“You knew Mrs. McKinley’s brother?”
“Yes, I know the entire family. I know I told you that before she visited last year.”
Melinda didn’t recall hearing any such thing, but to say so would serve no purpose.
“The death was a horrible tragedy. Murder!” Mrs. Mifflin shook her head. “Of course, the scandal that followed was horrid. And there I was without help—you’d deserted me only a short time before, and I had to travel to the funeral.” She clasped a hand to her chest. “I shudder to think how I suffered. I had to deal with that simpleton maid who couldn’t pick out a proper gown or lace my corset correctly.” She leaned closer. “To make matters worse, the minute we returned home, she repeated every word she’d heard about George being murdered by one of his former . . . lady friends.”
The conversation was becoming more and more confusing. “Lady friends?”
“Yes. George Saxton, Ida’s brother, was single and lived in Canton with his sister Mary Barber and her family. He had been keeping company with a widow, Eva Althouse, and was on his way home when his former lady friend, Anna George, shot him.” Mrs. Mifflin tsk-tsked and shook her head. “I cannot believe you didn’t read any of this in the paper. Don’t people down here keep abreast of what is going on in the country?”
Melinda flinched as though she’d been slapped. “You may recall that there was a flood and much devastation here in the South during that time, Mrs. Mifflin. We didn’t have time to worry about anything other than cleaning up after the destruction.”
Melinda’s response had been somewhat sharper than she’d intended. Mrs. Mifflin leaned back in her chair and crimped her features into a look of disapproval. “Well, yes, I suppose you did have your problems down here, as well. However, the whole affair was staggering for both Ida and me.”
Melinda wasn’t surprised that Mrs. Mifflin had immediately returned to the topic of her own suffering. In her time away from Mrs. Mifflin, Melinda hadn’t forgotten the matron’s selfish attitude. “I’m sorry you were forced to endure such difficulty. I do hope Mrs. McKinley’s health hasn’t deteriorated any further.”
Mrs. Mifflin’s features relaxed. She glanced over her shoulder and folded her hands in a tight knot. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the president and Mrs. McKinley will be visiting Bridal Veil next month.”
The shocking revelation left Melinda speechless. When she finally gathered her wits, she looked at her calendar and then back at Mrs. Mifflin. “Ex-ex-exactly when is this supposed to occur?”
“This is not a supposition, Melinda; it is a fact. Both the president and Ida are going to visit Jekyl Island on the twenty-second of March, and then they’ll come to Bridal Veil for a visit. Ida said she couldn’t bear to be so close and not see me.”
“You’re absolutely positive? I haven’t been told anything about a presidential visit, Mrs. Mifflin.” Her stomach lurched at the thought. She’d be expected to host a gala that would surpass anything on Jekyl Island. The throbbing in her head now heightened to a stabbing pain.
Mrs. Mifflin glared. “Didn’t I just say it was a fact? You need not ask the same question over and over, Melinda.” She sighed. “Now then, we need to discuss matters of importance.”
Had the woman lost her mind? What could be more important than a presidential visit in six weeks’ time? “Does Mr. Zimmerman know about the presidential visit?”
Mrs. Mifflin’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “Well, of course. Victor Morley knows, so I’m certain he would tell Mr. Zimmerman so that all will be in readiness.” She snapped open her fan and waved it back and forth. “Now, what have you decided about your return to Cleveland? Do give me an affirmative answer. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear a word.”
Melinda remained silent and Mrs. Mifflin stood. “I’m going to convince you before the season ends.”
A single hairpin dropped from Mrs. Mifflin’s coiffure and pinged on the hardwood floor as she turned and marched across the foyer.
Melinda waved at Mr. Zimmerman as he entered the clubhouse late in the afternoon. She’d been trying to locate him ever since Mrs. Mifflin’s departure. When he didn’t approach, Melinda jumped up from her chair and hurried toward him.
The moment she reached his side, she grasped his arm. “We need to talk. It’s very important.”
“During the season, everything is important, Miss Colson. I trust you have the arrangements completed for the banquet being hosted by the Bridal Veil Rowing Club? You remember it’s to be held after the competition next Sunday.” He tugged on the end of his mustache. “Jekyl has always had the privilege of hosting the event, and we want to outshine them.”
“Of course, I remember.” She wanted to tell him she’d made the arrangements long ago. Surely he realized food, décor, plaques, and trophies needed to be ordered far in advance of the event. “It is another event we need to discuss.” She leaned close. “The president’s visit to Bridal Veil in March.”
He arched his back and pinned her with a dark gaze. “How did you hear that information?”
“From a guest. One who trusted me to keep her confidence. I am speaking to you because she said you’d already been informed of the anticipated visit.”
Mr. Zimmerman grasped Melinda’s elbow and propelled her toward his office. He pushed the door closed behind them, apparently concerned about privacy rather than propriety during this conversation.
“The information you received is correct. Sometime in March, the newspapers will be notified that the president intends to visit Biscayne. I don’t know what other information will be given to the public regarding the president’s schedule, but it will not come from employees of this resort.” A ray of sunlight glistened on Mr. Zimmerman’s black hair as he stepped across the room and settled at his desk. “We can’t control what guests tell one another, or even what they tell the resort employees. However, any employee repeating this information will be discharged. We have promised secrecy. It is up to the president or his advisors to determine whether they will publicize the visit. Is that clear, Miss Colson?”
