Read Online No Distance Too Far by Lauraine Snelling - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lauraine Snelling
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owner.”
“The man purported to be Harlan Jeffers. Jeffers is my father’s and, of course, our family’s last name. My father disappeared on a trip west, so I came looking for him. I hoped and prayed the man I’d heard was here was my father. It wasn’t. That man had somehow appropriated my father’s name and took the money he had with him.”
“So you caught him?”
“No. He was encouraged to leave here by the good folks of Blessing and was gone before I came to town.”
Miss Christopherson stopped at their table. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m glad to see you have met. Supper tonight is baked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. How will that suit you?”
“Are there choices?” Mr. Jeffers asked.
“Yes. You take it, or I could look for some leftovers from dinner for you.” She smiled.
“Chicken sounds fine. It smells wonderful.”
“Mrs. Sam is the cook here, and this boardinghouse is known all up and down the railroad as the place to get a good meal.” Joshua looked up at Miss Christopherson. “I’ll have the chicken too.”
She nodded and glanced back at Jeffers. “Mr. Landsverk usually has coffee. Is that all right with you?”
“Yes, of course.”
When she moved on to the next table, Jeffers watched her. “They are fortunate to have such a good staff here.” He turned back to Joshua. “Do you want to hear more?”
“I do.”
“When I learned of the havoc the imposter Jeffers had wreaked here in Blessing, I was more determined than ever to clear my father’s name. And to find him, or at least a trace of him. So I took the train back East, stopping in every town the train stopped at and asking the same questions. Did a man named Harlan Jeffers stop here during the fall of last year? I’d go to the saloons, the sheriff’s office, the banks, any public place. When I left, I always made sure everyone had my address just in case.”
Miss Christopherson set their plates before them, and Lily Mae filled their coffee cups. “Anything else, gentlemen?”
“Thank you. This looks delicious,” Mr. Jeffers said.
Joshua was intrigued. What a story this was. “Did you ever find a trace?”
Mr. Jeffers shook his head. “I went back home for the winter and to set my father’s affairs in order, assuming that since he had never contacted us, he was dead. He would never willingly treat my mother like that—not let us know where he was, I mean—let alone his business associates.”
“What did your father do?”
“He worked for a farming machinery company and invented things on the side. He’d received some encouragement on improvements to a seeder and was checking on a list of possible partners.”
“And he just disappeared?” Joshua cut his chicken and took a bite. “Was he sick at all?”
“No, at least not that we knew of. He was forty-seven years old. They say I look just like him. He had just been paid for a good sale and said he would be heading for home after another two stops.”
“From where?”
“He didn’t say. And I didn’t think to ask. Two years ago the telephone was such a new device that I always marveled I could even be talking that many miles apart.”
“So you’ve talked with the people he saw last?”
“Yes, in Alexandria and Fargo. After that I’m not sure if he headed north or continued west. When I heard of a man in Blessing with the name of Jeffers, I came on up here. And now I am back.”
“Why did you come back?”
“I liked the people here. They made me feel welcome, and I . . .” He paused. “I feel like I owe them something. Crazy, I know. But that phony Jeffers tarnished my family’s name here. My mother has gone to live with my sister and her husband, and I don’t want to live in that big old house alone. So on one hand I’m searching for information on my father, and I guess on the other . . . well, I liked it here. ’Bout time I settled down, as my mother reminds me. Besides, Thorliff and Haakan Bjorklund purchased a
“The man purported to be Harlan Jeffers. Jeffers is my father’s and, of course, our family’s last name. My father disappeared on a trip west, so I came looking for him. I hoped and prayed the man I’d heard was here was my father. It wasn’t. That man had somehow appropriated my father’s name and took the money he had with him.”
“So you caught him?”
“No. He was encouraged to leave here by the good folks of Blessing and was gone before I came to town.”
Miss Christopherson stopped at their table. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’m glad to see you have met. Supper tonight is baked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. How will that suit you?”
“Are there choices?” Mr. Jeffers asked.
“Yes. You take it, or I could look for some leftovers from dinner for you.” She smiled.
“Chicken sounds fine. It smells wonderful.”
“Mrs. Sam is the cook here, and this boardinghouse is known all up and down the railroad as the place to get a good meal.” Joshua looked up at Miss Christopherson. “I’ll have the chicken too.”
She nodded and glanced back at Jeffers. “Mr. Landsverk usually has coffee. Is that all right with you?”
“Yes, of course.”
When she moved on to the next table, Jeffers watched her. “They are fortunate to have such a good staff here.” He turned back to Joshua. “Do you want to hear more?”
“I do.”
“When I learned of the havoc the imposter Jeffers had wreaked here in Blessing, I was more determined than ever to clear my father’s name. And to find him, or at least a trace of him. So I took the train back East, stopping in every town the train stopped at and asking the same questions. Did a man named Harlan Jeffers stop here during the fall of last year? I’d go to the saloons, the sheriff’s office, the banks, any public place. When I left, I always made sure everyone had my address just in case.”
Miss Christopherson set their plates before them, and Lily Mae filled their coffee cups. “Anything else, gentlemen?”
“Thank you. This looks delicious,” Mr. Jeffers said.
Joshua was intrigued. What a story this was. “Did you ever find a trace?”
Mr. Jeffers shook his head. “I went back home for the winter and to set my father’s affairs in order, assuming that since he had never contacted us, he was dead. He would never willingly treat my mother like that—not let us know where he was, I mean—let alone his business associates.”
“What did your father do?”
“He worked for a farming machinery company and invented things on the side. He’d received some encouragement on improvements to a seeder and was checking on a list of possible partners.”
“And he just disappeared?” Joshua cut his chicken and took a bite. “Was he sick at all?”
“No, at least not that we knew of. He was forty-seven years old. They say I look just like him. He had just been paid for a good sale and said he would be heading for home after another two stops.”
“From where?”
“He didn’t say. And I didn’t think to ask. Two years ago the telephone was such a new device that I always marveled I could even be talking that many miles apart.”
“So you’ve talked with the people he saw last?”
“Yes, in Alexandria and Fargo. After that I’m not sure if he headed north or continued west. When I heard of a man in Blessing with the name of Jeffers, I came on up here. And now I am back.”
“Why did you come back?”
“I liked the people here. They made me feel welcome, and I . . .” He paused. “I feel like I owe them something. Crazy, I know. But that phony Jeffers tarnished my family’s name here. My mother has gone to live with my sister and her husband, and I don’t want to live in that big old house alone. So on one hand I’m searching for information on my father, and I guess on the other . . . well, I liked it here. ’Bout time I settled down, as my mother reminds me. Besides, Thorliff and Haakan Bjorklund purchased a
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