by Mary Davis
Olivia stared at the dress that had not given Mother a happy ending to her marriage.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it? You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want to wear it.”
“It’s not that. You wore this dress, and look what happened.”
“Nonsense. The dress had nothing to do with how things turned out. It was strength of character your father lacked.”
Did Troy have strength of character?
“Yes,” Mother said, reading her mind. “Troy’s character is strong enough to withstand anything in your future.”
“How can you be sure?”
Gran spoke up. “Even though your father was my own flesh and blood, Eugene was weak-willed. It was your mother who made him strong. She held him up. I tried to warn her off him, but she wouldn’t listen. Troy holds himself up. He will do right by you.”
Olivia remembered subtle comments between Mother, Father, and Gran over the years. Now they made sense.
“Would you like to try the dress on?” Mother’s expression held anticipation.
“I’ll be right back out.” Olivia went to her room and laid the dress out on her bed.
Mother was right. The dress held no power over the future. She tried the dress on and went back out to the parlor.
“What do you think?” Olivia turned around in place.
Mother sucked in a breath. “You look beautiful.”
Olivia felt beautiful in it and hoped Troy would like it.
Gran clapped her hands. “Let’s get busy turning it into your wedding dress. We have a lot to do before tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Olivia would be Mrs. Troy Morrison. That both thrilled and terrified her. Her future would be set with him until death did they part. For better or worse.
Or until Troy left her as Father had done to Mother.
Chapter 13
Troy sat behind his desk on Thursday afternoon. Though he shuffled papers around, no work was actually getting accomplished. His thoughts were on this evening. His wedding to Liv. Had she figured some way to put off the wedding? Cancel it altogether? Or would Violet do something to spoil things?
With his door ajar only a few inches, he could see the bank’s large interior clock. Still too much time for his nerves. He wished it was closing time. Once he was at the Bradshaws’ and knew the wedding would still happen, he would be more at ease. He’d had a difficult time sleeping the past two nights because of his excitement about marrying Liv.
Finally, after all these years, she would be his.
He startled when his office door pushed open.
Jack didn’t stay in the doorway as he usually did but strode up to the desk. He cocked his thumb to point behind him. “A man’s here to see Mr. Jones. But Mr. Jones is out. Don’t know when he’ll be back. What should I tell him?”
“What man?” Surely, Friday Harbor wasn’t so big that Jack wouldn’t know who the gentleman was.
Jack’s shoulders rose toward his ears. “Some fancy gent.”
“Show him in here.” Troy stood and straightened his jacket.
Jack darted out and returned a moment later. “Right in here, sir.”
A man in his midthirties dressed in an expensive gray suit stepped in, carrying a suitcase and satchel in one hand, his hat in the other.
Troy moved out from behind his desk and proffered his hand. “I’m Troy Morrison, assistant to the manager.”
The man shifted his hat to the same hand with his satchel and shook Troy’s hand. “Ulysses Perrault, Esquire.”
An attorney. “Please have a seat. Mr. Jones is out at the moment. May I be of some assistance?”
Mr. Perrault set his suitcase and satchel down and took the chair. “I would appreciate it if you could. I’ve been from one end of this…remote island to the other and now back again. Travel would be much easier and faster if you had a train running from end to end.”
Troy sensed the man had wanted to use a description like backwoods or middle of nowhere. Not everyone appreciated the lush forests of the islands. “How may I help you?”
“I’m seeking a woman.”
“Sir, women are in short supply this far west. You won’t find one around here that two or three men don’t have their eye on.”
Mr. Perrault smiled at Troy’s teasing. “Then good thing I’m not after a wife.”
Troy was pleased at his success in relaxing the uptight man. “So who is it you need to find? I know most everyone in town.”
“I had thought to seek out an attorney’s office but saw the bank first. I figured if you couldn’t help and there was no attorney, I could inquire at the church. Hopefully you will have the information I require, and I won’t have to remain on this wild island any longer than necessary to complete my business.”
