“And how would you be knowin’ that, Garrison O’Sullivan?” Lips pressed together, Emma perched a fist on one hip and stared at her husband.
“Now, Emma, you know I found meself in such places before the Lord grabbed me by the scruff of the neck.”
Harland chuckled. “And the good Lord had plenty of help from Emma, too.”
“Aye, that He did,” Garrison replied while dipping his fork into the fried potatoes Emma had scooped onto his plate. He swallowed the mouthful of food and then pointed his fork at Lawrence. “So you have a legal bill of sale for that horse?”
Lawrence frowned, obviously annoyed by the continued line of questioning. “Yes, I do. Would it make you feel better to see it?”
Garrison shook his head. “If yar sayin’ it’s true, then I believe ya. Just don’t want no stolen horses on this island. What’s the animal’s name?”
Lawrence hesitated. “Priceless Journey.”
The older man nodded. “Well, he’s a priceless animal, and that’s a fact.”
Melinda watched the exchange between Mr. O’Sullivan and her brother. She’d been living away from her brother for the past four years, and much about Lawrence had changed. The look in his eyes was sincere enough to make her believe, yet there was something in his tone that didn’t sound quite right. He’d mentioned that horse’s name during their travels, and she was sure it wasn’t Priceless Journey. What was he hiding?
After supper she called Lawrence aside. “You appeared to be concealing something when you spoke to Mr. O’Sullivan about that horse. And I thought you gave me a different name for the horse—something about black and running or some such thing, but I’m sure it wasn’t Priceless Journey.”
Her brother chuckled. “You worry far too much, Melinda. No matter what the name, that horse belongs to me, and I have a bill of sale as proof. There’s no need for concern. In fact, I’ve heard tell that worry causes women’s faces to wrinkle at an early age, and I wouldn’t want that happening to my sister.” He nodded toward the front door. “I think I’ll go and take Priceless Journey to the barn.”
She stared after Lawrence as he walked out of the house. In spite of her brother’s assurances, he’d been unable to still her fears.
As December arrived, Melinda continued to marvel at her brother’s ability to settle into this new life. Although Lawrence avoided as much heavy work as possible, he managed to remain in good stead with Mr. O’Sullivan. Lawrence said it was because the older man appreciated his ability with horses and wanted him around when the season opened. Evan thought it had more to do with her brother’s ability to pull the wool over Mr. O’Sullivan’s eyes.
Melinda decided it was probably a combination of both. Lawrence had proved his capability to work with horses, both as a rider and a trainer, though he wasn’t much help when it came to mucking the barn or performing any other distasteful or tedious work. Most of the time, he offered the promise of riding a horse to charm one of the newly hired younger fellows into completing his mundane chores for him.
In considering the events since her brother’s arrival, Melinda judged that Lawrence had adapted more quickly than she had. For her, much of this new life had required a great deal of adjustment. Though she’d been living in the maids’ quarters at the clubhouse for more than a month now, she still hadn’t gotten used to the distance her new living arrangement had created between Evan and her. Lawrence was living in the hunting lodge with Evan and Harland, which suited him just fine.
Melinda hadn’t wanted to move from the O’Sullivan home, although she realized the time had come. When other cleaning women had been hired to help at the clubhouse, Mr. O’Sullivan made it clear he missed his privacy. He’d assured his wife that Melinda would now be safe at the clubhouse. Emma knew her husband had already extended his hospitality beyond normal limits, and she explained she couldn’t press for more. She assured Melinda that Garrison was right. Melinda would be safe now that the other women were moving in to work at the lodge. Melinda couldn’t possibly explain that her misgivings had nothing to do with safety but rather with having to leave Evan’s nearness. When the day for her move arrived, Melinda had hoped the older woman would change her mind, but that hadn’t occurred.
