A Path Toward Love

by Cara Lynn James

  Katherine fidgeted at her dressing table while Bridget took down her hair and brushed it for the required one hundred strokes. Randy’s playful grin filled her mind with warmth. He was a delightful gentleman—or should she say boy? He’d never truly grown up. He’d grown tall and handsome, but not mature. Yet how could a woman not find him appealing? He had everything she’d been taught to want—a pleasing personality, good looks, an enormous bank account, an illustrious family background, and an excellent education.

  All he lacked was seriousness of purpose and a deep intellect. But did those drawbacks really matter? If she gave in to the courtship, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about Randy ripping her feelings apart. He didn’t hold that kind of power over her.

  But was a courtship with him simply the easiest path? After a while would he fall short and bore her to tears? And how would he respond to the ups and downs, the trials and tragedies of life? Here in New York he was largely insulated, but struggle had a way of hunting everyone, missing not a one over time. When faced with adversity, would he crumble like Charles had and take up drinking or gambling—or womanizing? She didn’t have the inner resources to relive that disaster again.

  Only a man with integrity and firm convictions could satisfy her in the long run. If she ever left widowhood behind her, she wanted someone who cared enough to understand her spiritual yearnings, her need to place God at the center of her life. A man who’d help her to draw closer to Him and honor Him.

  And as much as she wanted to respect Mama’s wishes and her agreement with Papa, as much as she wanted to give Randy a fair chance to prove himself, her thoughts kept returning to another.

  Andrew.

  A few days later Katherine and thirty of Mama’s guests rode in Papa’s steam yacht across the lake to Camp Algonquin. Once they arrived at the rustic camp hemmed in by hills and dense woods, Katherine made her way up the sloping yard for the informal lawn party. She headed toward the main house, a sprawling log cabin, by far the largest of many outbuildings within the compound. Every few steps, old friends whom she hadn’t seen in many years waylaid her for a chat. More than a few were curious about Katherine’s daring elopement, but she skirted around intrusive questions with smiles and vague answers.

  She judged there were at least one hundred guests from neighboring camps milling around the lawn, the lodge, and the open porch. Small tables were set up under the spreading trees on rough ground littered with rocks of all sizes, twigs, and pine needles. Katherine inhaled the woodsy fragrance.

  Campers with heaping plates of food from the buffet wandered around, searching for empty tables. The guests wore their casual clothes, but Katherine recognized the high quality of the fabrics and exquisite workmanship of the ladies’ blouses and skirts. Most of the men were dressed alike in sack suits and caps or boaters, and they looked more comfortable than the ladies. Some of the older gentlemen leaned on canes as they made their way up from the boat dock to the sumptuous buffet spread across trestle tables on the porch.

  Katherine followed behind a gaggle of gray-beards who were nattering about the War they’d fought in their youth. Off to the side, she spotted Aunt Letty with a plate heaping with lake trout, lyonnaise potatoes, and spinach salad. Giggling with another elderly lady, Aunt Letty wandered down to the lawn with her ancient friend trailing right behind.

  Katherine took a china plate with hand-painted wildflowers, silverware, and a linen napkin from the end of the table laden with all kinds of tempting foods. She spooned creamed chicken, tomato aspic, and garden salad onto her plate and accepted a frosty glass of iced tea. The small round tables dotting the lawn all the way down to the edge of the lake were filling quickly. Maybe Aunt Letty wouldn’t mind if the three of them shared a table.

  Randy came up from behind and loomed over Katherine’s shoulder. “Will you join me, Kat? I’ve saved us a place by the maple tree.”

  “Thank you. I’d be delighted.” He’d chosen the smallest table with only two chairs. Eating by themselves wasn’t what she had in mind, but she couldn’t object now without sounding rude. Once they settled in their ladder-back chairs, Randy leaned toward her and drummed his fingers against the white damask tablecloth. Then he knotted his napkin. Katherine had never seen him quite so fidgety. She wouldn’t ask him why he was acting nervous because she felt sure she already knew. Her mother and his were watching them from a short distance away and murmuring behind their open fans. Their eyes lit with expectation.

