by Cathy Marie Hake, Lynn A. Coleman, Mary Davis, Susan Page Davis
Chapter 2
Ellis caught Jed’s chastising glance and realized he had been abrupt, possibly even rude, with Miss Smith. Quickly coming to his own defense, he rationalized how women on Key West were rare commodities, and to know he was going to have a beautiful one in his house with a tender loving touch … he would definitely need to be on his guard.
She nodded in his direction, her lips tight, her jaw tense. Yes sir, this woman will definitely need to be kept at a distance. Even angry she looked appealing. With all the men on Key West, Miss Smith would surely have more invitations to social activities than he’d had for the past year. Ellis felt oddly uncomfortable with the prospect. It might be best to have the temptation of a pretty face gone. On the other hand, the idea of another man … Well, he just wouldn’t allow himself to follow that particular line of thinking.
“I have a carriage to bring your baggage to the house,” he said, trying to ease the tension.
“Uncle Ellis, do you have a boat?”
“Yes, a small one. Did you enjoy the sail from New York, Richard?”
“Yes, Sir. I’ve never been on a sailboat before.”
“May I suggest, on the evenings I’m able, we go for a sail and perhaps do some fishing.”
“Can I, Nanna?”
“Of course, Dear. Whatever your uncle Ellis would like. He’s your parent now.”
Richard knitted his brows. “My daddy died in the war.”
“I know, Son.” Ellis was still coming to terms with his brother’s death. He was amazed at how well the child was handling the tragedy.
“Did you know my daddy?”
“We were brothers. I grew up with him.” Ellis looked over to Miss Smith. What had she told the lad about him? She glanced away after acknowledging she had discussed him with the child.
“Nanna told me you were my daddy’s brother. I don’t have a brother.”
“I know, Richard,” Ellis replied.
“But Billy has a brother, and his brother lives with him. How come you didn’t live with my daddy?”
Ellis reached for Richard’s hand, then thought better of it. He was so timid a few minutes ago. He didn’t want to spook the child. “That, Son, is a very long story. Let me take you to my home and get Miss Smith out of this hot sun.”
Richard nodded.
“Mistress Smith, my carriage is this way.” Ellis thought long and hard, trying to remember the woman’s first name, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember. He was not a man given to forgetfulness. This was indeed something else to ponder. She seemed as beguiling as some of the stories he’d heard of sea sirens in ancient mythology.
Her thick, dark dress would be far too exhausting in this region. He hoped she had brought her summer apparel, as he had requested, along with Richard’s belongings. A simple wool coat for the coldest of days in the winter was all that was needed. He reckoned she didn’t have a clue what November in the Florida Straits would be like. At least her hat had a wide brim and would protect her fair skin from the hot rays of the sun.
Bea followed Ellis Southard’s lead. He seemed to talk with compassion to Richard, and he certainly gave him his full attention. She found this a surprising and welcome relief, compared to the way most adults generally ignored children.
The port was busy. Ships of all shapes and sizes lined the harbor. Few horses and carriages lined the streets, but activity flourished. She had tried to learn about this island, so new to the territory, but little was written. Richard Sr. had informed her of a troop of Union soldiers stationed on the island from the beginning of the Civil War, and she had seen the fort. He had wanted to be stationed here, in the hope of spending some time with his brother, but Richard had spent most of his time in Virginia and other areas of heavy fighting.
Bea wondered if Ellis was a Southern sympathizer. The war was over, but she knew so little of the man. Her mother had told her, on more than one occasion, political matters were for men and she’d best not get involved. For the most part she heeded her mother’s admonition, but only due to the fact she was busy caring for a small child. At one point she had followed Elizabeth’s instructions and buried the family silver in the yard. It had been passed down for several generations and no war, no matter what the issue, would take that away from the Southards. They, of course, had fed many of the troops as they worked their way south. Never had she felt her life, or little Richard’s, was in danger, but it was a weary time. Reports of families being torn apart, brothers fighting against brothers, cousins against cousins—such an ugly mess.
