There's Always Tomorrow

by Darlene Mindrup

  “Adrella, think about it. Yours isn’t the only reputation to consider here.”

  She stared at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s not a man in this town that wouldn’t tar and feather me if I didn’t do right by you. And I wouldn’t blame them one bit. I would feel the same. They knew and loved your dad, they know and love you. They don’t really know anything about me.”

  The door opened behind them, and Mr. Evans cleared his throat uneasily. He must have thought her a raving Banshee the way she had railed at Dathan. He had offered the parlor for them to air their differences and Dathan had forced her into the room, firmly shutting the door behind him until he could speak to the minister alone and give her time to think.

  Well, she had had time to think, all right. Time to realize that she had foolishly fallen in love with a man she barely knew and who, until two weeks ago, had scarcely given her the time of day.

  Dathan had said they would be good together. What exactly did that mean? Was he tired of being alone? More to the point, was it true what he’d said? Would his reputation be tarnished if she didn’t agree to marry him? She couldn’t take that chance with someone else’s life.

  “Has Miss Murphy decided?” Mr. Evans asked hesitantly.

  Dathan slowly released Adrella, one dark eyebrow winging upward in question. His eyes never left hers.

  Adrella swallowed hard. “Yes, Mr. Evans,” she replied softly. “The answer is yes.”

  Chapter 8

  Adrella stood beside Dathan in her borrowed wedding finery. The dress was one Mrs. Evans had lent her after helping Adrella wash the grime from her tired body. The soft blue color did nothing for her complexion, her white face almost as pale as the material. It hung loosely on her petite frame, Mrs. Evans being a much more robust lady. Still, she wouldn’t complain. Anything was better than the tattered green dress she had worn for two weeks now. If she never saw a green dress again, it would be too soon.

  She was grateful to the minister’s wife for arranging a hot bath for her, allowing her a few minutes to settle her turbulent feelings. The bath and clean garments had refreshed her body, but her mind was still dull with fatigue and sorrow.

  What was she doing? Like any girl, she had dreamed about what her wedding would be like. After a few years, she had really given up hope, but the dreams were still there. They had always included a bridegroom standing beside her, smiling at her with love in his eyes. Not a taciturn man, mouth pressed tightly together as though to hold back the words he was expected to express.

  Dathan might not have been the smiling groom she envisioned in her dreams, but he was everything else she could have wished for. He had changed into clean clothes that Mr. Evans had procured for him somewhere, and he had taken the time to shave. Could a man be more breathtaking?

  Several of the people from Apalach who were staying in the church were here to witness her binding of herself to a man who apparently could barely stand to look at her. His grim countenance was hardly encouraging.

  The whispers around them made Adrella flinch inwardly. She had known these people for most of her life. How could they believe that she and Dathan would do something improper? How could they be willing to judge her so? After all that had happened to this town, after the things her father had done for them.

  “Adrella?”

  Adrella started at the minister’s voice. She stared at him uncomprehendingly. He coughed slightly.

  “I said, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  She glanced at Dathan’s set face, his eyes dark and unreadable. If only he would give some indication that he had some kind of feeling for her besides a chivalrous desire to protect her from gossip. She hesitated a moment too long and Dathan lifted a persuasive eyebrow.

  “I...I do.”

  He asked the same of Dathan and Dathan’s voice answered him loud and clear, unlike her own soft, stuttering reply.

  Mr. Evans glanced from one to the other. “Do you have a ring?”

  Adrella did. Her father’s ring. A ring that signified a loving commitment between two people who adored each other. How could she do this? Her father meant for that ring to go to the man she married, a man who would love her as her Da had her mother. There was over twenty years of love bound up in that gold band. She opened her mouth not knowing what she was about to say but was startled into silence by Dathan’s voice answering instead.

  “We do.”

  She stared at him in surprise, but before she could think of what to say, the minister continued with the service. The whole ceremony had become surreal. Somewhere along the line she had lost control of the whole situation. But then, had she ever been in control? From the time she had stepped into her father’s skiff until today, her life had taken an unexpected turn. Dathan’s voice was like an echo in a dream, seeming to come from far away.

  “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  He took her hand and slid on a delicate ring of sapphires encrusted with diamonds. Her jaw dropped in surprise. Where had he gotten such a beautiful ring? The twinkling of the gems in the soft candlelight was mesmerizing.

  “Adrella?”

  She blinked at Mr. Evans in confusion.

  “Your ring,” he prompted gently.

  She slowly removed the chain from around her neck that held both her father’s ring and the key to her father’s desk. She had placed the ring there for safekeeping against the hope that one day she would have a husband to give it to. Now that hope was being realized, but under dismaying conditions.

