“You like our town?”
“Very much so.”
“Might I interest you in a walk that doesn’t involve stopping to finger every outfit that catches your eye?” He grinned, and she blushed, knowing she’d gotten carried away purchasing items for the baby, given the unlimited funds. “Then, perhaps, afterward, we can enjoy lunch before heading back.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said. Daniel handed the last of the parcels off to Arthur at the carriage and then offered his arm to her.
Relief flooded Gwen when he was distracted by a cart that had pulled close, for she was sure he’d have heard the racing of her heart and felt the nervous spasm when her arm twitched at his touch. This would never do. Her nursing career was barely off the ground, and falling in love with her first patient was unthinkable. The Harrow School of Nursing would gain the reputation of being a matchmaking scheme rather than a place that gave women the opportunities to prove themselves with a worthy career choice. So many had graduated with the sole intention of living independently without the burden of home and family, and Gwen could not fail them.
She straightened her posture and concentrated on the beauty of God’s nature surrounding them. Huge trees, both leafy and evergreens, speckled the landscape, and the sun’s rays reflecting across the water cast its colors deep beneath the diamond-like glitters resting atop the tiny crests.
Gwen noticed a bench. “Can we sit for a moment? I am tired, and you must be exhausted. I’ve barely noticed your limp all morning.”
“Perfect. We can chalk exercise off your list of worries in the future. I believe the child and the project will take care of that.”
“Are you still excited about the new construction?”
“More than ever,” Daniel said. “As a matter of fact, I have an idea swirling around my head, which I’m certain my father will kill the moment I suggest it.”
“Tell me. I can be your practice run,” Gwen said.
“I’ve noticed a lot of the fields that were previously used to plant cotton have been turned over with an easier crop to harvest. Still, there is much acreage lying undeveloped without enough willing hands to do the work.”
“I understand that growing cotton is a long process, requiring a large number of skilled pickers at harvest time to successfully pluck the tender white fluff-balls off the plants without leaving blood samples on the prickly bush.”
“Yes,” Daniel agreed, “and we have a shortage of help at the plantation, now that my father has to pay them and begrudges every penny spent. I can’t seem to get it through his head that a man will work harder for his own gain than under fear of a whip.”
“I’ve noticed a lot of ex-slaves congregating on the other side of the lake. Obviously, not all have found employment.”
“I’ve noticed them, too. It got me thinking that I might not have to look too far to find workers for my new proposal.”
“Which is?” Gwen asked.
“Forestry. I hear the industry is picking up momentum. With all of the new building going on, there is quite a market for raw material,” Daniel said. “And we happen to have thousands of wooded acres ready to meet the demand.”
“Would you sell the logs to mills, or set up one yourself and serve the customers directly?” Gwen asked.
“Well, there is something to think about,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “Cut out the middleman.”
“In our travels today, I happened to notice building projects underway in this locale. I suppose Guntersville is not any different than many towns that have lost homes and businesses to the hand of fire-happy troops, thinking it fun to burn someone’s hard work to the ground.”
“Of course, the papers are full of the downtrodden cases, but there are also those who seek to rise above the devastation, people with money but floundering as to how to go about adapting and repositioning their businesses in these changing times.”
“Like your father, perhaps, who is angry at his losses and cannot figure out how to go forward—do you suppose that is what makes him so irritable?”
“It seems to come naturally to the man, but you’re probably right—he definitely prefers the old ways of doing things. He and many in the wealthy sector struggle with concrete plans as to how to maintain their margin of profit with having to pay for every service enabling them to continue in the comfortable lifestyle to which they are accustomed.”
“Another reason why he needs a son with modern ideas to come alongside and bring the family’s heritage into the next era,” Gwen said.
“Since my return, I haven’t taken an active interest in the goings-on—I’ve been too absorbed in myself, I have to admit—but Father may be receptive if I present a sure plan, one in which he can see green on the bottom line.” Daniel studied Gwen as he spoke, a new enthusiasm spilling into his words. “The mill is a good idea. We can use the river for power—it runs through our land. We can even use the water to transport some of the logs to our mill. Correct positioning of the enterprise will be an important factor for success. What doesn’t come by water, we can bring by wagons, or let the horses drag them to the mill.”
“You’ll need to research it, Daniel, and then present a detailed, flawless plan to your father. Tell him you will take charge of the new business: McAlister Forestry and Mill. Sounds delightful.” Gwen’s excitement matched his. “Not only will you and your family benefit, but the service will provide a solution to great need in our nation.”
“I shall do it!” Daniel exclaimed. “You have motivated me, woman, and I thank you for planting a dream in my soul.”
“Perhaps the presence