However, Bea was convinced slavery was cruel and heartless. Now, as she looked around the island, she saw black men, white men, and Hispanics working side by side. Could this place truly be a paradise?
She fanned herself. The sun was high in the sky and she was suffocating. Why had she worn such a heavy dress today? The first several days at sea were cold. Very cold. But the last two days, the temperatures had been warming. Now, the intense heat of the bright afternoon sun against the perfect sky of blue made her thirsty and a bit weak.
She needed to get out of these warm clothes. “Pardon me, Mr. Southard. How far must we travel until we reach your home?”
“Not far at all. The island is quite small. You could walk to my home in a few minutes’ time.”
Walk? The idea worried her. “I thought you said you had a carriage?”
“I did, and I do. As soon as we arrive at my home I’ll show you the guest house. You’ll be staying in the cottage, and Richard will be staying with me in the main house.”
The guest house? She wouldn’t be sleeping next to Richard? What if he cried out for her in the middle of the night? Of course he hadn’t done that for a long time, not since he was sick the last time, but still….
“Miss Smith, I don’t believe it is proper for a man to have a single woman in his home without staff who also live in the home.”
“Oh.” Bea blushed. He did have a point. But she was the child’s nanny. Wasn’t that considered staff?
“Since you’re no longer the child’s nanny, I think it improper.”
Could he read her mind? Bea nodded and bit back her counterargument. As far as she was concerned, she was more than a nanny to Richard. But he was right. Her time of releasing and letting the child go had come. “A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing,” Ecclesiastes 3:5, came to mind. Wasn’t that the scripture the Lord had been working on her heart for months now? Bea let out a deep breath and stepped up into the carriage while Ellis stowed their baggage.
The carriage moved slowly from the docks. The variety of trees, flowers, and unfamiliar sights took Bea’s mind off her present discomfort. Farther in from the shore were more trees and a gentle breeze. Mixed with the shade, they eased her discomfort.
The house, a two-story wooden structure with shutters, stood proudly within a tropical garden. Fruit trees of every imaginable kind lined the yard. In the rear of the yard stood a cute cottage, looking to Bea for all the world as if a ship were buried in the earth from the deck down. The cottage gave the appearance of a ship’s cabin, perhaps the captain’s quarters.
Ellis jumped down and helped Bea to the ground. His firm hands on her waist as he guided her down the long step from the carriage gave her reason to catch his eyes, blue gray and as deep as the northern seas.
He released her the instant her feet were on the ground. Her sides ached for his touch. Bea shook her head slightly, fussing with herself to take a logical approach to all this. She suddenly felt faint from the heat. She’d been to sea for days, perhaps her equilibrium was off. The sight of a handsome face certainly couldn’t account for it, especially since the man was so impersonal and seemed to care only for the harsh reality of profit-making.
“The guest cottage was a ship’s cabin. The former owner of this property, Captain Curtis, salvaged it and turned it into this cottage.”
“It’s quite unique.” The place really was charming, she had to admit. But she was
still agitated over Ellis’s comment at the boat about her coddling Richard. Perhaps feminine words and gestures are not endearing to the gentleman, she thought, fighting back the sarcasm.
“I trust you will find everything you need. Dinner is served at five—you’ll join us for meals.”
Was that an order? Bea fought down her defensive posture and thanked him.
He pointed out the outdoor water closet and other necessities for her comfort.
Richard pouted. “I want to stay with Nanna.”
“Richie, your uncle Ellis has a room just for you in his big house.” Bea stroked his blond hair and smiled.
“Son.” Ellis knelt down beside the child. He’d done that before. Maybe he did have a heart of compassion for the lad. “If after seeing your new room you still wish to spend the night out here in the cottage, it will be all right. Miss Smith will be close by. In fact, you can look out your window and see her cottage.”
