ANGELINA’S R E S O LV E Village of Women Book One
C I N D Y E RV I N H U F F
Smitten Historical Romance is an imprint of LPCBooks a division of Iron Stream Media 100 Missionary Ridge, Birmingham, AL 35242 ShopLPC.com Copyright © 2021 by Cindy Ervin Huff All rights reserved. First printing 2021. Cover design by Hannah Linder Designs No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. Iron Stream Media serves its authors as they express their views, which may not express the views of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination or are used for fictional purposes. Any mentioned brand names, places, and trademarks remain the property of their respective owners, bear no association with the author or the publisher, and are used for fictional purposes only. Library of Congress Control Number: 2021940075 All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version. ISBN-13: 978-1-64526-336-4 Ebook ISBN: 978-1-64526-337-1
PRAISE FOR ANGELINA’S RESOLVE Cindy Ervin Huff has done it again! Angelina’s Resolve is a compelling tale of a female architect who is cut out of her family business, so she puts her knowledge and skills toward creating her own “village of women.” With memorable characters, plenty of conflict, and several twists and turns, you won’t want to miss this exciting story. ~Jennifer Uhlarik Winner of the Will Rogers Medallion Award for Sand Creek Serenade Cindy Ervin Huff ’s delightful book shows the fortitude of women literally building their own town in 1860s Kansas. Readers who like strong women characters who overcome adversaries will enjoy Angelina’s journey toward proving her worth—and falling in love. ~Sarah Hamaker Author of Illusion of Love Historical romance fans are sure to enjoy this heart-warming tale from Cindy Huff that showcases the bravery, fortitude, and power of a community of women willing to forge a place for themselves. Journey to Resolve and see what happens as this eclectic group strives to build Angelina’s dream of the best civilization has to offer in the middle of the prairie. ~Candee Fick Author of the Within the Castle Gates Series Author Cindy Huff has crafted another winning title in Angelina’s Resolve. Take a female architect with a strong dose of independence and a strong will, then add in a carpenter with entrepreneurial aspirations following the Civil War, and you have certain drama in the works. Neither wants to back down, yet both have protective
feelings for the other. Can—should—will they realize the depth of their emotions? No spoiler alert here, except to praise Huff for her well-written, tender story of love and healing. Loved the details of history that added to the characters and the story. ~Donna Schlachter Author of Double Jeopardy and other historicals
DEDICATION To my daughter-in-law, Anabelle Lotao Huff, engineer and the smartest woman I know
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I
am so grateful for my husband, Charles Huff, who reads every word many times and encourages me along the journey. He listens to me talk about my characters as if they are real without thinking me crazy. Without my ACFW Scribes242 critique group and Word Weavers critique groups, this manuscript would still be an idea in my head. Special thanks to Denise Weimer for her awesome editing and Iron Stream Media for believing in my story enough to give me a contract. I give the highest praise to my Lord Jesus for giving me the gift of storytelling.
