To Love and Cherish

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To Love and Cherish Page 10

by Tracie Peterson


  “Go to him?” Mrs. Mifflin croaked the words from between her dry lips. “And what will you do once you find him? Get married? He hasn’t even proposed marriage. What if he was simply dallying with your affections? You’ll be giving up your position here in Cleveland, and you’ll have no way to support yourself.”

  “Evan hasn’t been dallying with my affections. He is a sincere and wonderful man, and I know he will marry me.” Anger welled in her chest. How dare this woman toss about such accusations? She only knew Evan as a servant to order about—not as a man of honor and love.

  Mrs. Mifflin toyed with her fan for a moment. “Perhaps he will. But what if he died in the storm? Then what will you do?” Her eyes sparkled as though she almost wished him dead. “If you leave me, I won’t give you a letter of reference, and if you come back to Cleveland, I’ll see that you won’t find employment. You need to consider your decision carefully, Melinda. Even if one of the wealthy Georgia matrons decided to hire a Northern girl, she’d require exemplary references.”

  Melinda’s stomach roiled as the woman slung her angry threats. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Evan might not want to marry her. And she hadn’t let herself think that he might be dead. Injured perhaps, but not dead. The thought that she might encounter any of those circumstances caused a ripple of fear to march up and down her spine. “ ‘For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.’ ” She murmured the words from Second Timothy.

  “What was that?” Mrs. Mifflin cupped her hand behind one ear. “Did you say you’re of sound mind? If that be the case, then I know you’ve decided to remain in Cleveland.”

  Melinda shook her head. “I said that God has not given me a spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. It’s a verse from the Bible. And it means that I am leaving on the next train. Should I need a reference in the future, I hope that you will reconsider your ill feelings and give an honest report. If not, I will put my trust in God.”

  Mrs. Mifflin pushed to her feet and stepped forward until the two of them were nose to nose. “I will do exactly as I’ve promised. You may depend upon it! And don’t think that you may use my carriage to take you to the train station. The staff is here to serve me, not an ungrateful servant.”

  Melinda took a backward step. “I hadn’t considered imposing upon you or your staff, Mrs. Mifflin. I’ve sent for a hansom cab.” Mrs. Mifflin gave a disgruntled huff and made her way to the stairs.

  “You’ll regret not treating me fairly.”

  Melinda didn’t remind the woman that it was her lies and those of Mr. Mifflin that were most unfair. The woman’s threats frightened Melinda but weren’t enough to outweigh her fears for Evan and his well-being. Melinda opened her mouth to call after Mrs. Mifflin and remind her of the pay she owed for the previous week. It was money Melinda very much needed. She hesitated a moment longer watching the woman retreat.

  She’ll never pay me.

  Mrs. Mifflin disappeared upstairs. There was no possibility the angry woman would hand over money now—especially since Melinda had failed to give any notice. It was no doubt the first of many sacrifices she would have to make in order to reach Evan. Drawing a deep breath, Melinda knew that the time had come to leave. Her hands trembled as she reached for her cases.

  “I’ll take those out to the front for you, Melinda.” Matthew smiled at her. “She’s gone upstairs and will never know. Besides, I don’t care if she does. It’s only right that I help you.”

  Sally, Mary, and several other servants tiptoed down the hall to bid her good-bye and wish her well while Matthew carried her baggage to the front sidewalk. Tears threatened, but she swallowed hard and forced them to remain at bay. Matthew waited by her side until the cab arrived and then helped her inside. “You take care, Melinda, and be sure to write. We’ll all want to be hearing from you. I can’t read, but you know Sally can read real good.” His lips curved in a lopsided grin.