  She clutched the ring tightly in her hand, unable to bring herself to look at Dathan’s face.

  “Repeat after me,” the minister intoned. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  Adrella’s voice quavered as she repeated the lines. Sliding the ring onto Dathan’s finger, she finally looked up at him. The ring fit him perfectly. Was it perhaps a sign?

  He glanced from her to the ring and for the first time he smiled and she was reassured somewhat, some of the strain sliding from her tense shoulders.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Dathan’s kiss was brief and, she felt sure, must have been meant to be reassuring. Instead it only gave her more questions. It was nothing like the kiss they had shared on the island. That kiss had shattered her world.

  Dathan had to keep her from pitching forward as the room swam dizzily around her. What had once seemed surreal was now frighteningly concrete. Oh, what on earth had she gotten herself into?

  * * *

  Dathan had left Adrella with the minister’s wife while he tried to make arrangements about provisions to take back to the island. Mr. Carson from the Lighthouse Board had agreed to meet him at the lumberyard to see what could be furnished in the way of supplies to rebuild the keeper’s house.

  In the meantime they would have to manage as best they could with what little they could find. Everyone here was in the same situation, but if you had money, money talked. And he had money. Only one more thing that needed to be discussed with his new bride.

  Just the word brought him up short. He had really done it! He had married a woman he barely knew in order to fulfill a promise to a man he had greatly admired. He and Adrella were so very different it would take some maneuvering to make this work, but he was determined to try.

  He felt a little guilty using guile to coerce her into marriage, but it was the only thing he could think of. He knew that she would have been willing to put up
with a ruined reputation rather than marry a man she didn’t love, but she couldn’t bear the thought of him doing the same. At the same time, what he had said was probably more than a little bit true. He had noticed some of the men glaring at him, and while he wasn’t concerned what anyone thought, he had used it to his advantage. He was thankful that they would be on the island and not here in town.

  His parents would be livid. He knew that they had someone already picked out for him back in New York, someone who would grace a mansion and help further the Adams kingdom. They were just waiting for him to “come to his senses” as his father had stated it. They had been waiting for seven years. A wry smile tilted his lips. He sure hoped Evangeline wasn’t still waiting as well.

  Not that he had anything against Evangeline. She was everything a society wife should be: beautiful, cultured, talented. When she walked into a room draped in jewels and the most expensive clothes money could buy, all heads turned her way.

  Trying to imagine Adrella in such a setting was enough to boggle the mind. Still, it gave him a sense of extreme satisfaction to have thwarted his parents’ plans for his life. He and his father had never seen eye to eye on the important things of life. And unlike his parents, Adrella was a Christian in the true sense of the word.

  As he made his way toward the warehouse, he noticed that the streets were becoming more deserted as the day wore on. Those who intended to stay and rebuild were headed for the night to either the church or one of the other homes and warehouses that were still standing. He picked up his pace, knowing he hadn’t much time to get back to the island.

  He reached the lumber mill and heard the sound of machinery busily preparing the wood that would be necessary to rebuild this small town. The lumber mill had withstood the storm well and was producing as fast as was humanly possible, but with the amount of planking necessary, it would be some time before orders were completed.

  “Dathan. Over here.”

  Dathan turned at Mr. Carson’s call. He was standing next to the mill owner and both men were watching as he crossed over to them.

  “Hello, Mr. Panganopolis,” Dathan called in greeting. The old Greek had been here since long before the war. He had made his fortune felling trees and producing the turpentine the area had become known for.

  “Dathan.”

  “Mr. Panganopolis says that it might be some time before he can get the lumber for the lightkeeper’s cottage,” Mr. Carson told him.

  Dathan looked to Mr. Panganopolis for verification. The other man nodded.

  “’Fraid so, Dathan. I can only do so much at a time and I’m pretty much booked solid.”

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, Dathan rocked back on his heels. “How much would it take to make the keeper’s cottage a priority?”

  Mr. Panganopolis cleared his throat uneasily. “Well, Dathan. It’s not a matter of money. People in this town need somewhere to live as well.” He motioned with a hand. “You can see how it is. Folks gotta have a house, specially when they have young ’uns.”

  Dathan understood that well enough, but he wasn’t about to have Adrella sleeping in a tent any longer than necessary. The mosquitoes were already eating her alive. She had put up with more than any woman should have to, and he was determined to take better care of her in the future. He had never used his money to work his way before, but he was about to do so now.

  “How much?”

  “Now see here, Dathan,” Mr. Carson objected. “The department that oversees the lighthouses only has so much money allotted and more than your island was affected.”