The clubhouse living quarters had created a new loneliness for Melinda. Instead of spending her evenings with Evan, Harland, Lawrence, and the O’Sullivans, she now spent her free time surrounded by strangers. And try as she might to befriend the other maids, the women seemed determined to keep her at arm’s length after one of them shared that she remembered Melinda was Mrs. Mifflin’s lady’s maid.
Even during the days, her time with Emma was limited. As her supervisor, Emma didn’t want to be accused of special treatment or exhibiting a preference for Melinda. “I told you t’would not be easy,” Emma told her one day. “Our friendship will only make things more difficult for you.”
“I don’t care. I’m so happy to be here—to have a purpose and be allowed to stay.”
“Well, just remember, once the cleanup and preparations are accomplished, you may well find your purpose removed.”
“Oh, but surely they will see I’m a hard worker and keep me on. Not only that, but I have your friendship, and surely you will put in a good word for me.”
Emma smiled. “Always, but for now I cannot show any favoritism.”
Melinda knew the older woman was correct, but it didn’t stop her from seeking out Emma. Each morning she’d wait by the front door of the clubhouse. Before Emma could catch her breath, Melinda would shoot questions at her in rapid succession. The questions didn’t change much from day to day: Did Evan send a message for her? What time did Evan return home for supper? What progress were they making? Did Evan mention her name? Did he say if he’d come over to visit on Sunday? On and on it would go until she’d eventually quiz Emma about Lawrence.
But today as Melinda waited, she promised herself not to badger Emma when she arrived. She spotted Emma approaching and bit her lip.
“Good morning, lass. Aren’t you going to start your inquisition?”
“Not today.”
“Too bad.”
“Why? Did Evan send a message for me? Is he all right?”
“See? That didn’t take long.” Emma laughed and pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket. “I suppose you’ll be wanting this.”
Melinda’s heart pounded a new beat at the sight of Evan’s handwriting. She quickly read the brief message and pressed the folded page to her bodice. “Thank you, Emma!”
Emma chuckled. “No need to be thankin’ me. I didn’t write it. But I hope that bit of news from Evan is going to make this day a better one for ya.” She winked and continued into the clubhouse. “Now that the roof is fixed, we need to get to those rooms on the upper floor. The rugs need to be taken up and carried outdoors to clean.” Emma glanced around. “Where is everyone?”
“They’re finishing breakfast. The cook overslept this morning.”
Emma’s kind features wrinkled into a frown. “That cook may find herself on a launch back to Biscayne if she keeps up her sloppy habits. That’s two times in the past week.” She lifted a basket from her arm. “Would ya go and fetch her for me, lass? I need to be havin’ a talk with her. And tell the others to get up to the fourth floor and start taking out the rugs.”
Melinda scurried off toward the clubhouse kitchen to do Emma’s bidding. The other women were finishing their breakfast when she reached the doorway, and she waved toward the cook. “Miss Emma wants to see you in the front parlor.” She turned to the others. “And we’re supposed to begin taking out the rugs on the fourth floor.”
Groans circulated around the table, but it was the cook who directed a look of contempt at Melinda. “Been in there reporting on us, I see,” she hissed and gave Melinda a push with her hip as she passed by.
“No.” She looked at the other women. “Th-that’s not what happened. Miss Emma—”
They pushed away from the table and headed o
ff toward the rear stairs. She hurried after the women, and though she attempted to explain, they ignored her. Frustration replaced her earlier delight over Evan’s note. She’d be given no opportunity to explain. Instead, the women would believe the cook and think she’d been reporting on them.
Melinda sighed. There was no changing what had already happened. It seemed she had little control over anything in her life. She’d thought coming to Bridal Veil would enable her to begin a new life with Evan, and together they would share opportunities as husband and wife. Instead, Mr. Morley and his investors controlled their future.
