Zanna jerked to attention and hissed through pursed lips until he looked at her. “What do you mean we’re going to town and purchase food? I’ve already explained—”
He lightly grasped her elbow and steered her back toward the path. “I have been thinking about the food, Miss Krykos, and I am guessing that things in this country are not much different than they are back in Greece.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” She had no idea what he had in mind, but she knew she didn’t have enough money to purchase food for fifty hungry men.
He smiled. “Then I will be happy to tell you. Back in Greece when we go to the market and maybe we haven’t yet sold our sponges or a fisherman hasn’t yet sold his catch, we have the owner make a ticket we sign that says how much we owe. And later when we have received our money, we go back to the market and pay. I think it must be the same here in America.”
“Well, that’s somewhat true. There are people who have an account at the general stores, but my papa has always taught us that unless we have the money to pay for something, we do not need it.”
“If your papa had hungry children, I’m sure he would change his mind, don’t you think?”
“He would not let us starve, but . . .”
Nico held a branch back so she could pass. “I want you to think of those men out there as my children, Zanna. They are hungry and they need to eat.” He pointed his finger back and forth between them. “You and me, we are going to find a way to feed my hungry children.”
Her mind raced as they strode back to town. Nico remained silent when they passed the dressmaker’s shop and the drug store, but then he came to a halt in front of a food display in the window of Alderman’s. He arched his brows. “Let’s go in here.”
While she wasn’t certain whether Mr. Alderman would consider Nico’s idea, she decided not to argue. As soon as they had stepped inside, Nico went to a barrel of potatoes and began to fill a sack. Zanna grabbed his hand. “Stop. We need to first speak to the owner and see if he’ll agree to sell on credit.”
She’d barely uttered the words when Mrs. Alderman approached. “Hello, Zanna. How may I help you?” Her gaze wandered toward Nico, who had taken a position directly behind Zanna.
He nudged Zanna’s arm. “Tell her we need food.”
A hint of fear shone in the older woman’s eyes. “Is this man bothering you, Zanna?”
“No. This is Nico Sevdalis. He and forty-nine other men recently arrived in Tarpon Springs. They’re from Greece.” The remainder of her explanation was given in fits and starts. First Nico would interrupt with a question, and then Mrs. Alderman would make another inquiry. When Zanna had finally explained that they wanted to purchase groceries on credit, Mrs. Alderman’s shoulders sagged.
“I do wish you would have said that in the very beginning. My husband doesn’t sell on credit to anyone who hasn’t lived in Tarpon Springs for a least a year. I’m so sorry, but you could try Mr. Wharton. He might consider opening an account for Mr. Sedalis.”
“Sevdalis. Nico Sevdalis,” Zanna said. “Thank you for your time. We’ll go over to Mr. Wharton’s before he closes.”
She tugged on Nico’s sleeve as she conveyed Mrs. Alderman’s refusal and their need to hurry to Mr. Wharton’s store. He yanked loose of her hold and turned to Mrs. Alderman. “I am an honest man who pays. You should let me buy food for my men.”
“She doesn’t understand you, Nico, and we don’t have time to argue. Come on.” Zanna marched out of the store and hoped he would follow.
She’d taken only a few steps when he came alongside her. “You should have told her what I said. That’s what interpreters are for. Am I right?” He arched his brows and pressed his forefinger against his chest.
“Yes, but she wouldn’t have changed her mind, and we didn’t have time to argue.” She marched forward and remained silent until they arrived at the store. Her shoes clicked a steady rhythm on the wooden floor of Mr. Wharton’s grocery. The balding owner approached from the rear of the store and glanced at the clock above the door. “We close soon, Zanna.”
She nodded and hurried to explain Nico’s need to purchase on credit. Mr. Wharton hesitated, but then agreed to a five-dollar credit limit. Zanna gulped. “He needs to purchase enough food for fifty men, Mr. Wharton. Five dollars won’t be enough. Please, won’t you help?”
