Mr. Zimmerman shrugged. “Contact the musicians and change the date or find new ones if they don’t wish to accommodate your request. The ball will be held on March twenty-fifth. I’m confident you’ll complete the necessary preparations. You have a month. That should be more than sufficient.”
“But the other guests—”
“If they create a fuss, tell them we are having two balls, one in March and one in April. You can make the first a costume ball and the second a masquerade. The ladies will be pleased to have an additional party. The gentlemen perhaps not so much, but they won’t offer too many objections. They want to keep their wives happy.” He swiped his hands together. “That was easily solved.”
She folded her hands and squeezed until her fingers turned numb from the pressure. Mr. Zimmerman would accept no argument. “I’ll begin seeing to the arrangements right away.”
Melinda hadn’t fully recovered from Mr. Zimmerman’s unexpected decision when Preston returned. He stood in the doorway and extended his hand toward her. “I’ve arrived to take you to lunch, Miss Colson.” Before she could protest, he stepped closer. “No need to worry. I’ve already received Mr. Zimmerman’s permission to have you join me in the dining room.”
How dare he do such a thing? She swallowed the objection lodged in her throat. Her thoughts were drawn to Evan and Victoria, and she wondered if she’d been hasty to judge his behavior. Still, she’d held Mr. Powers at bay, and she certainly hadn’t permitted him to embrace or kiss her! Employees were expected to accept any proper request from a visitor, but they weren’t obliged to tolerate unseemly behavior. Personally, she didn’t deem an invitation to lunch with a guest an appropriate duty for an employee, but Mr. Zimmerman had given Preston his consent without gaining her approval. Therefore, she had no choice in the matter.
The guests were accustomed to seeing Melinda mingle at their various events, so none of them appeared surprised to see her walk into the dining room and sit down with Preston. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such an uncomfortable situation. Besides, she was hungry and Chef Durand was known for his sumptuous cuisine. While she was reviewing the menu, a shadow fell across the table, and she glanced up.
“My, my. Aren’t you two a lovely couple. Enjoying your Sunday afternoon, Miss Colson?” Victoria stood beside the table with her younger brother in tow, while her parents were seated at a nearby table.
Melinda looked up with a steady gaze. “I’m preparing to enjoy my noonday meal, Miss Polter. I hope you will enjoy yours, as well.”
“Oh, I’ve already finished. We’re on our way to meet Evan. He was delighted to accept my invitation to go horseback riding this afternoon. I’ll be sure to tell him that you and Mr. Powers are enjoying the afternoon together.” She lifted her chin and flashed a triumphant smile before she turned and sashayed out of the room.
Melinda clutched her napkin. Her heart plummeted. No matter how Victoria spun her tale, Melinda knew Evan would presume Preston Powers had played some part in her decision to reevaluate their future.
Evan sighed as he caught sight of Victoria arriving from afar. He’d done his best to keep the young woman at a distance, but Mr. Morley was intent upon pleasing Mr. Polter. And pleasing Mr. Polter meant keeping Victoria happy, even at the expense of his relationship with Melinda. There seemed no way to maintain any balance in his life, but one thing was certain: This year he would be pleased to see the end of the season arrive. And at the very least, he would have some extra money saved for the future, and with Victoria and the other guests gone, he’d have time to focus all of his attention on Melinda.
“Evan! Over here!” Victoria waved her handkerchief overhead. Several of the workmen turned to look at the young woman and then at Evan.
He wasn’t surprised to hear their murmured complaints—and he didn’t blame them. They wanted time to enjoy their afternoon, but they had to continue working. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told one of the men before striding off to meet Victoria.
She rushed toward him and clutched his arm. “I’m so glad you agreed to take me riding. I knew you’d change your mind once you had time to give it a little more thought.”
“I can be gone for only an hour.” Over and over he’d emphasized the amount of work he needed to complete, but she ignored his comments.
She clung to his arm like a small child. “You know how I told you that I see Preston Powers and Melinda together all the time?”