  He lifted his hat and waved as the carriage pulled away. She swiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek. Though she felt no sorrow in leaving Mr. and Mrs. Mifflin, she would miss all of the servants—even Sally and her snooping ways. The impact of what she’d just done settled over her as she leaned back against the leather carriage seat. Had she made a terrible mistake? Would Evan be angry that she’d come? One question after another popped into her head, each one more frightening than the last. Her lightweight gloves were damp with perspiration, and her heart pounded in her ears like a gonging bell. “Please, Lord, take away my spirit of fear and replace it with your power.”

  She lurched forward as the carriage jolted to a stop in front of the train station. The cab driver jumped down, opened the door, and helped her down. “You want me to take that trunk and your bags inside the station?” Before she could answer, he continued. “Cost ya extra if I do.”

  She nodded and motioned for him to assist her. She directed him to place the baggage near the ticket counter, handed him several coins from her reticule, and stepped to the window.

  The ticket agent offered a beleaguered smile. “Where to, ma’am?”

  “Biscayne, Georgia. Two tickets.”

  He looked up and stared at her for a moment. “Can’t get you into Biscayne. There’s been a hurricane. No trains in or out. I can get you as far as Savannah, but there’s no trains beyond that point.”

  Her heart plummeted. She didn’t know how they’d get from Savannah to Biscayne, but perhaps Lawrence would have some ideas. They’d have enough time that perhaps he could come up with a plan.

  “That’s fine. I’ll take two tickets to Savannah.” Of course, she knew it had to be fine. She had no other choice. She paid for the tickets, located a porter to take care of her baggage, and began her search for Lawrence.

  The clock struck the half hour and still there was no sign of Lawrence. She paced the station, looking in every direction, praying he would appear. As the clock ticked on, she walked to the front doors and out of the station. She’d turned to return inside when she saw a huge black horse racing toward the station at breakneck speed. The rider waved his hat overhead.

  She stared at the sight, unable to believe her eyes. Was it? Could it be? She narrowed her eyes as horse and rider drew closer. It was! Lawrence was riding the horse like a jockey intent on winning a race. Moments later he was in front of the station, pulling back on the reins until the horse came to an abrupt halt.

  Her brother grinned down at her. “I bet you thought I wasn’t going to make it, but here I am.” He leaned forward and patted the horse’s neck. “And this big fellow is coming along with us.”

  Words failed her.

  CHAPTER 11

  Three days had passed before Old Sam appeared at the hunting lodge. “Thought I better get across the river and see how you fared through the storm. I woulda come sooner, but things is a mess, and I’ve been waitin’ to make sure the tides had settled for good.” He scratched his head and glanced about. “I took a look in the boathouse ’fore I came inland. Some of the boats took quite a beatin’, but I was glad to see the dock wasn’t damaged too bad. At least boats can tie up and folks can get on and off board.”

  Harland nodded. “We’ve been down there to look things over, Sam. We’ll get to the repairs as soon as we can, but right now, those boats aren’t on the top of the list.”

  In spite of Alfred’s and Evan’s best efforts, some of the launches belonging to the investors had been severely battered, and all had taken on water when several beams and three-quarters of one wall of the boathouse had given way.

  “Come on in and sit down. We got a pot of coffee, and I’d like to hear what you can tell us about Biscayne.”

  The fisherman followed Harland inside and settled in the sitting room. “The storm hit pretty bad, but it was worse further south. Least that’s the news I’m hearin’ from off the fishing boats coming in the past two days. There’s no electricity and lots of damage along the wharves. The winds
shifted away from Bridal Veil and slammed into us with more force.” He shook his head. “Lots of folks suffered big losses, but only two dead at last report.”

  According to Sam, there were supplies available that hadn’t been ruined in the storm, but after hearing the older man describe the loss and damage, Evan had his doubts. “We’re going to need to hire workers. You think there will be any men wanting to work here on the island?” Evan arched his brows and waited. He worried most of the men would be hiring out in Biscayne.