He frowned, then shrugged. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you agree to be responsible if he fails to pay, I’ll raise the limit to twenty-five dollars. What do you say?”
The thought of being accountable for the debt didn’t sit well, but she could think of no other solution. The men needed to eat. She dipped her head in a faint nod. “Agreed,” she whispered.
Mr. Wharton opened his arms wide and looked at them. “Pick out whatever you want, bring it to the counter, and I’ll tally it for you.”
Zanna decided it would be unwise to give Nico an exact recounting of the store owner’s offer. She didn’t want him spending any more than necessary. “You need to make wise choices. Don’t select anything other than what is necessary. Remember that you and the men will be able to fish. We can purchase whatever you need to set lines tonight.”
While Nico surveyed the shelves and began to gather items, Zanna remained close on his heels. Whenever she thought an item extravagant, she returned it to the shelf. On a couple of occasions, he attempted to argue, but she won out. If she was going to be partially responsible for the debt, then Nico was going to have to be frugal.
When they finally returned to the campsite, the men had a fire going and had drawn lots to see who would sleep in the huts and who would sleep outside. Several of the men volunteered to set fishing lines while others inspected their purchases.
Nightfall would soon be upon them and Zanna needed to get home. She drew near to Nico’s side. “I’m going to leave now. If I don’t return home before nightfall, my papa will worry.”
He grinned. “I wouldn’t want your papa to worry. I’ll escort you.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. You need to help your men get settled.” In truth, she didn’t relish the idea of walking back through the overgrowth by herself. Yet if she wanted to gain the respect of these men, she couldn’t appear weak.
“So how did you enjoy your first day as a manager, Miss Krykos?”
Nico’s question drifted on the breeze as she pushed her way through the underbrush, heading toward home. She didn’t answer.
She was determined to make this work.
CHAPTER
6
Burdened by the day’s events, Zanna plodded toward home with her stomach growling, a reminder that she hadn’t yet eaten. That morning she’d rushed out of the house without breakfast, and with the arrival of the telegram, she’d remained deep in discussion with Lucy when noonday arrived. She would surely eat more than her share at dinner tonight. The thought was enough to slow her step. A warm meal would be waiting for her, but those men out in the marsh—would they be able to concoct something palatable in that large iron kettle Nico had included among their purchases?
One thing was certain: They wouldn’t be eating anytime soon if they cooked in that huge pot. It would take an hour simply to boil water in the thing. Zanna had encouraged him to purchase several smaller kettles rather than one large pot, but he’d ignored her—likely because she couldn’t tell him how to make fish stew.
His words rang in her ears. “A Greek woman who cannot cook should not give me instructions about what size cooking vessel I will need.”
She had been quick to tell him that he was too filled with pride to take any woman’s suggestion. That remark had ended their discussion. The gigantic kettle was the first thing he had placed on Mr. Wharton’s counter. She hoped the men wouldn’t suffer because of her remark—or because she couldn’t recite a recipe for fish stew.
“Zanna!” Her father’s voice pulled her from thoughts of Nico and his chiding remark. Taking long strides, her father loped toward her with the agi
lity of a man half his age. “When those Greeks who are coming to work for Dr. Penrose get here, they should be happy.”
“Why is that, Papa?” She wasn’t yet ready to tell him they’d already arrived and were encamped out in the marshes, or that she’d accepted the position as their manager. A long and heated argument would ensue when she divulged those facts, and she was far too weary for a quarrel with her father.
“Their boats are here—three of them. They’re at the main dock. I saw them earlier today but only from a distance. I talked to Frank Rudman at the coffeehouse. He says they are fine boats, different from the ones I build. Dr. Penrose should go over to the docks in the morning. She will need to hire someone to look after the boats until her crews are here.”
The news startled Zanna. She attempted to recall what Nico had said about the boats when they were at the train station. Did he know the boats were arriving today? “Maybe I should go and tell Lucy now. She may want to have someone go to the dock before morning.”