  Randy made an effort to clear his throat. “Katherine, we’re great friends, aren’t we? I mean, we haven’t seen each other in years until recently, but you can’t ignore the past we shared. That’s right, isn’t it?” He leaned over his plate loaded with untouched roast beef, cold baked ham, and potato salad.

  She’d find his insecurity amusing, and maybe even endearing, if she didn’t know where his babbling was leading him in a roundabout way. “Of course we’re great friends.”

  She needed to head him off before he mumbled words they’d both regret. His unease spread to her and she found she’d crumbled her napkin like a handkerchief. “And I hope we’ll always remain friends no matter how our paths diverge in the future.” She couldn’t be any clearer, now could she?

  His face clouded with confusion. He probably expected encouragement instead. So she forged ahead, hoping to derail his momentum.

  “I’m afraid my destiny is in Florida. I’m quite determined to return.”

  From the tightening of his jaw, Randy understood all too well. His brow furrowed. “Of course. I understand that you must see things through there. But when you’re ready, surely you’ll return here to us . . .” His voice trailed off.

  She patted his hand. “Thank you, Randy. We’ll just have to wait and see what’s in store for us.” If anything. “I don’t know where the Lord will lead me in the future, but I’ll always cherish the childhood memories we’ve made. Do you remember playing in the tree house my father built by the meadow?” she asked. She took a sip of iced tea sweetened with sugar to moisten her dry throat.

  Randy brightened. “Of course. You and I had a grand time. Along with Andrew. But I also recall falling off that tree house roof and dislocating my collarbone.” His reached up and ran his fingers across it, as if it still hurt.

  “Remember when you got lost in the woods and I rescued you?” Katherine laughed at Randy’s chagrined expression. “And that winter’s day we built a snow fort in Central Park and I knocked you over with a gigantic snowball?”

  “I only pretended because I wanted to please you. You wanted to show all the boys how mighty you were.”

  They both laughed. “I was always trying to prove I was as brave and strong as you boys.”

  “You were, though your smaller size limited you. But you had the heart of a lion.”

  She cocked her head. “Even now I’m sure I can beat you in a tennis match. Would you like me to demonstrate after luncheon?”

  “Perhaps later. It’s too hot to overindulge in sports.” His gaze gleamed like the afternoon sunshine. “It’s good to see you returning to your old self. When you first came home I thought you were still mourning Charles. You looked so gloomy most of the time and kept to yourself. I didn’t know what to make of it.”

  “I’m slowly recovering. The mountains and the lake have done wonders for me.”

  He sat back, apparently short on any other words to persuade her. Together, they stared in awkward silence at the other guests.

  Along with a handful of young ladies and a few friends from his college days, Andrew lounged on one of the wicker chairs set in a semicircle at the end of the porch far from the buffet table. Smiling amiably, he’d said little while they all sipped lemonade and ginger beer from frosty tumblers. They were a privileged set that chatted about places in Africa and the Middle East he’d read about but hadn’t visited. While he envied their leisure pursuits, he didn’t envy the inevitable boredom that ensued in between.

  Andrew spotted Randy lea
ving the table he’d shared with Katherine and ambling up the lawn in their direction. When he got closer, Andrew called to him, “How was your lunch?”

  Randy shrugged. “Care for a short walk, cousin?” A frown knit his black eyebrows.

  “All right.” Andrew excused himself and followed his cousin across the lawn toward the deserted pier. “What’s wrong?”

  They strolled across sparse patches of grass interspersed with a thick carpet of pine needles. Tall aspen and white birch trees cast the yard in cool, deep shade. At the dock, small craft bobbed gently in sparkling blue waters. From here, Birchwood Lodge shrank to the size of a matchbox.

  “So, what is it, Randy?” Andrew asked. They came to the pier lined with visitors’ boats. Andrew leaned against the wall of the log boathouse and waited.

  Randy’s suntanned forehead creased with anxiety. “My mother has encouraged me—no, ordered me—to court Katherine. The sooner the better. Mother and Mrs. Wainwright insist upon an autumn engagement.”