The hairs on the back of Evan’s neck prickled, and his muscles tensed. On several occasions Victoria had mentioned that she’d seen Melinda and Preston keeping company. Initially he’d been jealous and even a little angry, but he knew Melinda was required to spend time with the guests. After all, he had to do the same thing. Still, hearing they were together so soon after Melinda had placed their future in a state of uncertainty gave him pause.
In the past he’d done his best to tamp down his jealous feelings, but when he’d seen Preston with Melinda out on the lawn last week, he’d spoken to Emma. She’d confirmed what Victoria had told him. Mr. Powers appeared to be quite smitten with Melinda. However, Emma had quickly come to Melinda’s defense and assured him he need not worry. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if Emma had been wrong. Perhaps it wasn’t Victoria’s attentions toward him, but an attraction to Preston Powers that had caused Melinda’s change of heart.
Victoria poked his arm. “Are you listening to me? I just said that Melinda and Preston Powers were having lunch together in the hotel dining room. Isn’t that a bit uncommon for a guest and employee to dine together—in the formal dining room, no less?” With a syrup-sweet smile on her lips, she waited for his reply.
But Evan had none.
MARCH 1899
During the following week, Evan did his best to find time to speak privately with Melinda, but to no avail. He had hoped to settle their differences before Preston gained any further advantage. On Thursday he’d gone to the clubhouse while the workmen ate their lunch, but Melinda hadn’t been in her office. He’d looked around the grounds but hadn’t met with any success. That evening at supper Emma told him Melinda had gone into Biscayne.
“I thought Mr. Zimmerman had taken responsibility for the trips to Biscayne,” Evan said as he helped himself to a couple of warm biscuits.
“That he had, but Mr. Zimmerman is changing plans for the ball, and Melinda needed to check on her orders and see if they’d be arrivin’ on time.” Emma spooned fried potatoes into a bowl and placed it on the table. “Did the two of you have some sort of spat?”
Evan jerked around to look at her. “Why do you say that?”
The older woman shrugged. She pushed the bowl of potatoes toward him. “Mr. Powers went with her to Biscayne, and she seemed pleased to have the company.” The older woman nudged his arm. “Melinda’s lonely, and Mr. Powers has lots of time. Am I makin’ myself clear?”
All thoughts of supper disappeared and so did Evan’s appetite. He pushed the food around his plate and attempted to force aside thoughts of Melinda and Preston. How could he compete with a man like Preston Powers when he couldn’t even manage an afternoon away from work? Emma’s words troubled him like a festering splinter.
“I’m sorry Emma, but I’m just not hungry.” Evan shoved his chair away from the table and stood.
The older woman chuckled. “Love will do that to a fella.”
Evan didn’t acknowledge the remark. Love might do it, but so did anger and frustration. One way or the other, he was going to get off work and talk to Melinda.
In spite of his best efforts, it was Sunday before Evan managed time to be alone with Melinda. As they departed the Sunday morning service, she turned to leave, and Evan reached for her arm. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the clubhouse to go over my schedule. There’s a tea this afternoon, and I need to make certain everything is in order.” She arched her brows. “Why do you ask?”
“I have a few hours and thought we could spend them together. We need to ta
lk.”
She hesitated. “You could walk me over to the clubhouse, and after I go over the arrangements, I could go for a short stroll along the river.” She hesitated for a moment. “But this doesn’t mean that I’ve changed my thoughts about evaluating our future.”
He did his best to smile. “We can’t very well determine our future if we don’t spend time together.”
She tipped her head to one side. “That’s what I’ve been saying for months, but you haven’t seemed to hear me.”
He reached for her hand. “Now that we have a little time, let’s not argue.” He glanced over his shoulder and then leaned a bit closer as they continued to walk. “Did you hear about our visitor?”
She looked up at him. “You know who it is?”
“It was in the newspaper on Friday. Mr. Morley said the president’s office released his schedule to the newspapers, and Bridal Veil is listed as one of his stops. That’s why the golf course must be completed.” Evan shook his head. “If I hadn’t heard it from Mr. Morley, I never would have believed it was true. Did you know?”