CHAPTER 1
Chicago, July 1868
T
he paneled walls pressed in on Angelina DuBois as she listened to the reading of her father’s will. Her corset prevented her from taking the deep breath necessary to gain control. She patted her perfectly coiffured hair, searching for a stray tendril to occupy her fidgety fingers. The lawyer’s droning tone hammered into her soul with the words, “I, Robert Archibald DuBois, leave DuBois Architectural Interests to my nephew, Hiram Oswald DuBois, in accordance with my late brother John Henry DuBois’ Last Will and Testament, bequeathing the firm to his son after my death.” Hiram straightened, and a smug smile formed on his face. No! Angelina pressed her lips tight to keep from screaming. Father had promised. He promised the company to her. She wrestled slumping shoulders into submission and straightened her spine. In the end, Father couldn’t retract his promise to his dying brother, even if it meant Hiram’s inept leadership would be disastrous for DuBois Architectural. The balding lawyer with hairy jowls took her hand in his sweaty palm. “My condolences, Miss DuBois. Your father was a fine man.” “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Pruitt.” Hiram shook Mr. Pruitt’s hand, then hurried to take her arm before she could put distance between them. His tall, gangly frame hovered too close. She pulled her arm free and turned to face him on the street in front of the law firm. “I assume I’ll be your assistant as I was Father’s?” The irksome thought 1
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produced bile in her throat. Father’s failing sight had required her help in sketching his designs. She’d corrected many of Hiram’s mistakes. Now he would get even more accolades from her work. Hiram pointed to a nearby bench. A gentleman would have wiped off the seat with his handkerchief. Her cousin was no gentleman. She inspected the bench before sitting. He leaned over her, adjusting his top hat while his leering eyes traveled over her frame. You don’t intimidate me, you dolt. She scowled at him, placed her reticule in her lap, and crossed her arms. “Are we going to discuss my role in the firm? Am I to be your assistant, or do you have another position for me?” A you-poor-thing pout appeared on his face. “No to both. A woman in that position would be very inappropriate. Uncle Robert may have indulged you, but I will not. Clean out your office tomorrow.” “You’re firing me?” Her outburst drew curious glances from two children who scampered by, playing tag, as an emotional tug-of-war raced through her. The horrid cockroach fires me after all I’ve done to ensure his designs were flawless. Hiram sat beside her and adjusted his cravat. “Dear Angelina, I believe your time would be better spent securing a husband.” He touched her face. Angelina quavered and moved away. “Perhaps you might consider marriage to me.” And let you get your hands on the DuBois fortune? The notion of marriage to her adopted first cousin was repugnant. Doves cooed in the trees. The urge to throw a rock at the innocent creatures flickered in her mind. Angelina rose and straightened the front of her skirt. “I am long past the age of majority, and you have no hold over my life. Father left me a sizable inheritance and the skills to manage it. Financially, I’ll be comfortable for the rest of my days. I’ll not be seeking a husband anytime soon, if ever. I shall empty my office this afternoon. Good day.” She glared at him one last time, then strode toward home. Angelina’s high-top shoes beat a pace of irritation. It might be 2
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unseemly for a woman to walk in public unescorted, but a lorry ride would cover the distance before her mind had calmed. Men were such selfish brutes. Even though Father had indulged her wish to get an architectural degree, she’d never used it. Then his fading eyesight made her his assistant. All her designs bore his name. Not even Hiram knew Father’s secret. Never will another man have control over my life.
Angelina sat stoically in her sitting room, her chest constricted. Her personal maid and friend, Bridget O’Malley, poured tea while her best friend, Teresa Shilling, stirred her cup. Both eyed her with concern, the sentiment comforting yet annoying. Her mind and heart had not settled enough to enjoy Teresa’s weekly visit. She took a deep breath, then sipped her tea. Teresa leaned forward. “Why so glum?” She reached for a finger sandwich and nibbled as she focused on Angelina and waited. “I’m not glum.” Angelina gave a wooden smile, then focused on wiping imagined crumbs from her black satin gown. “Look at me.” Teresa, a widow several years her senior, had a tone that commanded attention. Her taffeta gown ruffled as she moved to capture Angelina’s chin in her hand. “Angelina Elizabeth DuBois, you can’t keep secrets from me.” Angelina moved her chin, sighed, and stirred her tea absentmindedly. “I don’t wish to cast aspersions …” “Talking about my troubles always makes me feel better.” Teresa smiled and nodded encouragement. “Tell her, ma’am.” Bridget rarely spoke without being addressed in the presence of Angelina’s guests, but now her face creased with concern. “You’ve had a grave injustice thrust upon ye. Don’t let it press ye down.” “Hear, hear.” Teresa clapped her approval. Angelina sighed in surrender. She motioned for Bridget to sit 3
