Embers of Love by Tracie Peterson

There would always be mending and sewing to see to, but Mother said they could tend to it on the second floor as well as on the first.
    Still, Deborah knew it was a sacrifice. The upstairs was much warmer in the summer, and while they saved most of their major sewing projects for the cooler winter months, it would still be less than ideal. Maybe in the future she could encourage her uncle and brothers to build a separate cabin for the office.
    With Lizzie’s help, the office took shape quickly. Deborah arranged a small desk, several chairs, and bookshelves, along with other things she would need. Now that she was settled, the trick was to interpret her uncle’s chicken-scratch notes. Often she found a few figures and a name without any other comment. Deborah was hard-pressed to know exactly what they meant, but she gradually began to recognize his style.
    She was just finishing tallies on May’s figures when her uncle and Mr. Perkins showed up at the door of the office. Uncle Arjan looked rather perplexed.
    “Sorry to bother you, Deborah, but Mr. Perkins has some papers for us to look over.”
    “Good to see you, Mr. Perkins. Come in,” Deborah said, putting down her pen. “Pull up a chair and tell me what you need.”
    “I told Arjan that I wanted someone in the family to read over this contract. One copy is for you and one’s for me. I need to have it signed to take with me when I go to Houston on Friday.”
    “A contract?” Most everything related to the business had always been done on a handshake. Contracts had never been needed among friends.
    Mr. Perkins looked rather embarrassed as he handed her the papers. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not my idea. The bank wants me to give them proof that I have a steady supply of logs pledged for production at the sawmill. I’m getting signatures from all my major providers.”
    Deborah began reading over the contract. “But why?” she asked without thinking. She glanced up and smiled. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
    The older man shook his head. “Not at all. Like I said, I know this comes as a surprise. Here’s the situation: I want to double the size of the mill.”
    “Double?” She looked at her uncle. “Would that mean we would have to double our output, and double the number of employees, as well?”
    “It would definitely mean adding people,” her uncle replied.
    Mr. Perkins moved forward. “See, I need to get a pledge of so many logs so I can project our board feet. This becomes a sort of collateral for the bank. They will see the contract agreements as a promise of production and your agreement to sell only to me, and in turn they can feel safe in loaning me the money I need for the expansion.”
    Deborah couldn’t begin to imagine what that would do to the size of their small community. “I suppose you will have to bring in additional stores and housing for the workers, as well.”
    “Yes indeed. I’ll be adding at least another ten houses right away, with plans for twenty more. Now that we have the new doctor – not that folks will go see him – ” he muttered under his breath, “the missus wants me to think about bringing in a full-time preacher and maybe build a regular icehouse.”
    “All of those things would be very nice, especially with additional workers.” Deborah looked at the papers again, and then to her uncle. “Has Mr. Perkins gone over the numbers with you?”
    Uncle Arjan nodded. “He did.”
    “And are you in agreement with that number?” She glanced down to look at the figures once more. “It says here that you’ll provide logs with a potential of ten thousand board feet a day until the mill’s first phase of additions is complete. After that, you’ll increase to fifteen thousand, and after phase two and the completion of all additions, you’ll increase to at least twenty thousand board feet a day, with bonuses paid if you go over your quota. Oh, and it’s all to be paid in cash rather than