She gave a slight nod. “Yes, but I wasn’t permitted to say anything. Do you think you’ll have the golf course ready by the time they arrive?”
“We’ll do our best to get nine holes completed, but I’m still not sure it’s going to be possible.” He fixed his gaze on the walkway. “I don’t know what will happen if I fail. The promotion . . .” The words caught in his throat, and he couldn’t continue.
“They know how hard you’ve worked on the golf course, Evan. I don’t think they’ll withhold your promotion. If they do, then I think God must have something else in store for you.”
“I pray that you’ll be included in those plans.” He stopped and turned to her. “I understand Preston Powers has been enjoying your company while I’ve been working. You’ve had lunch and he even escorted you to Biscayne.”
She met his gaze. “And I understand that you continue to enjoy Victoria Polter’s company during both your working hours and free time.”
“That’s not the same.”
“I believe it is exactly the same.” Melinda folded her arms across her waist and jutted her chin. “As I told you the other day, I think we need to take time and evaluate our future. Clearly we see things differently.”
CHAPTER 27
The days flew by far too quickly to suit Melinda. The president would be arriving in exactly one week, and the costume ball would take place the following evening. That thought alone caused Melinda to review her checklists for the third time since entering her office this morning.
“Melinda, Melinda!” Emma clutched a bundle of mail against her chest and panted for air. “I need to talk to you.” She leaned against the doorframe leading into Melinda’s office. “Can I close the door?” Without waiting for a reply, she stepped inside and gave the door a hefty push. The ring of keys attached to her waist jangled against her well-padded hip as she fell into the chair opposite Melinda’s desk.
Melinda stared at the head housekeeper. “Whatever is wrong, Emma?” Ever since news of the president’s visit had been released two weeks ago, Emma had been fluttering about like an excited schoolgirl. Today, however, she was as white as a ghost, and her pale blue eyes shone with fear.
“You’re not gonna believe what I’ve been hearin’ upstairs.” A strand of hair fell across her forehead, and she brushed it away. “I was delivering the mail like usual, and when I went in room 220, I heard men arguing next door.” She inhaled a deep breath. “You know I’m not one for listenin’ in on the guests, but when I heard them talkin’ about the president and his visit, my ears perked up.” She leaned forward. “It sounds like there’s a plan to kill the president.”
“What?” Melinda scooted to the edge of her chair, certain she must have misunderstood. “Tell me exactly what you heard, Emma.”
“I didn’t hear all of it. They said something like the easiest way would be a huntin’ accident or poison. And then one of them said that having the president on the island was a perfect opportunity.” Her eyes widened. “You believe me, don’t ya? I’m not making this up.”
Melinda didn’t know what she believed, but she didn’t want to discourage Emma. Was it possible someone was planning to assassinate the president? “Tell me what else they said.”
Emma’s brow furrowed. “Somethin’ about the president being imperial and tryin’ to take over the world, but that didn’t make much sense to me.”
“Imperialist? Is that what they said—that the president is an Imperialist?”
She shrugged. “Might be. I was so scared, I was shakin’ in me shoes. And they said there’s some of us that’s willin’ to help.”
“Employees of Bridal Veil?” Melinda’s thoughts raced as she asked the question. The employees had been excited to learn of the president’s visit. Why would any of them want the president dead? She’d never heard political talk of any sort among the staff members.
Emma bobbed her head. “I didn’t hear no names, but they got some sort of plan. I’m sure of it. They said something about some foreign places I never heard of and how President McKinley wants to take over the world.” She frowned. “What do you think we should do?”
Perspiration dampened Melinda’s palms. “I want you to keep this to yourself, Emma. We don’t know who can be trusted, so don’t mention one word of this to another soul. Is that clear?”
“But what—”
Melinda tapped the desk with her index finger. “Don’t say anything. I promise that I’ll take care of this. In the meantime, go and deliver the rest of the mail. And keep your eyes and ears open. If you see or hear anything else, let me know.”
