Promise of Tomorrow (2 page)

As if sensing his stare, Alaina cast him a sidelong glance, brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “So is this my surprise?”

Jack softened and grasped her hand, his carefully rehearsed words scattered. But one thing he knew for certain. “I love you, Alaina Morrison.”

❧

Alaina felt the grip of longing burn her throat as she gazed down into the valley toward Johnstown. She wanted to go home. On the other hand, if not for the Hensleys' early arrival, she would still be dodging her mother's not-so-subtle criticisms about women who settle for less than the best. Meaning Jack.

A breeze skimmed her brow and cooled her sun-warmed back. She closed her eyes to absorb the sights and sounds, the smells and feelings. Jack's surprise visit pleased her. She needed this—to be brought here by the man she loved and reminded of God's beauty.

If only the subject of Robert hadn't surfaced.

She became aware of Jack's stare and tilted her head in his direction. He reached to clasp her other hand. His declaration of love seemed so heartfelt. It pleased her to hear the words, as it had always pleased her, but as he tugged her toward him, the last emotion to settle in her heart and erode all others was one of confusion.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered.

She cast about for something lighthearted to say and skimmed a finger over his upper lip. “I see that your mustache is coming right along. Very scoundrel-ish.”

He raised his brows. “Scoundrel-ish? You said you liked mustaches. I think it makes me look dignified. And older.”

“Yes, older.” She shoved at him, laughing. “You look like you're fifty. If you had gray hair, I'd hand you a cane.”

He laughed and waggled his brows. “I could marry Widow Sanford.”

“She wouldn't have you.”

He captured her free hand, his eyes suddenly serious and searching. “Would you?”

Alaina's breath halted. A breeze chilled her skin and ruffled his longish blond hair. In the depth of his eyes, she saw the sincerity of his question. She opened her mouth and gulped air, unable to form words.

“I think I'm going about this all wrong.” He bent at the knee, never releasing her hands. His thumbs stroked along her knuckles, and he cleared his throat.

Her heart churned, and she glanced around in a fit of nerves. “Jack, people are looking.”

“Does it matter?”

“I—” Alaina swallowed and faced him again as his hands tightened on hers.

Jack's eyes twinkled.

“No. You're right. Go ahead.”

“Good, because this ground sure is hard.”

“Roads usually are packed hard.”

“I think I knelt on a rock.”

“Then hurry.”

“But what about the pretty speech I've rehearsed for the last two weeks?”

“Two weeks?” she gasped.

“Now, let's see. . . . Oh yes.” Jack shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Alaina, you've brought so much light into my life. I mean to make you proud of me. I need you. I want you by my side, to love me and be loved by me. Marry me, Alaina Morrison. Please.”

Words wouldn't form on her lips, and she bit back the urge to giggle. What did a woman say when the man she loved asked her to marry him? “Yes” seemed so insufficient. Yet her heart beat so hard that she wasn't at all sure she could vocalize more than that small word. She pulled her hands away and touched Jack's elbows, urging him to his feet. She nodded, and the first tears started down her cheeks.

He produced a handkerchief, looking quite pleased with himself, and dabbed beneath her eyes.

“Yes, Jack. Yes.” Not caring what or who was watching, she lunged into his arms. When she tried to pull back, his arms tightened.

His voice came out deep and rich. “Thank you.” He released her and frowned a bit. “I wanted to give you a gold band but I—”

“I don't need one of those fancy rings, Jack.”

“I'll buy you one as soon as I can set aside some money.”

She stifled a sigh, not wanting to remind him that she didn't need expensive trifles to be happy. With great effort, she pushed away her frustration.

He raised her hand to his lips. “Always?”

“Always,” she echoed.

After Jack had seen her to the door of Moorhead cottage and the warm glow of the evening had receded, Alaina lay for hours in the dark room, the sounds of Lily's breathing soft against her ear. She wiped away the tears from her cheeks. All the warnings of her mother, all the fears and doubts, came rushing back to her, until she could stand it no longer and slipped to her knees.