Wild island. Troy liked the sound of that. “Our local attorney is away at the moment. I’d be glad to help. If you will give me a name, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Caroline Tisdale.”
Troy searched his memory. The name wasn’t familiar at all. “I don’t recognize that name. Let me look in our records.” Most people in Friday Harbor had an account, and this one could be before his time here. He pulled a ledger off the shelf behind him and flipped through the pages. He pulled another record book from the shelf. Then he searched the file cabinet. No one with the last name Tisdale. “I’ll be right back.” He went through the files and ledgers in Mr. Jones’s office. He returned. “I can’t find any record of any person or persons with the surname Tisdale.”
Mr. Perrault put on a pair of reading glasses, unbuckled his satchel and pulled out a sheaf of papers. He shuffled through them and ran his finger down one of the pages. “Do you know a Eugene Bradshaw?”
Liv’s father? “Mr. Bradshaw passed away two years ago.”
Mr. Perrault’s face brightened. “Then he did live here?”
“Yes.”
“Married?”
“Yes. He’s survived by his mother, wife and daughter.”
Mr. Perrault expelled a long breath. “Then I am in the right town. His wife’s name is Caroline?”
Of course. Troy hadn’t made the connection. “Mrs. Bradshaw’s first name is Caroline.”
“And her maiden name was Tisdale. If you could give me directions to her residence, I would be most obliged.”
Troy wasn’t comfortable sending a stranger to the Bradshaws’ without knowing more. Just because this man said he was an attorney didn’t make it so. “As the Bradshaws’ banker, may I inquire as to the nature of your business with Mrs. Bradshaw?”
“You would find out soon enough. I am here to deliver Mrs. Bradshaw’s inheritance.”
The air froze in Troy’s lungs. “Inheritance? As in money?”
“Yes. I have a bank draft with me, as well as a few smaller items. I’m sure she will want the money deposited in your bank straightaway. Unless there is another bank in town.”
“This is the only one. Is it a large sum of money?”
“I shouldn’t disclose the amount until after I have spoken with Miss Tis—Mrs. Bradshaw.”
Of course not. But this could alter his future. “Is it enough for her to live on for some years to come?”
Mr. Perrault smiled. “In a town like this? Very comfortably. Could you write out those directions for me?”
Money meant Liv wouldn’t need to marry him today. Or ever.
Troy stood. “It’s getting late in the day. I’m sure you’re weary from traveling all this way, as well as across our island and back. Why don’t I help you get settled in at the hotel?” He picked up the man’s suitcase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You can have a hearty supper and get a good night’s sleep. Then I will personally escort you over to the Bradshaws’ first thing in the morning.” After Troy had married Liv.
“That sounds marvelous. I wouldn’t be able to conclude all Mrs. Bradshaw’s business before the bank closed anyway. So I might as well start fresh in the morning.”
By the
time Troy returned from getting Mr. Perrault registered at the hotel, Mr. Jones had come back and met him at his office door. “I hear there was a man here to see me.”
“I was able to help him.” Or at least defer him.
Mr. Jones nodded. “Very good. I always feel safe, leaving the bank in your charge. Before long, you’ll be moving up to manager, and I can return to civilization. I hear you are to be married this evening.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Congratulations.” Mr. Jones shook Troy’s hand. “Why don’t you leave? I’ll close up the bank tonight. And take tomorrow off.”
“Thank you, sir.” He hustled to straighten his desk and hurried out before Mr. Jones could change his mind or something could come up to delay Troy. Like Hewitt or Violet.
In his boardinghouse room, he had his meager possessions packed. He would take a suitcase with him tonight. Nick and George were going to help him move the rest of his belongings tomorrow.
He changed into his best suit. By the time he donned his coat, his stomach cramped so badly he had to sit down. The bed creaked under his weight.
What was wrong? He hoped he wasn’t coming down with something. Not on his wedding day. Ill or not, he would go. He would marry Liv. He glanced over at the stack of six decorated boxes in the corner. He’d won her lunch box each year. And now he would have them for the rest of his life. If he could get to her house this evening.