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by her. Surrounded by her two dearest friends, she cried bitter tears, then recounted the events of the previous day. “Hiram is a greedy scarecrow trying to wear the DuBois name like a king’s crown.” “I’m relieved you did not agree to marry the braggart.” Bridget patted Angelina’s hand. “The thought gives me shivers.” Teresa shook away the imagined discomfort. “I have no need for a man, particularly one of his ilk.” Angelina wiped her eyes with her lace hankie. “What will I do? I love designing buildings. No one will hire me.” “What about the buildings all over town you designed?” Teresa straightened and lifted her teacup. “My father or Hiram’s names are on those designs. I’ve no portfolio to share with a potential client.” “Why not start your own firm? You could show ’em all.” Bridget rose and retrieved the teapot. “Let me warm your tea a bit.” “I said I have no portfolio.” “Then buy some land and build something.” Teresa cocked her head to the side and smiled. Her enthusiasm spread to Angelina. “I’ve been reading in the paper the many editorials by Horace Greeley regarding utopian experiments.” Bridget offered them a plate of cookies. “You mean the communes?” She took her place again. “Don’t look so surprised—I read the paper.” “I have no interest in a commune run by controlling, idealistic men.” Angelina scoffed as she reached for a sandwich, her appetite returning with the free flow of ideas. “Build one run by women. We both know how difficult it is for educated women to make their way. Greeley is a great example of male hypocrisy. He supported antislavery legislation before the war but does not support women’s suffrage.” Teresa huffed. “We women need the right to vote, show them what’s what.” Bridget brought her hands together with a loud clap. 4
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“That sounds interesting. But I don’t want to build a commune.” The clock chimed three, and three male figurines slid to the clock face and sawed wood, then slid back inside when the chime completed. Angelina stared at the clock as an idea formed. “What about a town? I could design the layout of the streets and parks, the building designs.” Teresa began to pace. “A town where women own the businesses and govern the city. I’ve always wanted to run for mayor.” “’Twould be quite an undertaking, ma’am, but yer up to the task.” Bridget cleared away the empty plate. “How would we persuade people to move to this town?” Angelina’s mind began to fill with creative designs. “I don’t want to create a utopia, just a nice place for families and a legacy for DuBois Architecture that is still standing after Hiram destroys what Father built. The idea of women owning businesses and running things is appealing.” Hiram’s sour expression entered her musing. “Yes, I like it a lot.” “While you’re planning this, ma’am, can me and my friends find opportunity in your town? I always wanted to open a bakery.” “You are a wonderful baker. I’ve the only personal maid who makes cookies for my guests.” Angelina hugged Bridget. “Of course, in the spirit of women’s suffrage, let’s find a way to make it easy for even women with less education to succeed.” “Aye, ma’am, if we put our heads together, we shall.” Bridget fisted her hand, cocked her elbow, and punched the air. A satisfied smile appeared on her face. “There is so much to be done. I’ll need help with the legal end. Teresa, don’t you have a law degree?” “Indeed, I do. I wrote all my late husband’s legal and business contracts. I even litigated a suit defending my husband’s manufacturing plant against a disgruntled employee. We won, of course.” Teresa bowed, then slumped in her chair. “Although the only other time was defending my right to inherit my late husband’s estate.” “Well, Attorney Shilling, now is your chance. We’ve a lot to do before we can advertise for residence.” 5
CHAP TER 2
Chicago, October 1868
E
dward Pritchard reached the door of his flat and wrenched off his tie. Three rejections on the same day. He knew how to build, but the snobbish businessmen preferred to hire established companies. His work in the Army Corps of Engineers didn’t seem to matter to prospective clients either. Those six years of military service could never be reclaimed. The smell of bean soup filled the apartment. His sister, Caroline, sat at the table, her blonde locks draped over her face as she perused the newspaper. Papers cluttered the kitchen table. “It smells like you’ve managed to not burn dinner while you research ideas for articles.” Caroline rose and kissed his cheeks. “By your expression, there is no good news? And yes, I am trying my hand at writing an article for the Chicago Times.” Edward picked up her pages. “An exposé on the evils of drink.” He winked at her. “Writing from experience?” He laughed, and she gave him a playful swat. “I’m using the pen name C.A. Pritchard.” Caroline stroked an imaginary mustache. “Good luck, then.” Maybe the Times would be more open to her talents than architecture firms had been to his. “Brother, you’ll find work. We still have funds from Father’s estate to sustain us for the year. Surely, a job will come before then. Maybe C.A. Pritchard will get hired by the Times.” Edward appreciated her youthful optimism. If it were a tonic, 6
