The Best of Intentions Read online

  © 2018 by Susan A. Mason

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4934-1478-9

  Unless noted, Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Scripture quotations marked NIV are from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Koechel Peterson & Associates, Inc., Minneapolis, Minnesota/Jon Godfredson

  Author is represented by Natasha Kern Literary Agency.

  For my dear friend, Sally Bayless, fellow writer and valued critique partner, who shares this writing journey with me. Our friendship has been a wonderful and unexpected blessing.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Susan Anne Mason

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

  2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV

  PROLOGUE

  MAY 1919

  Grace Abernathy stood at the rail of the SS Olympic, staring out over the calm expanse of sea as the last trace of sunlight disappeared over the horizon. Darkness spread outward to encompass the water, pierced only by a single beam from the masthead light. All traces of warmth vanished with the sun, and Grace shivered within her new wool coat—the one Mum had insisted she buy for the trip.

  After her second full day at sea, Grace forced herself not to stare longingly back toward England, her beloved homeland, but instead concentrated on her destination with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Toronto, Canada, the city where her sister had settled five years ago. So much had happened in those five years to both of them.

  Would Rose have left home that spring of 1914 if she’d known the world would soon be engulfed by war and that her life would be forever changed? Grace gripped the rail in front of her as a wave slapped the hull, sending a spray of cold water droplets upward. The churning sea below mirrored the emotions surging beneath her calmdemeanor. Rose needed her help, and Grace would not let her down.

  She reached inside her coat to finger the small gold cross Rose had given her before she left.

  “Wear this close to your heart, Grace, and remember I love you. We’ll be together again one day, I know it.”

  Now a war widow with an infant to care for, Rose had begged Grace in her letters to come to Canada, but the danger of sailing during wartime and the responsibility of caring for their ailing mother had kept Grace from leaving their Sussex village. Once the travel warnings had been lifted, Mum insisted Grace go to Rose and convince her to come home, since the hope of seeing her grandson was the only thing keeping her alive. And so, with Aunt Violet agreeing to take Mum in, Grace had finally purchased her ticket to cross the sea.

  The cry of a gull overhead drew Grace’s focus back to her surroundings. With the wind on her face and the rush of the water beneath her, she felt free for the first time in her life. Free of the constraints of her hometown, free to pursue the adventure she’d always longed for, and almost free—but not quite—of the guilt that chained her soul. She prayed that bringing Mum’s only grandchild home would be the key to loosening those chains once and for all, and at last allow Grace to pursue her own dreams. Her own goals.

  But first, there was Rose.

  “How about a kiss for a soldier, darlin’?” A rough voice cut through the night air.

  Goose bumps erupted over Grace’s body at the slur of the man’s words. The fact that she was alone at the ship’s rail at this late hour made matters worse. The lay passengers shared the ship with many soldiers returning to Canada, and though the crew worked hard at keeping the two groups separate, it wasn’t always possible to corral the military men. Most of the soldiers were respectful, but the captain said he couldn’t guarantee the women’s safety and had warned them to remain belowdeck after dark.

  Yet, unable to sleep in her stuffy quarters, Grace had craved the fresh sea air and had dared to risk coming up alone. Bracing herself, she faced the uniformed man. “My husband wouldn’t appreciate you talking to me that way, sir. Kindly leave me alone.” She turned back to the water, hoping her quaking knees would not betray her.

  “Husband, eh? What kind of man would allow his lovely wife to run around on a ship full of soldiers—alone?”

  A heavy hand landed on her shoulder. She jerked and attempted to step away, but the man pulled her closer. His breath reeked of spirits and tobacco. His jawline was covered in several days’ growth of beard that didn’t hide the angry red scar marring his face.

  Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. Why hadn’t she worn her hat instead of tying a kerchief around her hair? At least then she’d have a hatpin to use as a weapon.

  “If you value your hand, you’d best remove it from the lady. Now.”

  Another masculine voice issued the challenge from behind her.

  The soldier whirled around, scowling. “Mind your own business, pal. My lady friend and I are looking for some privacy, if you get my drift.”

  Grace turned to see a tall man dressed in a fedora and trench coat, standing perfectly still. His dark brows were drawn together in a frown, and a pulse ticked in his clean-shaven jaw.

  “I highly doubt that, since the lady is my wife.” His gaze never wavered.

  Grace fought to keep her jaw from dropping.

  The soldier’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re her husband, why haven’t I seen you together? I’ve been watching her since we boarded yesterday, and she’s been alone the whole time.”

  Grace’s heart thudded. Since we boarded? She gripped the lapels of her coat together.