  “Don’t think you’ll have much problem. Be jest like all the other storms. Word spreads north, and men make their way down here ’cause they need money.” He took a drink of his coffee. “I’m jest glad to see things is all right here—or as good as they can be after a hurricane. If you fellas is wantin’ to come over to Biscayne, I can come back and get ya in a day or two. Bring a list of the supplies you need. Should be plenty of workers coming in by then.”

  Their list of needs would be long, and it certainly couldn’t be filled in one order, but the man spoke with enough authority that Evan said he’d be thankful to have Sam return for them.

  While they continued to visit, neither Evan nor Harland mentioned Alfred’s death. The two of them had agreed they would deliver the news to his family themselves. But if Old Sam carried word there’d been no injuries or deaths on the island, Alfred’s parents might receive that false report. If so, it would be a double cruelty for Evan and Harland to show up and deliver news of their son’s death.

  Evan finally decided he must say something before Sam departed. Relating the story took more out of him than he’d imagined. When he finished, his body ached as though he’d been beaten. “Please say nothing until we have a chance to speak with Alfred’s parents ourselves.”

  “You got my word. I won’t say a thing. It’s best they hear it from you, but I’m guessing his father will miss the boy’s pay more than he’ll miss the boy.” Sam had ferried Alfred back and forth from time to time. He knew Alfred had no desire to live at home—and he knew why, as well.

  Before Sam departed, Evan handed him a letter to Melinda. If she knew of the storm, he didn’t want her to worry. “Don’t expect her to get it for a while,” Sam cautioned. “The rails are out from below Savannah to Jacksonville, so there’s no trains running and no mail coming in or going out.” There was no way of knowing when the rails would be repaired or how soon the trains would be back on schedule, but Evan hoped word of the hurricane wouldn’t cause Melinda to worry unnecessarily or to do anything rash.

  The following day, Harland dropped to the couch and rested his head on the cushioned frame. “I’ve decided it’s time for me to give up my job here at Bridal Veil. I’m just too old to carry this heavy load, Evan. There comes a time when a man knows it’s time to look for work that suits his age, and my time has come. This place needs someone younger, not an old man like me.”

  “That’s just weariness talking. All this damage from the hurricane has you worn down. I wish we could see more progress, too, but it’s been only a few days. We’ll get the job done. Besides, you’re not old, Harland.” Evan hoped to see some sign of agreement from his friend and mentor, but the older man’s weary expression didn’t change.

  Delilah brushed past Evan, jumped onto the couch, and settled in Harland’s lap. The older man combed his fingers through the cat’s thick fur. “It’s more than the storm. My bones ache most every day, and I feel a strain I never experienced in the past. The investors keep expanding this place, and my responsibilities grow right along with all those extras they keep adding. I don’t feel up to the job anymore. Once Mr. Nordegren gets back, I’m going to tell him he should put you in charge. You’re the one who should take over this job.”

  “Me?” Fear and panic knotted together and settled on Evan’s chest like a rock. With the recent storm, the pressure to get everything back to normal had magnified beyond imagination. “Are you joking? With all this damage and work that needs to be completed before the season, this place can’t get along without you. I could never oversee all this work, Harland. You’re the one with the experience to get us through this mess.”

  “Additional people will be hired to help with the damage and preparations. Besides, there’s no better way to learn than to jump in and do things, and this is the perfect time. I won’t leave you until you feel equipped, but if I didn’t think you were capable, I’d never suggest the idea to Mr. Nordegren or to Mr. Zimmerman.” He lifted his head a few inches and looked Evan in the eye. “You’re the right man for the job, Evan, so no use arguing with me.” That said, he returned to his previous position and closed his eyes.

  Evan waited, hoping Harland would sit up so they could discuss the matter a little more. When Harland didn’t move, Evan yanked off his work boots and took them out to the porch. After they’d sat in the sun for a while, he would beat them against the railing to knock off the dried mud. Since the hurricane, it was the most cleaning his boots had received, and if it hadn’t been for Garrison’s wife, he’d be wearing filthy clothes. The routine had changed for all of them. Life had turned upside down, and now Harland was planning to further toss things about. His stomach churned as though he’d swallowed a glass of sour milk. Harland believed in him, but could he really step in and prove himself adequate to the job? Memories of his father’s condemning insults plagued him.