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he’d be drinking it by the gallon. Caroline set the table, and Edward poured water into the wash basin and cleaned the grime of the city from his face and hands. “Can you be a dear and drop my article by the paper tomorrow?” “Why not do it yourself ?” Edward’s plans for the next day took him in the opposite direction. “We both know articles on important issues written by women are not taken seriously. I refuse to write about garden parties and the latest fashion. If you drop it by, they will assume C.A. Pritchard is a man.” Caroline’s hopeful expression as she held her hands in a prayerful plea always turned his resolve to mush. “Fine.” Edward sighed and began stacking all the papers in a pile to make room for soup bowls. “I might place an advertisement for my carpentry service while I am there. Perhaps some companies of note will see the ad. Those contracts could open doors to build for the wealthy and influential. And a few smaller jobs would put more money in our bank account for the present.” “Very wise.” Caroline smiled and placed steaming bowls of bean soup and a plate of store-bought bread on the table. Edward poured milk into two crystal glasses. After grace, only the sound of the mantel clock accompanied their meal. “Let me show you …” Caroline plucked the newspaper from the stack of papers. “I found a job you might be interested in.” She folded the paper to reveal only the ad. “I’m thinking about applying.” He continued to eat as he read, then stared at Caroline. “Is this a joke?” He pulled the paper closer to examine the print in more detail. “A quarter-page ad of foolishness.” He flung it down and resumed eating. “Edward Alan Pritchard, I thought you were a more openminded, modern-thinking man.” When he ignored her, Caroline scooped up the paper and read aloud. “‘Seeking women of many skills, education, and backgrounds to populate a new town in Kansas. I am looking for qualified women to run a variety of businesses 7
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such as a bank, mercantile, and newspaper. Prospects with skills in retail, medical, legal, and livery may present a résumé and three letters of recommendation. Purveyors of many other occupations are welcome to apply. My goal is to design a well-appointed town and give women a chance to succeed in their chosen careers. I am also seeking builders of good reputation who are not only skilled but of a nature to respect a female employer. Men will be evaluated on a case-by-case basis. We welcome families. Farmland is also available. This will be a dry town that supports women’s suffrage. Those of a different persuasion need not apply.” Edward bookended her impassioned reading with a long slurp of milk. Caroline sighed and held the paper to her chest. “Does that not sound perfect? I could run the newspaper, and you could build the town.” “You’re serious.” “Look at the signature at the bottom of the advertisement.” Edward grabbed the paper. “Angelina DuBois.” His mind churned to place the familiar name. “That’s not—” “Yes, the daughter of Robert DuBois of DuBois Architectural Interests. He passed and left DuBois Architectural Interests to his nephew, Hiram DuBois.” Caroline leaned forward. “According to Mary Allen, who heard from her cousin who works in the DuBois mansion as a chambermaid, Miss DuBois is an architect in her own right. She assisted her father. And they say Hiram couldn’t design a chicken coop.” Now that put things in a different light. “I wonder if she’s got a female builder in mind.” Edward pushed his chair back and started pacing. “If I could persuade her to hire me, I’d have a nice project under my belt with the DuBois name on it.” His pacing ended, and he stared at his sister. “Or … every opportunity might be closed to me because I worked for a woman.” “Don’t fret so, Eddie. I’m going to work on my résumé after dinner. Maybe I won’t be an editor, but surely, she needs a reporter.” 8
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“Who will be your three references? You haven’t actually gotten an article published.” “Miss Hyatt, my English instructor, already gave me a lovely letter of recommendation when I graduated. Miss Harriet, our neighbor, would surely write a character reference. And of course, you, dear brother, will write a wonderful letter about my diligence and determination.” Their laughter eased his discouraged heart. Edward already had several letters of recommendation. Would this woman even bother to read them? All his past interviews hadn’t resulted in the seals even being broken on the envelopes. Still … he couldn’t believe he was willing to give this fool scheme a whirl. “Well, let’s clean up and clear away space on the table. We have work to do.”
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