  “I understand that,” he agreed, still watching Mr. Panganopolis. “How much and how long?”

  The other two men exchanged glances. The lumberman shrugged. “If I could hire more people, two weeks.” He held up a hand as Dathan was about to speak. “But the men in this town are busy trying to rebuild their own homes.”

  “And I suppose these men are getting their lumber on credit?”

  Mr. Panganopolis frowned. “Well, of course. It will be some time before they get their fishing businesses up and going again. It’ll take time, but I have faith they will repay when they can.”

  Dathan was impressed with the man’s genuine concern. His father wouldn’t have thought twice about calling someone’s debt. It was encouraging to know there were still people who had their priorities in life straight. He had to wonder if his own were.

  “I’m asking again, how much?”

  The fact that he was acting like his father when he wanted to get his way was extremely unsettling. He felt a little niggle of guilt that he quickly squashed. He was doing this for Adrella.

  “Right now I’m trying to give the lumber at as close to cost as I can manage. Twenty cents a foot,” Mr. Panganopolis told him.

  “I’ll give you a dollar and in cash. I’ll take all that wood over there to begin with.”

  Both men’s jaws dropped at this announcement and they stared at him as though he had grown two heads.

  “There is no way the department will authorize such,” Mr. Carson told him angrily.

  “I wasn’t suggesting they do,” Dathan refuted. “I will pay for it.”

  “You!” Both men spoke in unison.

  Dathan nodded. “That’s right. I will stop by the bank and make arrangements to have money wired here.”

  Since the bank was made of brick as well as the church, it was one of the few buildings still standing as well. He doubted, though, that the bank owner, Jasper Howard, would be allowing people to camp out in his building like the minister and others whose establishments had fared better than most. Jasper was a mean-spirited, selfish little man and it galled Dathan to have to do business with him, but he would swallow his pride ten times over if it meant a proper place for Adrella to live.

  The lumberman shrugged helplessly. “It’s not just about money. Other people got a right to a home as well as you.”

  “I agree,” he told him. “At eighty cents a foot profit though, you should be able to hire more men which should make the process that much faster, and you will still make a hefty profit for yourself.”

  The older man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s true enough. I could send a wire to Mobile and see if there’s any men that need the work. Maybe some of the men in Apalach would be willing to work a half day for their own planking and that would give them a half day to build on their own homes as well.”

  Dathan doubted if he would have a problem finding help since so many men coming back from the war were still trying to find their way back onto their financial feet.

  Mr. Carson said nothing, but his look spoke volumes. He crossed his arms, shaking his head. “And do you have that much money, Mr. Adams?” he inquired icily. “The department can hire men from outside the area, but not without funds.”

  “I do. Now, do we have a deal, or not?”

  The two men looked at each other. Mr. Panganopolis shrugged and held out his hand. “We do. You get the money, and I’ll get you the lumber.”

  “Done,” Dathan told him.

  * * *

  Adrella paced the halls of the church waiting for Dathan’s return. Grace was cuddled against her shoulder. The kitten’s silky fur tickling her chin and her soft purring brought a slight smile to Adrella’s face. In the short time she’d had the kitten she had fallen in love with her.

  Mrs. Evans had allowed her to wash the kitten and had given her a clean rag to wrap it in. Its shivering was
only now subsiding.

  “Poor baby,” Adrella whispered, cuddling it closer but taking care not to hurt its injured hindquarters. A small fragment of wood had impaled the kitten’s back leg, but Dathan had removed it and bandaged the cut.

  The kitten reminded her of herself, lost and hurting. But whereas the kitten’s hurt was physical, hers was more mental. She had been chiding herself for the past few hours over her sudden marriage. She was still having a hard time accepting it as a reality. How then must Dathan be feeling?

  Yes, she loved Dathan, but she should never have taken advantage of his sense of duty. She had talked herself into believing everything would be all right because of her own love for Dathan. She had fully convinced herself that that one soul-stirring kiss on the island had shown that he had feelings for her as well. Maybe not love, but something that could grow into it in time. His face when taking his vows told her otherwise.

  He had said they needed each other, but was that really true? It had been common in Ireland for people to marry for expediency, but that was no excuse. She should have known better. Frustrated at her own circular reasoning, she flung herself down on a chair and sighed.

  Had she done Dathan irreparable harm by marrying him, or would the greater harm have been in not marrying him? The thought of an annulment fled her mind as swiftly as it had come. Vows before God were sacred and not to be taken lightly. And Dathan? She had never met a man who was so duty bound.

  The door opened and Dathan walked in. He gave her a brief glance before setting down a burlap bag that he had slung over his shoulder.