Sweat gathered on his forehead and upper lip. His whole body shook and burst with heat. He jerked off his coat and loosened his tie.
He poured water from the carafe on the bedside table into the glass and took a sip. Then a larger drink. Feeling better, he shuffled to the washstand and splashed cool water on his face. Once. Twice. Three times. He stared at his pallid reflection.
Liv wouldn’t want to marry him looking like this.
Then again, Liv hadn’t been eager to marry him at all.
And now Liv didn’t need to marry him. But she didn’t know that.
But he knew.
And God knew.
He took a deep breath. He realized what he had to do. It was time to set the sparrow free. His stomach loosened, and he straightened. He changed back into his work suit and strode to the hotel. Hesitating at Mr. Perrault’s door, he hoped the man wasn’t there and knocked.
Footsteps thudded across the floor, and the door opened. Mr. Perrault stood in shirtsleeves and no tie. “Mr. Morrison, I wasn’t expecting to see you until the morning.”
Likewise, Troy had hoped not to see Mr. Perrault until then either. “I would like to take you to see Mrs. Bradshaw now.”
“I understood we were going tomorrow when we could take care of all the business at once. Then she could deposit the bank draft, as well. Was I wrong?”
“No. Not wrong at all. I just changed my mind. With this kind of news, Mrs. Bradshaw would like to have it tonight. This will make her very happy. She will rest easier knowing she will have money in the bank tomorrow.”
“Very well, then.” Mr. Perrault knotted his red tie and shrugged into his coat. He picked up his satchel and followed Troy downstairs. “There is the will to be read and papers to be signed. I do like the idea of getting some of this business taken care of tonight.”
Conversely, Troy didn’t like the idea but knew it needed to be done. He held the door for Mr. Perrault. “It’s not too far. Do you mind walking? Or would you like me to get a carriage?”
“I’m fine with walking.”
Troy strode up the street with the man who was about to change his future.
And not for the better.
Nick and George exited Troy’s boardinghouse across the street. Nick waved. “Troy!”
Troy stopped and waited for his friends. Mr. Perrault stopped, as well.
Nick gripped Troy’s shoulder. “A bit eager on your wedding day? Afraid Olivia is going to back out?”
“No, things have changed. Nick, George, this is Mr. Perrault.” He followed the introduction with a brief explanation of the man’s business on the island.
Mr. Perrault had been silent, but now he concentrated his intelligent gaze on Troy. “You’re getting married?”
“Not if what you said about Mrs. Bradshaw’s inheritance is true.”
“Ah. So her endowment will be rescuing you from an unwanted trip down the aisle?”
“Not me. My girl.”
Liv was going to be vastly relieved.
“I see,” Mr. Perrault said. “We can do this tomorrow.”
“I think tomorrow would be better,” Nick said.
George nodded his agreement.
Troy shook his head. “It has to be today. Now.”
“Think about what you’re doing,” Nick said. “What this means. What you’re throwing away.”
“I know. I know.” But he couldn’t live with himself if he did it any other way. When Liv found out that their forced marriage could have been prevented, she would hate him. And he would hate himself.
After a moment of silence, Nick said, “If you are going to go through with this, you don’t need George and me.”
“No. The two of you best forget dinner, the wedding, or any other special plans for tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
But they continued with him until they reached Liv’s house. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Nick asked again.
George cocked his thumb toward Mr. Perrault. “We could kidnap this attorney so he won’t ruin anything.”
“I assure you, boys, that won’t be necessary.” Mr. Perrault turned to Troy. “It’s up to you whether I walk up to the house today or tomorrow.”
“This is the way it needs to be. It’s the right thing.” Troy thanked Nick and George and sent them on their way.
As Mr. Perrault let Troy lead the way, he said, “I don’t know another man who would do what you are doing.”
“And what is that?”