  Andrew almost felt sorry for his cousin trapped in a situation he couldn’t handle through his usual methods—good humor and the light touch of charm. But he’d gladly switch places with him. “And?”

  “I don’t want a fall engagement. And clearly, Kat is intent upon returning to Florida.” He gave him a level stare. “I wished to visit the Breakers. I hold no desire to live in such godforsaken country.”

  Andrew shrugged. “So tell them. What’s so difficult about that?” He shouldn’t needle his cousin; he completely understood Randy’s dilemma. But at the age of twenty-eight, Randy should have the gumption to disagree with his mother and take charge of his own future. Choosing a mate was one of the most important decisions in life, and to leave it to one’s parent seemed not only ridiculous but also cowardly.

  “It pains me to admit this, especially to you, Andrew, but I’m leery of defying my mother. I know I sound like a mama’s boy— and maybe I am. The truth is, I’m just not anxious to settle down, even with a girl as grand as Kat. I have my entire life to marry. Fall is too soon. And so is next spring or next summer.”

  “So when would you want to settle down?” He had to choke out the words. Envy slithered through him and coiled around his ribs like a python. Shame over his jealousy soon followed.

  Randy shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be ready for marriage sometime in five or six years. It’s too soon to contemplate a date. She’s just returned home, and to tell you the truth, we hardly know each other anymore. Any connection we seem to have is based on childhood memories. And she has this mad idea about returning to Florida to see to the harvest . . .” He threw out his hands. “Why can’t she relinquish such tasks to a man? Why must she do it herself?”

  Andrew leaned back against the wall of the boathouse. “So . . . you didn’t bring up your mother’s desire for an autumn announcement?”

  Randy removed his boater and ran his fingers through his straight black hair parted in the middle. “I didn’t bring up marriage specifically. All right—I hemmed and hawed. But I got the distinct impression Katherine is no more interested in marriage than I am, at least not right now. When I hinted at my intentions she sounded lukewarm. Cold, actually. I’m sure we’ll settle down eventually and live happily ever after and all that. It’s inevitable, really. And if I must marry, I certainly don’t want to lose her.”

  Euphoria swelled inside Andrew’s chest until he thought he might burst with renewed hope. But at his cousin’s expense? That didn’t seem right. And in reality, there was still little hope for Katherine and himself, even without Randy in the picture. “Then I don’t see any problem,” he managed. “Simply tell your mothers you two aren’t ready.”

  Randy grunted. “They’re insistent. They won’t tolerate any defiance from either one of us.”

  “Stand up to them and assert yourself. You’re a grown man. Your mother can’t make you do anything.”

  Randy winced. “You know how formidable she and Mrs. Wainwright can be.” Randy heaved a long, desolate sigh, and his entire face drooped like a pair of baggy trousers. “The best solution is to wait until Katherine and I are both enthusiastic. Perhaps through the summer love will blossom, and we can agree to a marriage . . . with a long engagement.”

  “Possibly. But is there something else bothering you?” Andrew asked. Why did Randy still look so glum?

  Randy shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “If we don’t marry, Mother insists I go to work for Father. They’ll exile me to the bowels of the Clarke Building. I’ll be forced to learn the banking business from the ground up, literally. You know I have no head for finance and no interest either.”

  Andrew took a deep breath, understanding at last. So that was what drove him. They’d caught him in their web, but he could easily pull free with a small amount of effort. “Come now, Randy, a little work won’t kill you. Try it. You might find you like it. I do.”

  Randy glowered. “You’re not very helpful, you know. As for work, I’m not temperamentally suited for long, boring hours slaving over facts and figures.”

  “You mean you’re suited for spending money, not making it.” Andrew cocked a brow.

  Randy brightened. “Exactly. But stop making light of this. I might be lazy, but I’m not fool enough to think I could ever adapt to an office routine.”

  Andrew knew he should stop chiding Randy and express more empathy, but he couldn’t condone Randy’s sheer indolence. “All right. Then what are you suited for? Let’s consider it together. It has to be productive and satisfy your parents.”