Kneeling down, Melinda began to roll up one of the many carpets. Her thoughts turned to the last time she’d spoken with Evan. It had been shortly after her move to the maids’ quarters, when Mr. Morley had come to survey the damage. At that same time, Mr. Morley had also presented plans for expansion of activities on the island. The investors had decided that due to the other renovations taking place on the island, this would be a perfect time to construct both a racetrack and a golf course for the pleasure of the guests. They’d decided the new activities would attract additional visitors and investors who would, in turn, help pay for the renovations. Melinda had hoped these new projects might mean an immediate advancement for Evan.
Unfortunately, Mr. Morley had been unyielding in his position with Harland. The investors wanted him to remain as supervisor until the projects were completed. If Harland agreed, they would appoint Evan to work hand-in-hand with him, and when the two projects were completed, Evan would be selected to replace Harland. The older man hadn’t been fond of the investors’ high-handed strategy, but he’d agreed—for Evan’s sake.
She had tried to match Evan’s excitement over the news, but hearing about his added duties had hit like a punch to the midsection. She had no one to blame but herself—she’d made the decision to come to the island without first talking to him, and she needed to accept his decision. Each night she repeated these things, but during the long days when the other girls wouldn’t visit with her or the many evenings when Evan didn’t come by, loneliness wrapped itself around her and created doubt.
As another hard day of work progressed, the women’s complaints increased. Dragging the carpets down several flights of stairs and beating them was arduous enough, but the thought of hoisting them back up the stairs was more than the women cared to imagine. In addition, Emma had ordered that the floors be scrubbed and a fresh coat of wax applied before the rugs could be returned upstairs. When one of the girls tripped while attempting to carry a rug upstairs, Melinda intervened and spoke to Emma.
“Unless you want the women to suffer injury, you’ll need some men to carry the rugs back upstairs.”
“I’m thinkin’ you’re probably right. Should’ve thought of that myself. Tell ’em to leave the rugs once they’re clean.”
Pleased by the older woman’s response, Melinda hurried to tell the others, but they curled their lips and muttered unkind remarks about her friendship with Emma. In spite of her attempts to help, there was no pleasing the women—at least not where she was concerned.
By late afternoon, attitudes hadn’t changed much. Throughout supper, the other maids murmured about Emma’s playing favorites and the fact that Melinda had more privileges than the rest of them. Melinda didn’t argue with them or tell them she followed the same rules as they did. But they resented the fact that Evan could call on her during weekday evenings, while most of the other men were restricted to weekend visits. She had considered pointing out that the privilege was Evan’s and not hers, but it wouldn’t have changed their thinking. Besides, Evan had never visited during the week.
Their comments stung, but Melinda refused to let them ruin her evening. Any minute now, Evan would arrive and their time together was already far too short to be destroyed by gossipy girls.
Hoping to avoid further remarks, Melinda gathered a quilt from her room and walked outside to wait for Evan. A few moments later, two of the women followed her out the door, but they soon headed off in another direction. When more than twenty minutes had passed, she withdrew the note from her pocket. Perhaps she’d misread the time. “It says five-thirty.” She glanced toward the setting sun. What was keeping him? If he didn’t hurry, they’d have little time to themselves.
The two maids rounded the path from the opposite direction. “Get stood up, did you?”
Before Melinda could respond, the other girl chimed in. “Serves you right. The rest of us have to wait until the weekend to see our fellows.”
Melinda could hear the others join their laughter a short time after they walked inside the living quarters. A tear trickled down her cheek. Why did they find such pleasure in her unhappiness? She swiped away the tear, determined to remain until darkness fell.
A sigh escaped her lips when Evan appeared a short time later. The setting sun cast a shimmer of gold across his dark brown hair and accentuated his chiseled features as he approached.
He pulled back on the reins and dismounted a bay gelding, one of the horses that remained on the island year-round. Evan turned and grinned. “It’s nice to see you out here waiting for me. I hope that means you’re as eager to see me as I am to be here.”
“I’m always delighted to see you. I only wish you would visit more often and arrive on time.” She’d tried to appear cheery, but it proved impossible.