Her father shook his head. “They will be fine. Frank’s a good night watchman. He won’t let anyone damage or board those boats.”
Nico would likely prefer some of his own men sleep on the boats, but she wasn’t going to return to their camp—not tonight. She’d trust her father’s advice and hope Frank kept a close watch on Lucy’s investment.
During supper she weighed her earlier decision. Had the boats not arrived, she would have remained silent. But to say nothing of the men’s arrival after hearing her father’s news would likely lead to future problems with her family. Besides, she’d already accepted the position as manager, and once the men knew the boats had arrived, they would swarm the docks, eager to board and make certain they were seaworthy. Weary or not, she must speak up now.
“I have something I must tell you. I’m worried you won’t be pleased, Papa.”
Her brothers leaned forward, their eyes dancing with expectation. Homer liked nothing more than listening in on a family conflict that didn’t involve him.
Yayá pushed from the table and held a finger to her lips. “No talk until later. All day I worked to make ekmek kataifi for dessert. I will not have it ruined with unhappy news.” Her grandmother placed a serving of Zanna’s favorite dessert in front of each of them, then sat down. “Eat!”
When Zanna attempted to speak, Yayá silenced her with a look that the grandchildren referred to as the “evil eye.” She cut through the creamy top layer, then pushed her fork into the crispy, golden kataifi dough. The sweet dessert lodged around the words that stuck in her throat. Until now, she’d never wished for an evening meal without dessert.
When they’d finally finished their dessert, her father poured strong dark coffee from a briki into the small cup in front of him. He leaned back in his chair. “Now, what is it you need to tell me, Zanna?”
“The Greek crews arrived earlier today. On the three o’clock train. It was very unexpected. Lucy received a telegram only hours before the train arrived. I was at her office when she received word. As you can imagine, she was completely unprepared.”
Atticus chuckled. “She wouldn’t have been prepared no matter when they arrived.”
“Don’t interrupt.” Her father shot a warning look at her brother. “Continue, Zanna.”
“I know you weren’t in complete agreement with my desire to help Lucy, but under the circumstances . . . I mean, with the men arriving early and her being totally unprepared . . . I told her I would take charge.” She watched her father’s face for signs of anger. Instead, she detected disappointment in his eyes. “I didn’t want to disobey you, Papa, but Lucy is my friend and she needed my help.” She inhaled a quick breath. “I know you don’t approve, but I’ve given her my word.”
Her father rubbed his palm along his stubbled jaw. “You are right that I don’t approve.” He took a sip of the steaming coffee. “You are a smart young woman. Sometimes too smart for your own good, I think. You must know you will face great opposition. Those Greek divers will not be pleased to learn a woman is in charge, and I don’t think the buyers coming here from the big cities will want to do business with a woman, either. Your challenges will be far greater than my disapproval.”
“I don’t expect you to give me your blessing, Papa. I only seek your approval to let me try.”
“Here is what I will agree to, Zanna.” Her father glanced at her grandmother. “I will do nothing to stop you from helping your friend. You have given your word and you should keep it.”
“Oh, thank you—”
“Let me finish.” He pushed his coffee cup aside. “You know your mother and I want you to marry and have babies.” She opened her mouth, but he waved her to silence before she could speak. “You want to help your friend and manage her business. So, here is what I propose: You help your friend until it is clear the business will either succeed or fail. At that time, Dr. Penrose should be prepared to step in herself or else hire a successor.”
“But why? If the business succeeds, I’d want to continue. And if it is a failure, she will need a lawyer to help her dissolve the assets.”
He shook his head. “I will agree to what I’ve said. Once the business is either a success or a failure, you and your grandmother will sail for Greece where she will find you a good Greek man, and you will marry.”
Everything within Zanna railed against the condition. Was this the only way to gain her father’s approval? She searched for an alternative. Lucy, for all the trouble she’d been recently, was her dearest friend. She had to help her. She had to concede. At least for now. By the time the business was operational, perhaps she’d find some way to change his mind.