Emma stared at the packet of mail. “You want me to go back up there?”
“If the mail isn’t delivered at the usual time, guests will wonder and ask questions. Just act normal.” Melinda pushed up from her chair. “Come on, I’ll walk to the foot of the stairs with you.”
“I’ll be doing me best to act normal, but I don’t know that I’m much good at hidin’ me fears.”
“You’ll do just fine.” Melinda gave her a reassuring smile. Men’s voices drifted from the second floor, followed by the dull thud of closing doors. Moments later, Preston Powers strode down the stairs and out the front door. Melinda watched him depart. Was he one of the men involved in those talks? She shivered at the thought. How silly! Preston was a gambler and man-about-town, not a devotee of politics.
Once Emma made her way to the second floor, Melinda returned to her office. As she was placing a sign on the door, she caught sight of another man near the stairway. Was that Mr. Mifflin? She strained sideways but could capture only a glimpse. It looked like him, but he would have no reason to be upstairs. A fleeting thought of the clandestine meeting crossed her mind, but she shook her head. Mr. and Mrs. Mifflin were dear friends of the McKinleys. She must have been mistaken.
Melinda’s heart pounded as she weighed what could be done. She needed help, but who could she trust? Certainly not Preston Powers, and though she disliked the thought, she couldn’t completely trust her own brother with such frightening information. Her thoughts whirled. Evan! He was the only one she could trust to keep her confidence and lend the help she would need.
She hurried out the side entrance, praying she could find Evan and explain. Once outside, Melinda spotted Paul standing alongside a brougham. Raising her arm, she waved her handkerchief overhead and ran toward him.
If any of the guests saw her, they’d surely think she’d gone mad. “Is Evan at the golf course?” She gasped for air and clasped a hand to her chest.
“Last I knew. Is something wrong, Miss Melinda?” The young man drew closer.
Melinda motioned toward the carriage. “Could you take me there, or have you come to pick up one of the guests?”
“I just delivered a group over here to the clubhouse and was fixing to return to the barn, but I can take you to the golf course.” He smiled and opened the carriage doo
r. “Evan sure is proud that he got nine holes of the course ready in time.” Paul extended his hand to help her into the carriage. “Just wait till you see how good it looks. Mr. Morley was mighty happy when he saw it, too. Sounds like he’s hoping to impress the president.”
Melinda was pleased to hear Mr. Morley had been impressed. Perhaps now he’d push the directors to give Evan his promotion. The buggy rolled past clumps of purple hyacinths and occasional groupings of bright yellow daffodils peeking through the tall grasses. The flowers exhibited their beauty and resilience now that the snow had disappeared and warmer temperatures had taken hold. If the landscape wasn’t in peak condition by the time the president arrived, it wouldn’t be from lack of effort. The employees had all been working long hours preparing for the visit.
Melinda rested her head against the black leather seat and closed her eyes. Silently she prayed that nothing would happen to the president during his visit to the island.
When they arrived at the golf course a short time later, Paul brought the carriage to a halt and called to Evan. “Got someone in the carriage who wants to speak to you!”
Paul jumped down and opened the door. “Maybe once he sees who I’ve brought, he’ll get over here.” The young man cupped his hands around his mouth. “Look who’s here, Evan!” He pointed toward Melinda and grinned. “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll get the carriage back to the barn. I reckon Garrison’s wondering where I am.”
“You go ahead, Paul. Thank you very much,” Melinda said.
She didn’t miss the look of disbelief in Evan’s eyes as he trotted toward her. She knew her arrival at the golf course would take him by surprise. “It looks wonderful, Evan.”
He turned his gaze to the rolling green sod that had been shipped to the island and laid a week ago. “Thank you.” His eyes sparkled with pleasure.
She gestured at the expanse. “I’m amazed at all you’ve accomplished. You have every right to be very proud.”
To Love and Cherish Page 26
