Christine Johnson - Legacy of Love

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A Midwestern Cinderella

She dreamed of digging through ancient ruins—but the only exploring Anna Simmons gets to do is in the expensive houses she cleans in Pearlman, Michigan. When Brandon Landers hires her, she’s unsure whether to be furious or thrilled. He evicted Anna and her ailing mother, but she’s heard rumors of hidden treasure on his land. Treasure Anna decides to find. Not just for herself, but for her new employer whose unexpected kindness has softened her heart.

Physically and spiritually wounded in the Great War, Brandon knows not to hope for the impossible—like buried riches or Anna’s love. Is there still time for them to learn that the only treasure they need is a lifetime together?

“It seems we each have a need.”

“You need a place to live, and I need a housekeeper. If you would be agreeable to the arrangement, I would like to offer you the use of the apartment in exchange for housekeeping services. Two or three times a week would be sufficient.”

Housekeeping? He wanted her to clean house? He was just like the rest of the rich people who lived on the hill. She should have known.

“Y-y-you—” Anna sputtered, trying to find words to dismiss the outlandish plan.

Ma took advantage of her fury to ruin everything. “That would be wonderful. Oh, Mr. Brandon, how can we ever thank you? It’s perfect, isn’t it, Anna?”

Perfect? Living under the thumb of Brandon Landers? Working for him as a servant? Living in what must be servant’s quarters?

It wasn’t perfect; it was humiliating.

About the Author

A small-town girl, CHRISTINE JOHNSONhas lived in every corner of Michigan’s Lower Peninsula. She loves to travel and learn about the places she visits. That puts museums high on her list of “must see” places and helps satisfy her lifetime fascination with history and archaeology.

Twice a finalist for RWA’s Golden Heart award, she enjoys creating stories that bring history to life while exploring the characters’ spiritual journey—and putting them in peril! Though Michigan is still her home base, she and her ship captain husband also spend time exploring the Florida Keys and other fascinating locations. Christine loves to hear from readers. Contact her through her website at http://christineelizabethjohnson.com.

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If we confess our sins, he is faithful

and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

—1 John 1:9

For my nieces, Jennifer and Sara.

May you find adventure around every corner

while enjoying the solid foundation of home.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Teaser Chapter

Chapter One

Pearlman, Michigan

December 1922

“I had to resign,” Anna Simmons explained to her sister-in-law, Mariah, as she pushed open the mercantile door. Her red knit glove looked like a splash of paint against the darkened oak.

The bell on the door tinkled, announcing their arrival to the handful of customers shopping that afternoon. Most looked up to see who’d entered. That’s the way it was in Pearlman. Everyone kept track of everyone else. Sometimes that was good. Other times gossip had a way of taking off and running around town until it had wrung the life out of everyone involved.

Anna knew full well that word of her leaving the Neideckers’ employ would race through town like wildfire. Best douse that flame before it got started.

“I had no choice,” she announced loudly enough for everyone in the store to hear.

“Why?” Mariah’s brow puckered into a frown as she picked up a shopping basket.

“The uniform she wanted me to wear was positively indecent. Why, the skirt didn’t even cover my knees. It was as short as a bathing suit.”

Mariah shook her head. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“It was horrible, with a frilly white apron and cap.” She lowered her voice when Mrs. Butterfield glanced her way. “How am I supposed to clean in that? Especially with Joe Neidecker looking at me like I was some floozy.” She shuddered at the memory of the oldest son’s stare. Everyone knew he frequented the speakeasy. “I can imagine what he was thinking. I’ve read books.”

“Dime novels,” Mariah pointed out.

“Books,” Anna stressed. “In the last one I read, the maid fell in love with the duke’s eldest son only to be thrown out on the streets.”

“The son didn’t rescue her? Usually those stories have happy endings.”

“That’s not my point. They threw her out.”

Mariah clucked softly. “So you took matters into your own hands.”

“I’m not wearing that uniform. I clean houses. I am not a servant.” She’d told Mrs. Neidecker the very same thing, but the woman didn’t take it well. Her tirade still rang in Anna’s ears.

“We are all called to serve,” Mariah pointed out. “Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. There is no shame in working as a servant.”

“Maybe.” Anna did not need a lecture. Mariah might be thirty-one years old to her twenty, but that didn’t give her the right to scold. “I’d rather be doing something exciting, like exploring ancient ruins.”

“That requires connections and a great deal of money.”

“I’ll get another job.”

Mariah looked unconvinced as she placed four cans of beans in her basket. “Jobs are difficult to find. I haven’t seen a posting anywhere in weeks.”

“The cannery in Belvidere is hiring.”

“And spend half your wage on train fare?” Mariah’s brown bobbed hair peeked out from under the brim of her blue tricorn hat. “I wish the orphanage could afford to pay you.”

“I wouldn’t take a nickel.” Anna knew how tight Constance House’s finances were. As director of the orphanage, Mariah scrimped and saved and solicited donations, but she could never make ends meet. The number of children had grown but not the funding.

“Thank you, dear.” Mariah lifted the lid on the barrel and examined the flour. “No weevils today. I’ll take five pounds,” she said to the clerk, who’d finished waiting on Mrs. Butterfield.

Anna noted Mariah’s long grocery list. “What can I get for you?”