  “You’ll never amount to anything, Evan. You’re worthless.”

  Evan grimaced. It was as if his father were standing in the same room with him now. “Your brother James has always been the only one I could rely on.”

  “Leave the boy be,” Evan’s mother often declared in his defense. Unfortunately it usually resulted in horrible arguments between husband and wife. James thought it almost entertaining. There was something sadistic in the pleasure he took from watching their father bully their mother.

  Evan pressed his hands to his head as if to force the images from his mind. His parents had been dreadfully unhappy together. His mother had died a broken and lonely woman. No doubt death had been a sweet release. But it hadn’t been so for Evan. He’d been rejected and criticized throughout his childhood and cast off as a young adult.

  But Harland believed in him in a way that his own father never had.

  Squaring his shoulders, Evan vowed to be worthy of that trust. One way or another, he would prove to Harland and everyone else that he was of value. But the thought of Harland leaving was troubling. Evan went back into the lodge prepared to discuss the matter, but Harland appeared to be asleep.

  Evan looked at the old man and shook his head. They’d made little progress on the cleanup, and now Harland was talking of pulling out before the real work had even begun. Only the necessities had received immediate attention. All of the men had helped round up the animals, check owners’ cottages, and inspect the many outbuildings for damage. They’d been grateful when they discovered they’d lost only one cow and an old workhorse. Garrison held out hope that when they completed the survey of the island, they’d locate both. Harland wasn’t so sure. And now he planned to leave them. Evan could scarcely imagine the island without the old man.

  His footsteps muffled by thick work socks, Evan took the steps two at a time and grabbed his other pair of boots. Carrying the shoes in one hand, he plopped down in a straight-backed chair near Harland and tugged the back of a boot until his foot slid into position. The noise caused Harland to stir.

  “You feeling up to going over to the cottages, or you need to rest?”

  Harland yawned. “Give me an hour or so, and then I’ll join you over there. Which cottage you going to first?” Harland had assigned the men living in the workers’ quarters to begin repairs to the clubhouse. The cottages of the investors were important, but many more had permanent rooms in the clubhouse. At the moment, they needed to please the majority—and that meant seeing to the clubhouse.

  Evan didn’t hesitate. “I think I’ll go to Bridal Fair first. After the clubhouse, it probably deser
ves our attention next, don’t you think?”

  Harland grinned and nodded. “I knew you were the right choice for this job, my boy. You’re using your head to make good decisions.” He tapped his index finger to the side of his forehead and then resumed stroking Delilah. “I’ll meet you over there in an hour or so. You best stop and see if Emma will feed you before you set out.”

  “I’ll see if she can pack me a sandwich to take along. It will save me some time.” After a final glance over his shoulder, Evan leaned down and wrapped his hand around the wooden handle of the toolbox. He’d need more than a handheld toolbox to complete all the needed repairs, but with these he could at least begin.

  His boots squished in the muddy path, yet birds chirped overhead as though all was right with the world. They remained undisturbed by the storm that had wreaked havoc along the Eastern Coast only days before. A yellow warbler sat high on an exposed branch and sang a bright clear song as Evan passed by. That bird might be calm, but he wasn’t. He didn’t know whether he should be honored by Harland’s decision to recommend him as a replacement or run for the hills. Being a gamekeeper was one thing, but managing and supervising grounds and improvements, overseeing the landscape work, and managing the wildlife was an immense responsibility—not to mention supervising all the men. Much more responsibility than he’d ever imagined. For a fleeting moment, his chest swelled with pride, but soon that feeling was replaced with fear and echoed insults from his father. Forcing them aside, Evan did his best to maintain a positive attitude, but the questions poured in faster than he could answer.

 

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