“Yes. I had no intention of repeating—”
“I’m sure you didn’t, but I like everything clarified.”
Never before had Mr. Zimmerman acted in such an abrupt manner. He obviously feared losing his own position if anything went amiss. “How am I to prepare for such esteemed guests if you don’t give me proper notice of their visit?”
Mr. Zimmerman folded his hands atop his desk. “You aren’t, Miss Colson. I will oversee this visit. If and when I need your assistance, I’ll let you know.”
Melinda bowed her head and backed toward the door as warmth spread up her neck and across her cheeks. If Mr. Zimmerman had intended to embarrass her, he’d succeeded. She walked back to her office, uncertain if she should feel offended or relieved that Mr. Zimmerman would oversee the presidential events. However, one thing remained unchanged: the pounding in her head.
She tried to push aside a feeling of defeat as she stepped inside her office. How silly to feel slighted. The last thing she needed was additional work. Rubbing her temples, her gaze fell upon an envelope bearing only her first name. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Evan’s handwriting. She needed something to cheer her today. Somehow he had known. She sat down, slid her letter opener beneath the seal, and withdrew the single sheet of paper.
Dear Melinda,
I’m sorry, but I must cancel our plans for tomorrow due to my workload at the golf course. Please forgive me. Perhaps next Friday?
Love,
Evan
The paper fluttered from her hand and dropped to the desk. How could one day provide so many disastrous events? She sank back in the chair and covered her eyes. She would not cry. It would only make her head hurt all the more.
As if to taunt her, a vision of Victoria Polter came to mind. The girl made it a practice to stop at Melinda’s office each time she returned from her riding lessons with Evan. She reveled in recounting her time with
him. Melinda was certain Victoria exaggerated a bit, but today the memory of a remark by Victoria’s lady’s maid haunted Melinda. She’d overheard the maid comment to one of the other Polter servants that Evan and Victoria appeared quite enamored with each other.
Her confidence faltered as she stared at Evan’s note and considered the servant’s gossip. In the past she’d been successful in pushing the thoughts from her mind. After all, such stirrings were prompted by nothing more than childish jealousy—and she didn’t want to be considered either childish or jealous. But today her feelings seemed neither childish nor jealous. They seemed far too real and very frightening.
CHAPTER 26
Melinda had had little contact with Evan during the past few weeks other than their time at church on Sunday mornings, and the chasm between them was broadening. She’d held out hope he might remain for a time after services this morning, but before they’d walked out of the church, he began to offer an apology.
“I’m sorry, but—”
Melinda held up her hand. “But you have to return to work. Will that golf course never be completed, Evan?”
His mouth dropped open. “Are you forgetting the blizzard that covered the entire southern coast with snow two weeks ago?”
How could he ask such a question? The unexpected storm had created countless problems for all of them, including a postponement of her taking the new apartment. Because of the snow, Melinda had been required to rearrange dates for previously scheduled events while keeping the Bridal Veil visitors happy. The children had enjoyed the astonishing weather changes, but critical comments from the adult guests abounded until the weather finally turned warm.
“I remember quite well. My work more than doubled,” she said.
“And mine came to a halt. With six inches of snow on the ground and cold temperatures, I’ve only been able to resume work the past two days. And even now, the ground is so wet, it’s nearly impossible to accomplish much. How can I make progress when we have one disaster after another on this island? The golf course is important, Melinda. I must have it completed by March twenty-fourth. An important guest is visiting, and if it’s not complete . . .” His forehead creased and he lifted his open palms toward heaven. “What am I to do?”
She bit back her comment. Did Evan know the identity of the important guest? A month ago she would have asked him. But with their relationship on unsteady ground, she decided to follow Mr. Zimmerman’s warning.
“Do whatever you must, Evan. I’ve told you that the promotion isn’t important to our future. It’s the two of us working together that will make us stronger, but you don’t agree.” He opened his mouth to object, but she shook her head. “I know you promised yourself you would never marry until you could support a wife and children. There’s no need to tell me again. Perhaps it’s best if we reconsider our future. Although you still manage to have time for Miss Polter, you aren’t able to fit me into your busy schedule.”
“That’s unfair, Melinda. You know my time with Victoria is a necessity—one over which I hold no control.”
She arched her brows. “Really? I didn’t realize that sharing affectionate embraces or kissing was considered a requirement of riding lessons.”
His features contorted into a strange mixture of surprise and irritation. “I don’t know how you got information about embraces or kisses, but I have no interest in Victoria Polter. She has been very forward and controlling, even threatening to carry tales to Mr. Morley if I don’t comply with her every request.”
Her frustration mounted at his excuses. “You’re a grown man, Evan. I find it difficult to believe you couldn’t stop her advances if you truly wanted to. I think we should both take time to evaluate what we want for our future. You need not worry about finding time for me in your busy schedule.”