  Randy’s shrugged and even his mustache seemed to droop. “Nothing, really. Perhaps I could learn to sculpt or make clay pots. Who knows, I might sell a few. Or give them to friends as Christmas gifts. You’d like one, wouldn’t you?”

  “I would. But you know your parents will consider that a hobby, not a job.” He thought of Katherine and her father’s reaction to the idea of her selling hats.

  Randy sighed and kicked the toe of his shoe into the pier. “The truth is I’m not suited for much of anything.”

  “But the beauty of being rich is you don’t have to be. Go to work for a while, then convince your parents you’re supposed to resume this life again and become a charming decoration.”

  “For goodness’ sake, Andrew, stop mocking me. I’m in a bind. Do you have any worthwhile suggestions?”

  Andrew shook his head, enjoying this far more than he should. “Truly, Randy. Call their bluff. Go and try working for a while. It will delay your mother’s demands and give you more opportunity to get to know Katherine . . . and see if you truly belong together.” Or discover she’s better suited to me.

  Randy drew out a melodramatic groan. “Maybe I should just bear down and convince Kat to marry me sooner rather than later.”

  Andrew’s legs wobbled. “You mean, simply give in?” His faint hope for his own relationship with Katherine sank.

  “What other choice do I have?”

  “Work! Go to work!” Andrew said, barely able to keep from shouting.

  Randy looked at him with chagrin and shook his head. “No, Andrew. I just can’t see it. Father would be dreadfully disappointed with me if I tried and failed. I would fail, you know. And I’ve already experienced enough of that to last a lifetime.”

  His words brought Andrew up short. What had brought Randy to such a low place? Surely this wasn’t God’s plan for him. Could it be that Katherine could help Randy find his way? Was she truly meant to be Randy’s wife, his helpmate? He put his hands on his head as if he could drive away the sudden pounding. Nothing, nothing seemed right, no matter which direction he turned.

  Taking a deep breath, Randy cast a pleading gaze at Andrew. “Do you think you could convince my mother to give up her scheme?”

  Andrew grunted. “You know as well as I do that your mother and Mrs. Wainwright won’t be crossed. I’m afraid nothing will change their minds. So reconsider working at the bank. That would be far preferable to marrying
before you’re ready. Really, Randy, think of Katherine, if not yourself. Her marriage to Charles . . .” He shook his head. “She deserves love and loyalty if she marries again.”

  Randy frowned at him. “Of course I’d treat her well. And she’d have anything she desired!” His frown turned into a petulant sulk. “One thing I know for certain. I will not work for my father. That’s a life sentence of dreariness.” He pulled at the corners of his mustache. “I suppose I’ll have to court her. No doubt her mother can persuade her to accept the idea, just as my mother did me. Sometimes, mothers truly do know best.”

  Randy hesitated before tilting his head and narrowing one eye. “Would you do me a favor, cousin?”

  “Anything,” Andrew said, before he really thought it through.

  “Talk to Kat. See if she’s interested in me, either now or in the future. See if this whole ‘heading back to Florida’ bit is merely a bluff.”

  Andrew considered him and then gave him a slow nod. “I’ll do it,” he said.

  Because he’d like to know the answer to that question too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  From under the leafy sugar maple, Katherine watched Andrew and Randy huddle on the dock like a pair of conspirators. What were they cooking up? Not a plot involving her, she hoped. She’d ask Andrew later if she caught him alone. Her eyes settled on him, alternately smiling and frowning at his cousin. Andrew had grown to be so handsome . . .

  She jerked her gaze back to Randy. Her earlier conversation with him had left her rattled. It took all her strength to keep from rushing down to the lake to insist he turn his romantic thoughts to someone else who’d truly make him happy. Someone who’d love and cherish him and appreciate his fortune and happily join him in his lackadaisical ways.

  He couldn’t truly be in love with her, could he? He didn’t look at her with nearly the same intensity—and affection—that Andrew did.

  The thought brought her up short. Remember the groves, Katherine, she told herself. But the more she repeated the phrase, the more her eyes wandered back to Andrew.