“Really?” Richard’s eyes implored his uncle’s. Two pairs of similar eyes searched each other. Bea turned. She couldn’t allow Richard to see her pain.
“Naturally. Shall I show you your new room so that Miss Smith can have some privacy and gain some comfort from this heat?”
Richard propelled himself from the cottage. He has only just met his uncle, Bea lamented silently, and is already willing to leave me, even forgetting to say good-bye. Tears edged her eyes. No, she wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not yet. Later, perhaps. When no one would know.
The memory of Miss Smith’s delicate waist in his hands to aid her descent from his carriage had reinforced his decision to put her in the guesthouse. Face-to-face, day in, day out with a beautiful woman, together with the present shortage of women on the island, would press any sane man to his limits. He couldn’t fault little Richie for wanting to stay close to her. Who wouldn’t?
He mounted the porch stairs of his newly acquired home two at a time. “Come on, Richard, let me show you to your brand-new room.” Curious in Miss Smith’s presence, he’d felt the need to be formal, dignified, quite the opposite of his normal boisterous self. He reached down and scooped Richard up, placing him on his shoulders. “So tell me, Son. Does your Nanna have a first name?”
“Nanna!”
Of course. Wasn’t his own mother always “Mom”? Ellis chuckled. “I guess I should say, what do other people call Miss Smith?”
“Bea.”
Bea. Beatrice. That’s it! How could he have forgotten? After all, that was his maternal grandmother’s name.
“So, do you like fishing, Richard?”
Ellis could feel the child nod against the back of his head and neck. “Here we are, Son, do you like it?” Together they surveyed the room’s single oak-framed bed, an old sea captain’s chest he had purchased for the child’s toys, and a small chest of drawers he had acquired from a recent wrecking expedition. A small bamboo fishing pole leaned up against the chest of drawers, just the right size for a young boy. One of the things Ellis enjoyed about Key West was the variety of items that came to port. Wrecking, or rather ship salvaging, had been the island’s primary income before the war, as ships from around the world ran aground off the various coral reefs.
He settled Richard down to the floor and watched as the lad soaked up his surroundings. His eyes focused on the fishing pole.
“For me?”
“For you. I thought perhaps we could go fishing together. Would you like that?”
Richard nodded his head and tentatively reached for the pole.
“Go ahead, pick it up.” Ellis sat on the bed. “How does it feel in your hands?”
Richard worked his tongue between his teeth as he held the pole in his hands, his eyes wide with excitement. Ellis breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know anything about raising kids but figured he’d focus on things he had enjoyed doing when he was a boy.
His only problem would be caring for the child when he was at work. He had been prone to spend long days away from the house, sunup to sundown. With young Richard now depending on him, he would have to adjust his schedule. But he would need to work, and he would need a nanny to watch over the lad.
His mind raced back to the beautiful woman in his guest house. He hoped she was well. She had looked completely exhausted from the heat. He made a mental note to talk with Cook and have some lemonade taken over to her. She would need to drink a lot to become acclimated to this climate.
“Uncle Ellis? Can Nanna go fishing with us?”
“If she would like.” He hadn’t known many women from New York who liked to fish. Here in Key West it wasn’t unusual, but someone from New York … well, he’d never seen it. “Have you been fishing before?”
Richard nodded his head. It seemed he didn’t speak often. Ellis wondered if it was just shyness.
“Who took you fishing? Your daddy?”
“Nanna. Daddy was at war.” Richard placed the pole back where he had found it.
She took the boy fishing? Hmm, maybe she doesn’t coddle the child after all. “Did she teach you to bait a hook?”
“Nanna does that. She says it’s hard to get the worm to stay on the hook.”
Ellis grinned. The image of the fair-skinned, very proper young woman wrapping a worm on a hook intrigued him.
“Well, let me introduce you to Cook.”
“Cook?”
“She’s someone I hired to prepare meals and do some cleaning for me.”
Richard knitted his eyebrows together. “Nanna cooks.”
“Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
Ellis scooped the child into his arms and had him ride on his hip. A pleasing sense of comfort seemed to wrap the inside of his body even as little Richard’s small frame wrapped the outside. He hoped and prayed it brought comfort to Richard as well.
“Good afternoon, Cook. How are you today?”
“Fine, Mr. Ellis. Would this be young Master Southard I’ve been hearin’ about?”
“That’s right. Richard, this is Cook. Cook, this is Richard, my nephew.”
“Fine lookin’ young lad. He has your eyes, Mr. Ellis. But his hair is much fairer than yours.”
“My mommy had blond hair,” Richard stated proudly. “Nanna says I have her hair.”
“Nanna?” Cook inquired.
“Nanna is his term for his nanny. She’s in the guest house. Would you be so kind as to run over and give her some of your fine lemonade?”
“No, Sir, but I’ll give her some limeade.”
Ellis chuckled. “Whatever you think best, Cook.” He turned to Richard, still in his arms. “Richard, do you wish to explore the house or help me with your baggage?”
“Can I explore?”
“Sure can. I haven’t explored it all yet. If you find anything of interest, let me know.” Ellis watched the boy run out of the kitchen and down the hall.
Cook’s broad smile disappeared from her dark, round face. “Now, why is the boy’s nanny out all alone in the guest house?” she demanded, planting her strong hands on ample hips, her full figure going rigid.
“Because you won’t move into my house. How’s a man to keep up with proper etiquette if he has a single woman living with him?”
“Fiddlesticks, ain’t no high society image here to maintain. What’s the real reason? I fixed up the spare room, just like you asked.”
Chapter 3
Ellis shifted nervously. He’d never been able to keep Cook from prying. The woman was incredible. He couldn’t imagine her children ever getting away with anything. “Once you meet her, you’ll understand.”
“Ah, so she struck your fancy.”
Ellis blushed. A retreat was his only option, before she learned more than he had a mind to let her know. “Please, take her some limeade.” He turned around and quickly made his exit. Two steps out of the room, he heard Cook chuckling under her breath.
Inventory ledgers, exporting records—all needed posting. Ellis tried for the fifteenth time to concentrate on the books before him. He dabbed
the pen in the inkwell one more time. He had planned the day off, giving himself and his nephew time to get acquainted. He hadn’t planned on his nephew’s nanny creating within him a driving force to flee back to work at the docks.
Maybe that isn’t a bad idea. Ellis pushed back his chair and walked over to the window facing the small cottage. His hands clasped behind his back, he stood there, staring absentmindedly. A moment later Cook scurried toward the cottage with a tray and a pitcher of limeade. He watched as the door opened, but Miss Smith remained in the shadows as Cook entered the cottage. Disappointed, he turned around and faced the room.
Why was he disappointed?
Breaking his reverie, Richard’s scream assaulted his ears. “Uncle Ellis!”
He bolted out of his office down the hall toward the direction of the scream. His heart racing, blood pumping, he found the lad, perfectly well, standing in the parlor.
“Richard, what on earth is the matter?” Ellis barely held back from exploding.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? You scream like that for nothing?”
“I just called you.”
Ellis searched the boy’s eyes. He truly was puzzled over his uncle’s reaction. Was it possible that all boys yelled like that? Well, not in my house.
“I thought you were hurt, Son. Sit down, please.”
Richard sat on the tall, straight-back sofa. “If you need me, come find me. Don’t yell.”
Holding back tears, Richard nodded his head.
Ellis calmed himself down and sat beside the boy, wrapping his arm around him. “What was it you called me for?”
Richard pointed to the stereoscope on the table.
Seeing the object, Ellis said, “Would you like to look at some pictures?” Against his arm, he felt Richard trembling with fear. Ellis scooped the boy up and placed him on his lap. “I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Richard wound his soft-skinned arms up around his uncle’s neck. His blond curls buried deep into Ellis’s chest. Overcome with compassion, Ellis kissed the top of Richard’s head and held him tight.