Lord, what have I done?

Two

May 12, 1889

“He forgot you again?” Mary Hilton's eyebrows arched high.

Alaina turned toward the sullen lake waters and closed her eyes. She never should have mentioned it to her chattery friend. Blustery clouds and a chill wind promised an afternoon storm, but nothing compared to what Alaina felt in her heart. She bit her lip to hold back the tears as she gathered the food items into the basket. “He's a busy man. An important man, Mary. The company needs him.”

Mary made a sound like an indignant snort. “What about you? What is he in love with, you or his job?”

Directly in front of the boardwalk from where they stood, an old rowboat had settled in muddy soil, no longer used for its original purpose but serving as a flowerpot. Spring geraniums, buds in abundance, petunias, and pansies all craned their necks toward the weak sunshine. Damp air rolled from the lake surface and spiraled around the two friends.

Alaina drew strength from God's beauty and waved her hand. “He is doing it for us.”

“I think you should give Robert a chance.” Mary hefted the picnic basket and called for her young charges. The children came running, jostling each other the whole way. She turned back to Alaina. “He is obviously interested in you. And he'll get the promotion before Jack will. He's been with the company longer.”

Mary had her opinion and never shrank from expressing it, but sometimes Alaina wished her friend would bite down a little harder on her quick tongue.

“Robert would do anything for you, even move you away from grim little Johnstown.” Mary motioned the children to go ahead of her. “Why, just yesterday he heard a visitor from the Midwest say Johnstown's sunrise began at ten o'clock and ended at two. How dreary is that? I definitely don't want to be stuck living here all my life.”

Alaina had to agree with the visitor's description. Nestled between the mountains, Johnstown's sunny day did, indeed, begin later. Still, Alaina loved the place. The small city's bustle never failed to excite her. Even the constant drizzle of rain in the spring months did nothing to diminish her affection. To her, Johnstown held the best of both worlds. For in the moments when life became too stressful, she could always escape to the peaceful mountains. “That's just it.” Alaina faced her friend. “I don't
want
to live anywhere else. I don't long for the big city like you do. Johnstown is my home.”

Her friend looked skeptical. “But don't you get tired of it? And Jack is always forgetting you.”

“He doesn't forget. He has to work on his plans when he has the chance. When he thinks he's on to something, he prefers not to break his concentration. You know how important this invention is to him. To us. And it's a long way up here from Johnstown.”

“I'm happy for you, Lainey. Really.” Mary touched her sleeve. “It's just that Jack is so unpredictable. I wonder what kind of husband he'll be.”

Alaina felt the peace leak from her heart. She didn't want to answer. How many times had she asked herself that same question? Not wishing to take the conversation any further, she called to Thomas, Lily, and Mark.

“I'm sorry,” Mary's voice whispered. “I want you to be happy, and if Jack makes you happy, then I'll say no more about it.”

The Hensley children gathered around Alaina. “Go ahead and see your brother and sister home, Mark. I'll be right behind you.”

Mark groaned. Lily, ever the little mother, grabbed Thomas's hand and practically pulled him over in her enthusiasm to get home.

“Slow down,” Alaina admonished the little girl. “His legs aren't as long.”

Mark herded his siblings up the boardwalk as Mary adjusted the picnic basket and shooed the twins ahead of her.

Alaina stole another glance at the sky. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, and a rain-swept breeze filtered through her hair and caressed her cheek. Rain. Again. She inhaled the damp breeze and closed her eyes.

“You coming?”

Alaina's eyes popped open. She gave one more glance at the ever-darkening sky and hurried to catch up to Mary.

Her friend chuckled. “Woolgathering?”

“It looks like more rain is on the way.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “As if we haven't had enough already.” She snapped her fingers. “I almost forgot to tell you. The Garrens are only going to be here three more days.”

