responded, tilting her head just slightly.

“You didn’t have to. I can tell by the look on your face how you feel. You know he’s not going to give me the go-ahead. I wish he would just let me do what I want to do.”

His mother took a step closer and put her hand on his arm. “He loves you, son. He just wants what’s best for you.”

Peter nodded. “I know that. But I don’t see why I can’t have a carpentry shop and do business with him, too. I could calculate the ledgers in my sleep.”

“He doesn’t want you to be overburdened.” She squeezed his arm. Her words were spoken with love. He pulled his lips back and pinched them together.

“I just want to be left to do what makes me happy. I’ve always been interested in carpentry, Ma, you know that.”

“And you’re good at it, too,” she responded, nodding in approval. “For your sake, son, I hope he does let you take out the loan. I know you’d be a success. But if not now, you still have a lot of time ahead of you for that.”

Peter deeply appreciated his mother’s compassion. It made him think of how compassionate his father had always been.

His first memory was when he was five years old. He’d come into his father’s study and was standing next to the big chair while his father gave a lecture to several of his employees. He could picture it in his mind still. It was from his father he’d learned to be civil. To be firm and tell workers plainly what was going on. He never raised his voice and he gave respect to the employees, no matter what level they were at. Whether they cleaned the floors or made business deals with men from Europe, his father gave them all respect.

Peter had learned to do the same. In a way, it made what he was doing more difficult. His father’s “no” would crush his spirit. It would make him angry but he would stifle it because he simply had too much respect for his father to act ungrateful for all the things he’d done for his only child.

“I wish there was a way to get him to understand how much I want this,” Peter mumbled, leaning to give his mother a hug.

When she spoke, he closed his eyes and listened, drawing peace from her presence.

“You’re a good son, Peter. We are so lucky and blessed to have you. Your father may be a little stubborn about some things but you know he loves you. Keep that in mind even when he seems unloving. Can you do that?”

Peter nodded, pulling back and looking in his mother’s blue eyes.

“Thank you, Momma. I’m going to try to stay as calm as I can. This is just something I really want and have for several years now. You know this.”

She nodded. Peter had spent six months being an apprentice to the carpenter in nearby Houston when he was sixteen. He’d made up his mind at the end that carpentry was his future. Now if he could only get his father on board…

The door to the study was pulled open and Mr. Bird appeared. He gave Peter and his mother a nod.

“Good afternoon, folks,” he said with a smile as he passed by. He settled his eyes on Peter, who sensed what decision had been made. Without saying anything, the banker nodded again and went down the hall to leave. Peter watched him, swinging his eyes to his mother and then to his father, who was now in the doorway.

“Come on in, son.”

Chapter Two

A year after the family lost Hattie, Josie was finally getting around to packing up her sister’s room. She entered and stopped, remembering the conversation she’d had with her mother just half an hour ago at breakfast.

“I’m ready,” her mother had said bluntly, staring at her half empty plate.

Josie and her father had stared at her, stunned.

“Ready for what, dear?” her father had asked.

With a heavy sigh, her mother’s reply had made Josie feel sad and glad at the same time.

“It’s time to clean out Hattie’s room. I… can’t do it myself but Josie… I know you’re strong enough to do it. Will you?”

Josie had reached across the table to her rest her hand on her mother’s.

“Of course I will, Mama,” she’d replied, softly. “Of course I will.”

Flashbacks to the day of the tragedy started as soon as she entered the room. She saw her sister’s smile, heard her excited laughter, then the sorrow and pain that followed so soon after the happiness.
Her heart felt like a big hand was wrapped around it, squeezing. But she pressed on. The sooner this was done, the sooner her mother would recover.

Everyone in Southampton, including her friends, Hattie’s friends and, of course, the pastor, had surrounded her and her parents after it happened, bringing dishes and helping around the house and the farm. It had proven to be very helpful, at least for her and her father. Her mother was still having a hard time with the loss.

Sometimes Josie dreamed about Hattie before the accident, when she was vibrantly alive. Josie often woke up expected Hattie to come bounding down the hall after dreams like that. Remembering what happened deflated that elation instantly, bringing back the sadness she was working hard to overcome.

The first thing Josie did was go to the tall brown set of dresser drawers near the window on the other side of the room. Hattie had been such a bright spirit. Her drawings were still stuck to the walls with tape, paintings in frames mixed in, filling up a lot of the open space.

Josie emptied the contents of the drawers quickly, trying not to dawdle over the clothes, Hattie’s favorite shirt that went perfect with a particular skirt, her “lucky stockings” she wore on special occasions, making Josie smile at the memory. From the dresser, she moved to the wardrobe, dragging the massive burlap sack she was putting it all in with her.

When it came time to take the pictures down from the walls, Josie stood for a moment looking around the room. Which ones should she leave up? What was her mother planning to do with the room? After a moment of contemplation, she decided to take everything down and strip the room entirely, including bedclothes and the drapes around the four-post bed.

