Epilogue #2
Henry opened the barn door and followed him to Scarlett’s stall.
He nodded at Joshua and shifted his weight from foot to foot.
Clearly, he had something of importance to say.
“I’ve got a business proposition for you.
” Henry pulled the wolf from his pocket and rubbed his thumb across its smooth chest.
Joshua stifled a smile at the earnest expression on Henry’s face. “Go ahead then. Let’s hear it.”
“I been thinking about those woods of yours.” He leaned back on his heels, reminding Joshua of a shopkeeper about to strike a deal.
“You’ve got the perfect spot for a sawmill, don’t you?
” The question was so unexpected, it took Joshua a moment to marshal his thoughts.
“Yes. And all the lumber you could ask for.”
“I reckon you need an investor.”
Joshua had scarcely allowed himself to hope for this. “Who would invest in my mill? I’m no businessman.”
Henry looked up, a gleam of mischief in his eyes that Simon recognized. It always preceded an outrageous scheme.
“But I am.”
Joshua snorted. “You? Where would you find investors?” He tried to laugh to cover up his dashed hopes, but the disappointment was bitter. He should have known the boy was only—
“Charlotte wrote Mr. Ballantine asking for investing advice once you said you wouldn’t touch her money.” Henry shook his head. “Still don’t know why you did that.”
Joshua shrugged. To his mind, the money from Edenbrook belonged to her. He didn’t want her sinking it into his dream, which might very well end in disaster.
“That gave me an idea,” Henry continued. “Ballantine helped me set it up. Charlotte’s an investor. So is Ballantine.” He smiled. “I invested my first month’s pay, too. We’ve got fifty pounds to invest.” Henry’s voice was now as serious and steady as any businessman’s.
“Fifty pounds? That’s enough to—”
“To set up a sawmill. Yes, I reckon it is. Did some research.”
Joshua couldn’t believe the opportunity before him.
The business he’d dreamed of. He knew exactly which trees he’d start with.
He could maintain his woodlot for years to come, replenishing as needed with seedlings.
Nothing wasted. Perhaps he’d even bring to life some of the furniture designs he’d scribbled down.
With Ballantine’s connections, he could get them in the city stores.
“Are you in?” Henry’s curt question recalled him to the present. His brother stood in front of him, hand extended.
“Aye,” Joshua said, returning the handshake. “I’m in.”
“Good.” The relief on Henry’s face warmed Joshua. “You got time to discuss the contract?”
“I’ll make time.” Joshua reached out his hand to squeeze Henry’s shoulder. “I’d always make time for you, Henry,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
By midafternoon, the guests bundled into their sleigh and drove off with promises of another visit before the snow thawed. Joshua brought his cutter around, and the Fosters gave Charlotte a send-off worthy of a daughter of the house.
“You brought Scarlett.” Charlotte turned to him with a smile. “I was hoping you would.”
“The cutter is light enough for her to pull,” he said.
“Besides, I reckon she wouldn’t have wanted to be left behind.
Not today.” Charlotte tucked her arm in his and nestled close.
Even though they were still in plain view of the Fosters, he bent down and touched his lips to hers.
Sam groaned in the background and Joshua felt Charlotte’s lips curve into a smile under his.
Joshua slapped the reins, and they set off down the trail. With the Fosters’ help, he’d cleared a shortcut to his homestead on Line 4 to make travel easier for her. On a good day, she could get to Simon’s in an hour instead of four or five.
Charlotte was uncharacteristically silent beside him. He looked down to see her brow puckered and her lips turned down in what looked like sadness. Was she having regrets?
His stomach dropped. They should have waited until spring. Given her more time to adjust to the bush and consider her options. It couldn’t help that they’d seldom seen each other over the past month. He’d barely slept, what with working on the trail and making improvements to his cabin.
“Charlotte?”
“Hmmm?” She looked up at him with a smile that seemed forced.
“What’s wrong?”
Charlotte started. “I . . . Nothing’s wrong.”
“You don’t look happy.”
She reached up to kiss his cheek. He turned his head so her lips landed on his.
She smiled. “I am happy. It’s just . . .
” His heart sank. Here it was. She’d tell him she missed Edenbrook.
She wanted to move back to the city. “I wish Simon could’ve been here,” she said.
“I know it’s impossible. I miss him, that’s all. ”
A wave of guilt swamped him. While he’d reveled in the presence of his family, she’d felt the absence of hers. His homestead came into view, making his heart sink still further. It was bound to be another disappointment to her.
Charlotte wanted to see the stable first, of course, and assure herself that Scarlett was settled comfortably in her roomy new stall next to Bess. Then, hand in hand, they headed to the cabin.
Joshua’s heart pounded. He’d plastered over the rough log walls and added an extra room, but it was still a cabin in the bush with no servants to carry water or scrub the laundry.
What would she think of it?
He hurried to open the door for her, leading her into the darkened room. He put his lantern on the table and bent to stoke the fire.
“Joshua? What is all this?”
Charlotte stood in the center of the room, turning slowly in a circle.
Her gaze locked on the watercolor of Edenbrook, then jumped to the delicate writing desk and accompanying embroidered stool he’d set up under the window.
Her favorite books from Edenbrook stood in a row on its surface.
In the kitchen, he’d put up a new shelf for her tea set and stacked the plates and bowls from Edenbrook’s kitchen.
Through the doorway, in the bedroom he’d only just added to the cabin, was her quilt from home.
She took it in, her eyes lingering on each item, as though she relived a memory with every piece.
Finally, he could take the silence no longer. “Don’t you like it?”
Her gaze flew to his face. “I . . .” Tears filled her eyes.
She hated it. Blast. He should have known better than to surround her with memories of happier times.
Charlotte picked up her skirt, and for one horrible second, he thought she meant to run from the cabin.
Instead, she launched herself into his arms.
“Thank you,” she said, covering his face with tiny kisses. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it.”
He sighed in relief, his arms tightening around her.
She pulled back. “How did you . . .” Her eyes roamed the room again, noticing the smaller things she’d missed before. The lace curtains and a small carving of a horse he’d placed on the mantel.
“Fulton helped me.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. It’s the nicest surprise I’ve ever had.”
He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m glad. I wanted you to feel at home.”
Charlotte slid her arms around his neck and stretched up on her toes until her lips almost touched his. “It is a beautiful gesture, Joshua, but I hope you know I’d love it here even without these memories.”
He looked around at the bare wood floor with no carpet, the tiny window, the rough stone hearth. “You would?”
“Of course. I love you. And wherever you are is home.”