“That I might stand ready on Judgment Day with a clear conscience where God is concerned. And as for us, that we might remake our relationship and renew the love that once bound us as father and son.”

“Did such love ever truly exist?” his father questioned. “From your first breath it seems you’ve been against me.”

Theodore hated him for the response. They had been at odds since the day Theodore was born. All he remembered of his father were rules and regulations. Long boring sermons at church and at home. Discipline that bordered on the edge of cruelty.

“I like to think it did,” Theodore forced himself to say.

“What I remember is rebellion and difficulty—a full-out rejection of the God I served and loved.”

“When I was a child, I thought as a child. The Bible allows for that, so why shouldn’t you?” Theodore fought to keep his voice gentle. “I come seeking forgiveness. Your God says that you must give it, lest you not receive it from Him.”

“My God? I thought you were claiming an association for yourself?”

Theo wanted to scream in frustration at his mistake, but instead he shrugged. “This is still new for me. For years you acted as though He were yours alone—that no one in this family could come to Him except through you. But even that I cast aside as my own misconception and hold you to no account.” He paused and gave a pleading look. “Will you let your anger at me estrange you from God Himself by refusing forgiveness?”

The last of his father’s wall seem to crumble. “Of course you have my forgiveness. I wouldn’t refuse any man that. I’ve only ever wished good for you, Theodore. I don’t know why you would think otherwise. What does it merit me to pray down condemnation on my own child?”

Theodore had often wondered that himself, but now wasn’t the time to question it. If he forced the issue and insisted that had been his father’s heart all these years, he wouldn’t be able to move forward and accomplish what he desired to do—which ultimately was to ruin this man and his precious Duluth once and for all.

Theodore smiled. “So may we start again? Would you perhaps extend a welcome and allow me to stay here with you while I begin work for my position with Mr. Jay Cooke?”

“You’ve been hired by Mr. Cooke?” His father’s arms relaxed to his side.

“I have. I’m assigned to Cooke’s representative in Duluth, Mr. Lucas Carson. I believe he has a brother, Scott Carson, who works as a fisherman here.”

Father’s expression grew grim. “He had a brother. The poor man was lost in the last storm. His ship, the Ana Eileen, went down.”

“The Womack fishing boat?”