“You agree?” Her father arched his bushy brows and waited.
“I’ll agree as long as you know it’s not what I want to do.”
He hiked a shoulder and let it drop. “I don’t want to agree to let my daughter take charge of fifty men and work on the docks, either. It is up to you, Zanna.”
She nodded. “Whatever you say.”
Atticus whooped and slapped his pant leg. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear my sister agree she’d travel to Greece to find a husband.”
She glared at him. “Don’t get too excited, Atticus. I haven’t boarded a ship just yet.”
He bobbed his head. “That’s true. And you might even find a husband among those fifty spongers. Any of them look promising?”
She longed to reach across the table and pinch his arm as she’d done when they were children. Instead, she kicked him under the table where no one could see. His eyes widened in surprise, and she curved her lips in a sweet smile when he leaned down to rub his shin.
“My daughter is not going to marry a man who goes out to sea as a fisherman or a sponger. That is no life for any woman—always waiting and worrying if he would be among the men lost at sea during a storm.” Her mother grimaced. “I don’t want that for my child. In Greece, Yayá will find her a man who can be at her side every night.”
Atticus grinned. “That will be nice, won’t it, Zanna? A husband at your side every night?”
She leveled him with a hard stare. “What about Atticus? He’s older than me. Why isn’t Yayá taking him to Greece to find a wife?”
“I need him here to help with the business.” Her father’s curt response was enough to curtail further exploration of the subject, but Zanna considered his reasoning rather one-sided. Why was it so important she find a husband, yet Atticus could remain single?
The following morning, Zanna was up before the sun. She donned a tailored white shirtwaist and a dark-brown gored skirt trimmed with covered buttons and satin tabs. Instead of her patent-tipped shoes, she chose a pair of serviceable low-heeled boots and hoped her appearance would signify she was prepared to work.
She stopped by Lucy’s office to inform her that the boats had arrived, but her friend wasn’t interested. While Zanna remained in the center of the room, Lucy rushed about the office in search of one medical instrument after another. “Di
d you hear what I said, Lucy? The boats are here now. Do you want to go down to the docks with me to make certain everything is in order?”
“What?” Lucy stopped and stared at her. “No. I don’t want to look at boats. I thought you said you’d take care of everything for me. I can’t possibly go to the docks. I’m on my way to deliver the Faraday baby.”
“I’m more than willing to take care of it, Lucy, but I wanted you to have an opportunity to assess the boats if you’d like. The boats were a large portion of your father’s investment.”
“You don’t need to remind me.” Lucy closed her black doctor’s bag with a snap. “I trust your judgment, Zanna. You don’t need to include me in any of the business decisions.” She patted Zanna’s arm. “You’re the one who grew up in the home of a boat builder. I don’t know one boat from another, so I couldn’t render an opinion even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.” She smiled and stepped around Zanna. “I’m off to the Faradays’. I don’t know when I’ll be back to town. Do whatever you must to keep everything afloat.”
Zanna smiled at her friend’s choice of words. She had hoped Lucy would at least inquire how the reminder of yesterday had unfolded and whether the men had encamped on the Penrose acreage. But she hadn’t. In some respects, Lucy’s lack of interest was a good thing. Having to seek her approval at every turn would only delay the process.
A branch snapped, and Zanna started. “Nico! I didn’t see you.”
“You should watch where you’re going. There are all sorts of creatures out here, and I think most of them visited our camp last night.”
She shivered. “I came early to tell you that the boats have arrived at the docks. As soon as you’ve had breakfast, we can go and inspect them.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “We?” He gestured toward the crew. “You mean me and some of my men.”
She jerked at his response. “No, I mean you and me. If you want to bring some of the other men, that’s fine, but I’m the manager and I want to inspect the boats.”
The Lady of Tarpon Springs Page 5