  The stranger didn
’t blink. “I’ve been in our cabin. Feeling a bit under the weather. But I’ve got my strength back now.” He took an intimidating step closer. “I suggest you return to the other soldiers where you belong. And don’t think about bothering any of the other women on board.” Another step brought him within striking distance. He towered over the man. “Do I make myself clear?”

  The soldier regarded him for a few seconds, as though deciding whether or not to engage in a fight, then spat a stream of brown tobacco juice onto the deck. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” With a humorless laugh, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and strolled away.

  The stranger moved to Grace’s side, not taking his focus off the soldier until he was out of sight. Then he turned his attention to her. “Are you all right, miss?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She released a breath and allowed her stomach muscles to relax. “I appreciate your help.”

  Up close, the man’s eyes radiated compassion and kindness.

  Thank you, Lord, for sending a protector.

  “It’s the least I could do . . . for my wife.” He chuckled.

  Grace hoped he couldn’t see the heat in her cheeks.

  “My name’s Quinten Aspinall. It appears we’ll be traveling companions.”

  “Grace Abernathy.” She pulled her collar up around her neck. “I probably shouldn’t have come here alone, but I had to get out of the cabin. I was going stir-crazy, not to mention that my roommate snores rather loudly.”

  “That’s why I’m out here as well. And—”

  “Quinten?” a female voice said. “Is everything all right?”

  For the first time, Grace noticed a young woman standing in the shadows. She came toward them, her brow furrowed. As she drew nearer, Grace was awed by her beauty. Flawless skin, ebony hair, and striking blue eyes. Unlike Grace in her sensible gray coat, this girl was the height of fashion, dressed in a matching red cape and feathered hat.

  “Everything’s fine, Emmaline.”

  Grace frowned at the man. “You left your wife to help me?”

  “Oh, he’s not my husband.” The girl trilled a perfect laugh. “We met yesterday on the ship.” She strolled over to them. “My traveling companion hasn’t found his sea legs yet, so when Quinten saw me up here alone, he gallantly offered to serve as my protector until Jonathan rallies.”

  Grace did her best not to gape. This girl was traveling with a male companion? How unconventional.

  “It seems my services might be required here as well.” Mr. Aspinall winked at Grace. “May I be so bold as to suggest we form an alliance while on board?”

  “What sort of alliance?” Grace didn’t bother to hide her skepticism. A woman traveling alone couldn’t be too careful.

  “You have to admit there’s safety in numbers. And I, for one, could use some friends on this voyage.”

  Emmaline laughed. “You might as well agree. He’ll only hound you until you do. Trust me, I know from recent experience.” She held out a gloved hand. “I’m Emmaline Moore. And I’d be happy to have a friend on board too.”

  “Grace Abernathy.” She smiled as she shook the girl’s hand, finding her infectious good humor as soothing as a tonic. “I’d like that.” She hesitated a moment, then offered her hand to Quinten. “Very well, Mr. Aspinall. It appears you’ve made another friend.”

  “Friends it is. And please call me Quinn.”

  A spray of salt water showered the deck. Quinn led her and Emmaline to a more sheltered spot and gestured to the deck chairs. “Why don’t we have a seat and get to know each other better? I’d love to hear why you’re traveling to Canada. And why Emmaline has a mysterious male companion who is neither a relative nor a husband.”

  Grace settled into her chair. “I’ll admit I’m curious about that as well.”

  “It’s no big mystery.” Emmaline perched daintily on the edge of one of the lounges. “Jonathan and I grew up together. We’re like brother and sister. When I told him I intended to travel to Canada to find my father, he insisted on coming with me—in separate cabins, of course.”

  “How fortunate you are,” Grace said. “I wish I had someone to travel with.”

  “What’s the reason for your trip, Grace?” Quinn’s face was shrouded in shadows.

  “I’m going to visit my sister. Her husband died in the war, leaving her alone with a new baby.” She fingered the cross hanging from her neck. “I hope to convince her to come home with me.”

  “I’m very sorry for your sister.” Emmaline’s expression grew sad. “This war has been such a terrible waste of lives.”

  “That it has.” Grace breathed in the salty air. “You said you’re looking for your father?”

  “Yes. It’s a long, rather gloomy story.” She pulled her cape up under her chin. “I’d believed my father to be dead all these years, but when I discovered he’s alive and living in Canada, I had to find him.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Grace thought of her own father, gone these many years. She’d sail to China if there were a chance to find him alive. “And what about you, Quinn?”