“It sounds to me like you are giving up marrying the girl you want to marry when you don’t have to if you wait only a day. And now that you know her family will have a sizable amount of money, which you would be entitled to share in if married to the daughter, you are letting that all go.”
He didn’t care about the money. It was better when they didn’t have money. But he did regret losing Liv. “This is the right thing to do.” He knocked on the door.
Felicity answered. “What are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you for at least another hour. Go away and come back later.”
Troy put a hand on the door, stopping Felicity from closing it. “Mr. Perrault has business with Mrs. Bradshaw.”
Felicity sighed. “Wait right there.”
But before she could fully close the door, it swung open. Liv stood a step behind Felicity. “You’re early?” Though her hair appeared to be fussed with, she didn’t seem to be dressed for the occasion yet.
Liv was as beautiful as ever and looked as though she was almost pleased to see him.
He wanted to tell her it was all a mistake and take Mr. Perrault away. “A change in plans. There will be no wedding tonight.”
“There won’t?”
Troy took a deep breath. “Mr. Perrault has pressing business with your mother.”
“Oh.” Liv sounded disappointed.
But Troy knew better.
“What business?” Mrs. Bradshaw asked. “Certainly it can wait until tomorrow.”
Troy had kept his gaze on Liv and hadn’t noticed Mrs. Bradshaw wheel up with Granny Bradshaw. “This needs to be taken care of tonight so Mr. Perrault can be on his way tomorrow. May we come in?”
“Of course.”
After Troy and Mr. Perrault entered, Felicity took Liv to the side for a few moments, and then she left.
When everyone was seated in the parlor, Troy properly introduced the three ladies to the attorney. “Mr. Perrault has come all the way from Chicago. He is Mr. and Mrs. Tisdale’s attorney.”
Mrs. Bradshaw gasped.
Troy knew she would recognize the name. “It appears your relations in Chicago are no longer an option for you to live with. But moving is no longer necessary. Mr. Perrault is the estate’s attorney and has brought you good news.”
Mrs. Bradshaw gave Troy a look of sympathy. “So the sparrow has been freed.”
He nodded.
Her next look told him she wouldn’t have minded if he’d waited until tomorrow.
But that wouldn’t have been right. He stood. “This is a personal matter. I can leave.”
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Bradshaw waved a hand for him to sit down. “You’re family.”
But he wasn’t. He wanted to be. And he wanted to know if Mrs. Bradshaw truly had all the money she needed for herself, Granny Bradshaw and Liv to spend the remainder of their days in comfort. He sat back down, telling himself he was there only in an advisory capacity.
Mr. Perrault put on his glasses, removed a file folder from his satchel and opened it on his lap. “Mrs. Bradshaw, I first must confirm that you are indeed the person I’m in search of.” She nodded, and he continued. “This first document I’ll need you to sign is to confirm your identity. Please state your given name, place and date of birth.”
“Caroline Louise Tisdale. Born in Chicago, Illinois, on March 31, 1855.”
“Very good. And your parents’ names?”
“Eugene and Louise Tisdale.”
Dread in the pit of Troy’s stomach grew with each confident answer Mrs. Bradshaw gave. He kept his gaze on Liv, whose gaze remained on her mother.
“Mother’s maiden name?”
“Hillman.”
Mr. Perrault handed Mrs. Bradshaw the paper and a fountain pen. “I’ll need you to sign this as verification.” He pointed to Granny Bradshaw and to Troy. “I’ll also need the two of you to sign it as witnesses.”
Troy turned to the attorney. “Me? Shouldn’t it be Liv? I mean Miss Bradshaw?”
“She could…but you would be better, not being a family member and being a bank employee.”
Liv nodded.
Mrs. Bradshaw handed the paper to Granny. Granny signed it and handed it to Troy.
He stared at the information on the paper a moment, making Mrs. Bradshaw’s inheritance real. Did he want it to be enough to sustain them? Or a mere pittance so they would still need him? He signed.