She turned and walked away before he could see the tears forming in her eyes. Keeping to the circular path leading from the church, she raised her parasol and walked toward the clubhouse. Her stomach clenched in a tight knot as she attempted to gain control over her roiling emotions. The impact of her final words to Evan replayed like a haunting melody. Why had she said he need not worry about finding time for her when she wanted nothing more than to spend her time with him? Why had she said they should evaluate their future together when she already knew she wanted to share her future with him?
She kept her gaze fixed on the path. “What does he want? That’s the real question,” she muttered. He hadn’t followed after her—he hadn’t even called her name. Did he believe his position at Bridal Veil more important than marriage to her? A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard to keep her tears at bay. The clubhouse lawn had filled with guests, and she didn’t want anyone reporting her emotional state to Mr. Zimmerman.
In the distance she spotted Lawrence riding off with one of the guests. Two days ago, her brother still hadn’t located the bill of sale for Midnight Flight. When Melinda questioned him, he’d adopted a cavalier attitude that had annoyed her. In turn, she’d become snappish, and they’d parted with no resolution.
In her brother’s mind, there was no problem. He always adopted the position that by ignoring a problem, it would somehow disappear. Melinda embraced the belief that procrastination intensified difficult dilemmas. Her brother’s delay tactics had become increasingly worrisome, and Melinda wanted him to take the matter seriously before the police became involved. But right now her worries over Evan were of greater concern than Lawrence and his irresponsible behavior.
“Here’s the lovely lady I was hoping to see.” Still lost in thought, Melinda startled and turned to see Preston Powers striding toward her. He chuckled. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you heard me approaching.”
“No. My thoughts were elsewhere.” From his attire, she guessed he’d spent the morning riding rather than attending church.
“I’d like to believe your thoughts were on me. Is that possible?” His lips curved in a flirting grin.
She frowned and took a backward step. Over the past weeks, Preston had become increasingly familiar with her. At times she enjoyed his company, but his personal comments caused a sense of discomfort and uneasiness. “My thoughts are personal, Mr. Powers, but they were not of you.”
He clasped a hand to his chest and pretended he might fall to the ground. “You’ve wounded me, dear Melinda. How could I have become enamored with a woman who treats me so heartlessly?”
She inwardly cringed at his remark. What if someone heard him? They were drawing near the clubhouse, and visitors were scattered across the area playing croquet, bocce ball, and horseshoes. She considered taking him to task for his bold remarks but knew it would likely encourage him to continue his foolish banter. And one of the guests would certainly overhear.
“I take it you’ve been riding or on a hunt this morning.”
He glanced down at his riding boots. “A hunt, but I went along only for the ride. I don’t enjoy shooting at birds or animals, though I might consider taking aim at a few of my enemies.”
She stopped midstep and stared at him.
He grasped her elbow and urged her forward. “Don’t look so alarmed. I was only joking.”
She didn’t consider his remark amusing but let it pass. “Did the other men meet with success on the hunt?”
“I believe the animals would count it successful—they managed to remain well hidden.” He laughed and followed her into the clubhouse.
Melinda removed the key to her office door and turned toward Preston. He had moved much too close, and she backed against the door. “I have a couple of matters that I must attend to.” She hoped he would consider her comment the end of their exchange.
“By all means.” He gestured toward the office door. “I’m going back to the cottage and change clothes. I doubt they’d permit me entry to the dining room in my riding clothes. I do hope you’ll be here when I return.”
She smiled and gave a tiny shrug. “I find it impossible to know where I wi
ll be from one minute to the next.”
“Then I shall have to come in search of you.” He winked before he turned and strode toward the door.
The man was impertinent, but at least he found her interesting enough to seek out. Her heart tugged and the familiar loneliness grabbed hold again. If only Evan would pursue her with half as much fervor.
She withdrew her appointment book from the shelf and ran her finger along the page. Next week was booked for several events, but there were several days that weren’t particularly busy. She sighed, grateful for the break in her schedule, for there were always guests who wanted Melinda to arrange a last-minute card party or tea.
“Ah, Miss Colson! I didn’t expect you to be in your office, but it pleases me to see your dedication.” Mr. Zimmerman stepped into Melinda’s office and sat down in the chair opposite her desk. “I have changed my mind.”
A lump as hard as last week’s bread formed in her stomach. “Changed your mind about what?” The supervisor seldom changed his mind about anything, and when he did, it usually wreaked havoc on the staff.
“About the visit from our special guest.” He glanced at the door. “You understand whom we are discussing?”
“Yes.” An involuntary tremble assailed her. Had Mr. Zimmerman now decided to drop all of the planning in her lap?
He leaned forward and peered into her eyes. “I have decided that we should hold the costume ball while our special guests are here.” His thin mustache quivered as his lips curled into a broad smile. “Isn’t that an excellent idea?” His eyes glistened with anticipation as he leaned back and awaited her response.
“No!” The answer burst from her lips with unexpected vehemence. Mr. Zimmerman flinched, and Melinda apologized for her forceful response. “The costume ball is scheduled in April. The guests are aware of the April date. I’ve already arranged for the musicians. I don’t think I’ll have enough time to prepare.”
To Love and Cherish Page 25