She began on the wall by the window. Movement outside distracted her and she stopped with her hands up in the air. Josie moved to the glass and peered out at her father, who was in the garden. It looked like he was digging for potatoes but he was stabbing into the earth with vehemence. She kept watching for a few moments. She admired her father and was proud to be like him in so many ways. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a big chest. Josie was pretty sure he didn’t have much fat on his body because he was so muscular. He had the same chestnut brown hair as she did and the same brown eyes, even the shape of their eyes was so similar, there was no mistaking her as his daughter.

Her parents weren’t the same after Hattie died. Her father was devastated but eventually pulled away from mourning. He had a lot of work to do around the farm and in town. Soon he was doing business just like he always had. Her mother, though she was still deeply sad over the loss of her daughter, was now coming out of her mourning. Josie was happy to see it happening. She missed her mother’s smiles and the ones she’d seen lately seemed closer to normal.

Two or three years before, the house would come alive when the girls woke up. Josie had an excellent memory that stretched back into when she was a very young child. She clearly remembered sitting on her father’s lap at four years old as he taught her to recognize letters and words. Her very visual memory made it difficult now.

She went back to the wall where she’d been and started taking down the pictures. There were quite a few of them that were hand drawn by Hattie. Her sister had been talented. Josie wondered why she’d never seen these. Hattie hadn’t asked for her family’s opinion on the drawings. It was a little strange, considering the content was mostly the family. She could see the progression over the years. At the bottom of each was Hattie’s signature, from block letters to a fancy script, and the year the drawing had been made. She took the time to look at each one, admiring the growing talent she saw as each year passed. When she’d taken them all down, she set the stack on the dresser. It was her mother’s call what to do with them.

Josie pulled open the drawer of the small white with gold trimming night stand beside Hattie’s bed. She’d already stripped off the bedclothes and sat on the mattress to get everything out of the drawer. Hattie had the typical items, a brush, a hand mirror, a fan, a book (Little Women – one of the books the sisters both enjoyed as a favorite) and a pen and journal.

Josie looked at the journal. It was small, leatherbound and shut tight with a small latch. Suddenly her stomach turned over. These were Hattie’s private thoughts. Should she read them? If she didn’t read them, what should she do with it?

With trembling fingers, she touched the latch and pushed the button to snap it open. She didn’t turn it to the first page. She opened it to a random page in the middle and flipped through it to see how far Hattie had gotten. It was about three-quarters full.

She hesitated once again before flipping back a couple pages and reading the date and content for that day.

02-04-1880

We went to town today to look at supplies for the Easter festival. I am excited to go to the dance. Jonathan will be there. Mother has given me permission and a few suggestions on how to start a conversation with him! Papa also had to get involved, which I think is so amusing. He is a very funny man. I hope when I marry, my husband will be funny like him. I do not know if Jonathan is funny. I may test him next time I see him.

Jo-jo is still a free woman. I think she is wise to be selective and wait for the right man to come along. She has already said if I get married first, it is okay with her. Papa said one of us has to marry in the next two years or the family will suffer. I do not want that and I know Jo-jo doesn’t either. She is such a wise and lovely sister. I am so lucky to have her watching out for me every day. I love my family.

Josie stopped reading, slapping the book closed. She sighed, remembering the day she, Hattie, and their father had laughed about how Hattie would definitely be married first. Hattie had called her an “old stick in the mud” when it came to boys. Josie had slapped her playfully on the arm and responded with, “Hey now!”

Josie found herself smiling at the memory, something she never thought she’d do.

She pressed the book against her chest, lowering her head to pray. She thanked God for the time she’d had with her sister and asked Him to help her mother get through these hard times.

She felt a rush of cool air and looked up to see her father had pushed open Hattie’s door and was standing there, watching her.

“Everything all right in here?” he asked in a strained voice. His eyes dropped to the journal in her hands.

“Yes, papa,” she replied. She held the book out to him. “Look, I found her journal. Do you want it? I read a few paragraphs but I don’t feel right reading any more.”

He came to the bed and sat next to her, taking the leatherbound journal and looking at it contemplatively.

“I will keep this hidden from your mother until she is ready for it. What do you think?”

His brown eyes, looking so much like hers, were misty. Josie remembered how Hattie had inherited his eyes, as well. Her heart warmed over.

She put her arms around her father, as much as she could, as he was a big man. “I think that’s a good idea, Papa.”

Her father’s arms circled around her and Josie felt safe once more. His love had gotten her through. He hadn’t blamed her – neither had her mother – when she confessed what had caused the wheel to crack. They’d told her how much they loved her and that it had been an accident. She’d ended up consoling her father, who said he should have known about the faulty wheel.

In the end, a family hug and some crying had bonded her to her parents even more.

Now was the time to heal.

Chapter Three

It took his father another five minutes of looking through papers he had submitted to the bank for the loan. He felt his business proposal made a lot of sense and he’d cut the costs in some areas to make sure it was cost-efficient.