  A sudden gust of wind threatened to lift the hat from his head. He removed it and held it on his lap. “My story is similar to both of yours in that I’m searching for family members. Siblings actually.” His jaw became tense, his eyes stormy. “I’d rather not get into the details though.”

  Grace feared his was not a happy tale. It seemed they each had their own obstacles to overcome on this trip. Yet for the first time since she left home, she didn’t feel quite so alone. “Well, I’m grateful to have you both as traveling companions. And I pray that once we reach the shores of Canada, we’ll find the answers we seek.”

  Quinn nodded, his face grim. “God willing. I only hope we can live with whatever we discover.”

  Grace shivered, burrowing further into her coat, wishing to dispel the ominous tone of his words. Only God knew what was in store for each of them. Faced with such an uncertain future, all Grace could do was rely on her faith to sustain her through the journey.

  CHAPTER 1

  April 1914

  Dearest Grace,

  I made it! I’ve arrived in Toronto. The month of April is still cold here with only the barest hint of spring. Reverend Burke has helped me find a lovely boardinghouse in the heart of the city. Mrs. Chamberlain, the proprietress, is a kind, generous woman. She’s taken me under her wing, along with several other girls from back home, and has made me feel most welcome. Living here, I can almost forget I’m thousands of miles away from you. Almost . . .

  TORONTO, ONTARIO

  MAY 1919

  “Here’s your address, miss. That’ll be two dollars and fifty cents.”

  Grace paid her fare, alighted from the vehicle, then stood on the sidewalk, clutching her valise with trembling fingers.

  She could scarcely believe that after a six-day ocean voyage, a journey by train from Halifax to Montreal, and another train from Montreal to Toronto, she had finally reached her destination.

  Her first impressions of Canada were as varied as the three cities she’d visited since her arrival at the Nova Scotia port. Cold, gray Halifax still harbored remnants of winter with traces of snow that hugged the landscape. Foreign and vaguely frightening, Montreal was filled with tall buildings and strange, lightning-fast snatches of the French language. And now, Toronto. Having been in the city for less than an hour, she’d yet to form a complete picture. On her ride from Union Station, she’d passed an eclectic mix of buildings, from office towers to historic churches, until they’d finally come to a residential neighborhood with tree-lined streets.

  It was hard to believe that a mere three weeks ago Grace had been at home in Sussex, caring for her mother, her life as normal as could be expected after the ravages of war. She and Mum had been slowly coping with the news of her brother Owen’s death in one of the last battles before peace had been declared. Her mother had not dealt well with the blow and had sunk into a deep depression at the loss of her son. Not
hing Grace said or did seemed to lift her spirits.

  Which was why so much depended on this trip.

  Grace drew her attention back to the lovely redbrick house before her—a far cry from the fleapit she’d imagined. Rose and the baby must love living in this charming home. The first leaves were beginning to bud on the trees in the yard. A welcoming pot of pansies decorated the wide front porch. Above her, an upper balcony ran the length of the house, interrupted by a jutting turret room. Where did Rose stay? Likely on the third story, where an appealing dormer window peeked out over the roof.

  Grace inhaled deeply and pressed a palm to her stomach, which rolled and tossed as though she were still aboard the ship. Would Rose be surprised to see her at the door? Even if the telegram had reached her by now, Rose wouldn’t have any idea how long it would take Grace to get from Halifax to Toronto.

  She walked up the stairs and knocked on the front door, praying Rose was right and that Grace would be welcome at Mrs. Gardiner’s, at least until they’d sorted out their plans. Her sister seemed genuinely fond of the woman who had taken Rose and the baby in when she could no longer stay at the boardinghouse. For the moment, however, Grace forced her worries aside and focused instead on the long-awaited reunion with her sister. Tingles of anticipation shot through her. She could hardly wait to hug Rose and hold her new nephew for the first time. Kiss his sweet cheeks and catch up on all her sister’s news.

  Several seconds went by with no response. Was everyone out? Grace knocked again, but no one appeared. Disappointment sat heavy on her shoulders. She set her suitcase on the porch and turned to look back at the street. Only then did she spy a For Sale sign almost hidden by a wide tree trunk. Rose hadn’t mentioned that Mrs. Gardiner was planning to sell her house. Perhaps that was the reason Rose had talked about getting a place of their own as soon as Grace managed to find work.

  She swallowed the metallic taste of guilt. Rose didn’t realize that Grace had no intention of procuring a job or renting a flat, because she planned to do everything in her power to persuade Rose to return with her on the next ship home.

  After another knock with no response, Grace picked up her suitcase and descended the front stairs. Her frazzled mind struggled to come up with a new plan. She’d never even entertained the possibility that Rose wouldn’t be here.