Evan tied the horse to a low-hanging branch of a live oak and strode toward her. “You sound unhappy.” He tipped his head to one side and met her gaze. “I’m sorry that I’m late, but we worked longer than expected, and I didn’t want to come visit you without cleaning up.” He chuckled. “I doubt you’d be pleased to be around me if I smelled like the muck from a barn.”
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I wish I could be here more often, but you know how busy I am. By the time I finally get home at night, I’m so tired I drop into bed and am usually asleep before I’ve finished praying.” He lifted his nose and sniffed. “You smell wonderful. Is that lilac?”
She nodded. “You could smell my perfume every night if we were married.”
His smile faded. “Once everything is in order, the horse track and golf course have been completed, and I’ve been appointed to take Harland’s position, we’ll be married.” He grasped her hand and brushed a kiss across her fingers. “You’ll become so tired of seeing me, you’ll long for the days when you lived in the clubhouse.”
She inhaled a breath and forced a smile. “I don’t think that will ever happen, but I would like to hear what’s been completed so far. Maybe that will make me feel a little better.” Though it would soon be dark, she spread the multicolored quilt beneath a large cypress tree, where they were out of sight of the door to the maids’ quarters.
Evan dropped down beside her. “We’re making great progress on the racetrack. It’s going to be a mile and a quarter oval. Lawrence spoke with the architect, and the men agreed that would be best. Lawrence says the shorter tracks are more popular now.”
“Lawrence? Since when is Lawrence in charge?”
He shook his head. “Oh, Lawrence isn’t in charge, but he does know a great deal about racetracks—much more than any of us could have imagined. And he’s been willing to share all of his insights with the architect.”
Melinda didn’t doubt that piece of news. Her brother would be more than pleased to give advice about a new racetrack, especially if it meant he didn’t have to perform any manual labor. And it seemed Lawrence had figured out how to charm Evan, as well as the other men.
“The location is completely staked out, and the workers have cleared the land.” His eyes were alight with excitement. “By the middle of next week, we hope to have the ground leveled. Harland and I managed to hire additional workers from up north.” He leaned forward and rested his arm across one knee. “It’s going to be magnificent, Melinda. The architect has drawn up the landscaping plans, and there will be grandstands that will compete with those at Churchill Downs. If Mr. Morley an
d the investors agree, we’ll have triple spires on our grandstands.”
“I take it there is something particularly special about triple spires.”
Evan nodded. “Indeed. The grandstands at Churchill Downs have only double spires. Mr. Morley asked us to have the track ready by the time the first visitors arrive for the season. If possible, he wants the track here to outshine Churchill Downs.”
“With all that needs to be completed, it sounds as though I’ll see little of you.” A slight breeze fluttered through the tree’s branches, and Melinda brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “What about the golf course? Surely the investors don’t expect both to be completed before the season.”
“As long as they’ll let us hire enough men, I think we can accomplish a great deal. Of course, it keeps Harland and me busy just running back and forth to make sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to. Some of the men are fair workers, but others need constant watching. We need to get some good supervisors in place, and that’s a fact. However, as long as we have decent putting greens prepared, I think they’ll be satisfied for the short term.”
Melinda picked at a thread in the quilt. “Maybe once there are a few more supervisors, you’ll find more time to come and visit. I’ve been so lonely since moving out of the O’Sullivans’ cottage.”
He scooted back on the quilt as though he wanted to escape her discouraging words. “I know, but there’s nothing I can do to lessen the time I’m at work. Harland depends on me.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “I depend on you, too. Doesn’t that count?”
He cupped the side of her face in his palm. “Of course it counts—more than anything. You’re the reason I’m determined to do the best job possible during these next few months. I’m going to make certain I’m offered Harland’s job so that I can take care of my beautiful wife.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips. “You know I love you, Melinda, and you need to trust me. All this hard work is going to provide us with what we need to begin our family.” He murmured the words as he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.
To Love and Cherish Page 16