When his father finally looked up, he had a very sobering look on his face.

“All right, let’s talk about this carpentry business you want to set up.”

Peter appreciated that his father didn’t speak about his desire in a disdainful way. He actually sounded like he approved of the idea. But Peter also knew how many times he’d approached his father in the past.

“I’m sorry I went behind your back to Mr. Bird and asked for the loan, Papa,” he said, hating that his voice sounded tense and anxious. The last thing he wanted to do was give the impression of a spoiled child who didn’t get his way. It was just that the carpentry business was close to his heart, it would be his baby, his reason for getting up in the morning and getting some good rest at night.

The plan was already three years in the making. That was a long time to ponder over a desire. He wanted to make that desire come true.

His father shook his head, pressing his fingertips together in front of him and tapping his lips with his thumbs. “I understand how much this means to you, son. I’m not surprised and,” he sat forward, studying Peter’s face, “I’m impressed with your determination. You’ve been showing yourself to be a real asset to my company and well, you know your mother and I love you very much. We want you to be happy.”

Peter did know these things. His heartbeat sped up with apprehension. He could sense there was a “but” coming and worked hard to keep his temper at bay. He wouldn’t show up in front of his father. He had too much respect for him.

“I just want you to know that we do love you and want the best for you. I’m going to consider your proposal for this carpentry business but I’m afraid I will need something from you in return.”
Peter’s anxiety pulsed through his veins like cold blood. “What is it?”

His father had never proposed anything ridiculous in the past. His “quid pro quo” was always to benefit him as well as the party he was dealing with. Peter understood that. He understood the requirement of negotiation.

“I don’t want to lose you at the company, which you know. If I am to fill your spot with someone else, it would put your inheritance at risk because my second-in-command, which you are, would need to be someone else and that person will want stock in the company and the knowledge they will have job security. I am not the kind of businessman who will hire someone to fill an important position and then fire them when my son wants to come back on board.”

Peter wasn’t going to do that, though. He was certain when he got his carpentry shop up and running, he would never want to leave and would make his own money, instead of feeling part of a huge conglomerate.

“I want to work with you, Papa, but not for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be second-in-command and I won’t want you to fire whomever you choose to replace me.”

“You don’t know that’s true,” his father replied gently. He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desktop. “This is what I propose and I ask that you not say anything until I am finished. Can you do that?”

Peter was slightly amused. His father knew him too well. Although he respected his father more than anything, he still had a tendency to interrupt with his thoughts or with a defense against whatever was being said.

“I’ll do my best to keep my mouth shut,” he responded lightheartedly. Maybe this was going to go the way he wanted to after all. What could his father ask from him that he wouldn’t do in order to get his carpentry shop?

“I’ve considered it and talked to Mr. Bird, as you know. I’ve also talked to Albert Lancaster.”

Peter knew Lancaster to be the company lawyer. He wondered why his father would consult the lawyer. Was he planning to sue his own son?

He struggled with it but kept his questions to himself as requested.

“I’ve done some thinking also and have a proposal for you that I think will make everyone happy in the long run.”

Peter continued to keep his temper at bay until he knew more.

“Your mother and I have been talking recently about your personal life.”

Tingles erupted on Peter’s body. He was not interested in any women in Meadow Brook. He was a business-minded individual with no time for a woman in his life. That was for the future. Not the now.

“Okay,” he dared to say the word but didn’t say more.

“We’ve decided that if you really want the carpentry shop as much as you say you do, you will do something for us in return. I want you to get married in the next six months. If you do, I will give you the money for your carpentry shop so you don’t have to get a loan from the bank. You don’t need to be taught more responsibility. You are a very responsible young man.”

Peter frowned in confusion. “You’ve talked to Ma and to the lawyer about this? Why would this make anything better?”

“Two reasons.” His father held up two fingers. “One, your mother and I want to have grandchildren while we’re young enough to play with them and spoil them.” He smiled and Peter couldn’t help letting out a laugh through his nose. “Also, you are young. Your interests may change. You need to understand the responsibility of taking care of a family. Your mother and I won’t always be here to help you.”

“I hope that doesn’t for a long time, Pa,” Peter said.

His father nodded. “Me too. Oh, and there’s a third reason. It will give me six months to find a good replacement for you. Your position in our company holds many responsibilities as you know. I have to find someone trustworthy.”

Peter lifted his eyebrows. “You might want to consider Luke Carter. He’s got a brilliant mind, going to waste.”

“Luke Carter… hmmm.” His father sat back, swinging his eyes to stare at nothing while he thought. “I will give this some thought. So do you agree to the conditions?”

Peter had no clue where he was supposed to get a wife. He wasn’t interested in any women in Meadow Brook.

“I accept your conditions, Pa,” he said, feeling a little nervous. “I hope you’ll help me find a woman, though. I don’t know of any that are interested in me.”

His father laughed. “They’re out there, son. You’ve just never paid attention before.”