“They're leaving early?”

Mary nodded. “Mrs. Garren said they wouldn't be needing me for as long as they had anticipated.” She did a little bounce on the balls of her feet. “I'm really hoping she'll ask me to return with them to Philly as governess. Aren't the Hensleys leaving next week?”

“Yes. I found out yesterday morning.” She skimmed the dull surface of the dark blue water. “I believe they're going to visit Mr. Carnegie's home in Cresson for a month. Then they'll return.”

“Aren't you going with them to watch the children?”

She shook her head. “The Carnegies are arranging for a woman in Cresson to help with the children during the visit.”

Mary's eyes glittered. She sighed. “I wish they would have asked me. I would have jumped at the chance to be inside that rich mansion with all those high society people.”

Alaina frowned, disturbed by her friend's preoccupation with all people rich.

Mary tilted her head and winked. “Does Jack know you'll be home next weekend?”

“I was going to surprise him.” Last night, she almost said. She had envisioned his joy and the plans they would make to see the opera, go roller-skating, and take long walks in the evenings during her unexpected reprieve from the Hensleys.

“Well,” Mary said, her voice a sympathetic whisper, “you've got a whole month to do as you please. Maybe Jack will finally invent whatever he's trying to invent, and you two can settle down and plan your wedding. If he gets the promotion, that'll be icing on the cake. Should satisfy your mother, too.”

A dull throb began behind Alaina's eyes. The reality was, her mother was never satisfied.

As they turned onto the walkway leading to Moorhead cottage, Mary gave her a wan smile and squeezed her hand. “Gotta go, Lainey. I enjoyed the picnic. Like old times, right?”

Three

Cambria Iron Works, Johnstown, Pennsylvania

Jack Kelly skidded into his boss's office. He pulled out a wadded handkerchief and mopped the sweat from his brow. Working in the constant and terrible heat of the blast furnace for twelve hours never failed to renew his determination to be the next shift manager.

Clarence Fulton didn't flinch at Jack's flurried entrance. His heavy brows shadowed his dark eyes, lending him a gaunt, haunted appearance.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Fulton.” Jack inclined his head toward the man, stuffed his handkerchief back in his pocket, and held out his hand.

“Same to you, my boy.” Fulton ignored Jack's proffered hand. “Sit down and tell me the latest on the progress of your plans.”

Jack's finger roved inside his snug collar to release the sudden tightness against his neck. “I'm still working on the process, sir.”

Clarence frowned and leaned forward, his chair belching a groan. “We've poured a lot of money into your research, Jack. I hope you are doing all you can to make sure the money is spent wisely. An invention such as you hope to spawn could revolutionize the steel industry.”

Jack clasped his hands tight. His future depended on Clarence's patience. For long hours, Jack had studied the open-hearth process of turning iron ore into steel in hopes of inventing a method safer and quicker. He'd made pages and pages of notations whenever a new theory came to him. So far, none had worked. Now Clarence was obviously worried that his money was funneling into a chasm. Jack adjusted his collar again. He couldn't afford to do the research without Mr. Fulton's monetary backing. He forced himself to maintain an outward calm. “What are your fears, Mr. Fulton?”

“Fears? I wouldn't call them fears, Jack. Concerns, yes, but not fears. You come up with the solution to the slow process, one we can implement right here in Johnstown, and you'll be a very wealthy man.” His eyes scraped down the length of Jack.

Jack witnessed Clarence's grimace of distaste at his disheveled appearance. He swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

“I have another project for you.” Clarence's palms smacked against the arms of his chair, and he pushed himself to a stand. “I want you to go up to that club and check on that dam. They've got a new civil engineer, I hear. I want to know what he's doing to insure the safety of the towns in line with that dam, Johnstown in particular.”

“Mr. Morrell sent someone before and—”

“Daniel Morrell, God rest his soul, allowed those South Fork club snobs to put him off. I won't.”

“They don't take kindly to people being there who don't belong,” Jack said.

Clarence waved his hand in dismissal. “Not a problem. Your lady friend works up there for one of those fancy families, doesn't she? Go visit her.”

Jack winced at the thought of facing Alaina after he ran out of time the previous night and was forced to choose between making the trek to South Fork or using his precious hours to work on his plans. He'd sent a telegram of regret to her, but unless she went to South Fork with the Hensleys, the chances Alaina got his message were slim.

Mr. Fulton crossed his arms and glared at a map of Johnstown on his wall. “The dam won't withstand all the water that club is filling it with for their fishing pleasure. If it crumbles”—he raised his hand, made a fist, and swiped it through the air—“Johnstown will be wiped out.”

Jack nodded and leaned back. Every spring of the six years since he had moved to Johnstown, talk swirled among the townspeople about the South Fork Dam that held Lake Conemaugh. The dam hovered more than five hundred feet above Johnstown. Despite her love of the view the dam generated, Alaina, too, had expressed her fear of a breach many times. A break meant the water would sluice down the valley between the mountains and splash into Johnstown to form an enormous, deep, and deadly, puddle. Still, he had to be practical. Many men had examined the dam over the years. “Might I remind you, sir, that the last inspection indicated—”

“The last inspection was almost five years ago, boy.” Clarence pinned him with a hard stare. “Between the April snow and all the rain this month, the rivers are already running high. We had bad floods in '85, '87, and last year. All we need is for the South Fork to bust open and we'll all be rowing down the river, whether we want to or not.”

“It hasn't burst yet, sir.”

“Yet.” Fulton plopped down into his chair and tapped his fingers on the armrest. “Much more rain than this and history will be repeated. If we get doused, history, our history, just might end right here.”

Jack cast about for a way to turn the conversation back to his research. He needed a little more time. Plans for a new theory for his invention were almost complete. He had a couple more tests to conduct on his working model. But working twelve-hour shifts made it difficult to find the time. And then there was Alaina.

When Mr. Fulton rose from his chair and regarded Jack in silence, he knew the meeting had come to an end. Jack nodded to his employer and scuttled toward the door.

“I like you, Jack. You're a hard worker. Keep working on those plans and report back to me in three days on the dam. Your diligence in this matter will position you well for that promotion, too.” Clarence's lips curved in a semblance of a smile. “Hard work will take you far. Very far.”

Elated at the implied promise in Clarence's words, Jack made his exit. He lengthened his stride and began to mentally run through his latest theory, checking and rechecking the process for errors.

“Licking the shoes of the bigwig again?”

He raised his head to see Robert Whitfield coming toward him down the hall. Robert's crude words piqued his ire. “Mr. Fulton knows I'm a dedicated worker. He calls on me when there's a job to be done.”

“Or a promotion to be had?” Robert shook his head. “Nah. I've got this promotion in the bag, Jackie. Fulton's stringing you along to bleed what he can out of you, hoping you'll make him rich with your so-called invention.” Robert's black hair, slicked to his head with sweat from the furnaces, lent his skin a pasty tint.

If not for the man's generous build, Jack would have laughed at his tough talk. He relaxed his fists, not realizing he had clenched them. Anything he said to Robert would filter back to Alaina through the ever-talkative Mary. He exhaled slowly and stepped around the man. “I've got to get back to work.”

Jack's nemesis shrugged and continued down the hallway. “And I've got a meeting.” He stopped in front of Clarence Fulton's door and sent Jack a sneering grin. “Can't keep Mr. Fulton waiting, can I?” He pitched his voice lower. “Wait until I'm your boss, Jackie. I'll have time for you and lots of it. Alaina won't give you a second glance once I get that promotion.”

Something in Jack's chest unclenched at Robert's naive statement, and he found he could breathe again. “Really? Is that why she has agreed to become my wife?”