To Love and Cherish
© 2012 by Tracie Peterson and Judith Miller
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Ebook edition created 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingâwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-7106-8
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The internet addresses, email addresses, and phone numbers in this book are accurate at the time of publication. They are provided as a resource. Baker Publishing Group does not endorse them or vouch for their content or permanence.
Cover design by John Hamilton Design
To
Lori Baney
With thanks for your friendship
and encouragement.
âJudy
Bridal Veil Island, Georgia
May 1898
Melinda Colson swallowed the lump of frustration lodged in her throat. Her knuckles scratched against the wicker picnic basket as she tucked a cloth napkin around the woven sides. The lid dropped with an unexpected clatter, and she looked up to meet Mrs. Mifflin's surprised gaze.
Her disappointment swelled, and a heavy weight settled in her stomach. “But I understood we weren't departing Bridal Veil Island for another two weeks.” Her palms turned damp as she awaited Mrs. Mifflin's response.
“That was our plan, but I've received word that my dear friend, Ida McKinley, will be arriving in Cleveland. We must return home to prepare for her visit.” Mrs. Mifflin patted her perspiring upper lip with a lace-edged handkerchief. “There's so much to accomplish before she arrives. I do wish she would have given me a bit more notice.”
Melinda's mouth gaped open, and she loosened her grip on the rigid basket handles. “The president's wife is coming to visit you?”
“Indeed she is. Ida has been asked to speak at the commencement exercises at Miss Sanford's school in Cleveland. That's where we first met and became friends. Of course, she was Ida Saxton back then.” The older woman pursed her lips and tipped her head slightly. “I'm sure I told you that when you first came to work for me.”
Perhaps Mrs. Mifflin had mentioned her connection to Mrs. McKinley, but if so, it hadn't registered at the time. After all, when Melinda first arrived at the Mifflin home, she'd been overwrought with grief. Her thoughts had been focused on her parents' untimely death aboard one of their shipping vessels rather than on Mrs. Mifflin's childhood friends.
“When is she due to arrive in Cleveland? We'll need sufficient time to close the cottage for the season.”
Cottage!
A twelve-room two-story Queen Anne home designed by an architectural firm in New York City could hardly be called a cottage, but Mrs. Mifflin enjoyed referring to it as such.
“No need to worry. I've made arrangements with Mr. Zimmerman, the resort superintendent, to have some of the maids from the clubhouse come and take care of closing our lovely Summerset.”
“There's no need to go to the expense of hiring maids. I'd be more than happy to remain and close the cottage. Besides, you'll know that everything has been properly attended to if I'm here.” Melinda hoped the older woman would heed her suggestion. She didn't want to leave Bridal Veilânot now. And if things went as she hoped, not ever.
Mrs. Mifflin frowned and shook her head. “My dear! How could I possibly get along without you? I need you to fashion my hair and take care of arrangements for the tea. As it is, we'll be hard-pressed to finish all the details on time. You know there's never before been anyone else I could depend upon as my companion.”
Melinda disliked being referred to as Mrs. Mifflin's companion, but that was the title the matron had used when she'd interviewed and hired Melinda after her parents' death. At the time, Melinda hadn't argued against the title. Back then she had been in dire need of the income. But perhaps all of that would change today.
“Besides,” Mrs. Mifflin continued, “the dues Mr. Mifflin pays to belong to the Bridal Veil Island consortium cover such needs. That was one of the reasons we agreed to join. The island offers a pleasant diversion from the harsh Cleveland winters while also paying strict attention to the necessary services we require. We've even arranged to have the cottage painted later this summer. Of course, I don't expect you to realize all of the benefits we enjoy as members.”
Mrs. Mifflin dabbed her face again and startled as the clock chimed the hour. “Goodness, but I do wish there were more time.”
Time!
When Melinda glanced at the clock, her pulse quickened. She needed to hurry. If things went as she hoped, Evan Tarlow, the Bridal Veil Island gamekeeper, might surprise her with a proposal at their picnic this afternoon.
But not if I don't get there soon.
The thought was enough to force her to action, and she tightened her hold on the basket handles. This was her afternoon off, and she needed to make good use of these few free hours. “I have a picnic planned for this afternoon, but I'll be certain to have time to pack your trunks this evening.”
Mrs. Mifflin's smile faded like a summer bloom in need of rain. “I would think you'd be willing to forgo your afternoon off, Melinda. A picnic with one of the clubhouse maids is of little importance. Especially when you consider
my
current needs.”
Melinda forced a smile. “You needn't worry.” She tried her best to understand the older woman's anxiety. “I promise I will have your needs cared for.” She patted the woman's arm. “I've never failed to have your things ready, no matter the occasion.”
Mrs. Mifflin gave a sniff as though she might begin to weep. “It's just that this is more important than anything else. I find it rather selfish of you to put your own desires first.”
Early on, Melinda had learned that Mrs. Mifflin believed everything should center on her needs. And although Melinda prayed for the matron each day, she'd not seen much change in her behavior. If Melinda's father had been able to keep his freighting business solvent and insurance on the ships paid, she wouldn't have been forced into these circumstances. With no means of support, any thoughts of marriage to a wealthy husband had disappeared when her parents died at sea. The estate attorney had been brief when he'd set Melinda and her brother, Lawrence, adrift in the uncharted seas of financial misfortune.
But perhaps the insolvency had been a blessing in disguise. During the winter months at Bridal Veil Island, a kinship had developed between Melinda and Evan. His romantic interest had been the high point of each season, and she hoped his attention would lead to a proposal of marriage. By society's standards, Evan didn't have a great deal to offer, but Melinda didn't use the monetary standard of the world to assess a suitor. She'd learned a good heart could be trusted more than money. And Evan possessed a truly good heart. Also, it didn't hurt that he was delightfully handsome.
Melinda hid her smile and lifted the basket from the table. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Mifflin, but I'm unable to change my plans. I know that you would want me to be a woman of my word, just as the pastor encouraged us last Sunday. Remember, you told me to always be sure to keep my promises.” She turned and rushed toward the back door, giving a wave over her shoulder. “I won't be long.”
“I find your behavior unacceptable, Melinda.” When she continued down the steps, Mrs. Mifflin called after her. “Don't be even one minute late or you'll see a decrease in your wages!”
Melinda hurried down the walk. If Evan proposed, she would no longer need to worry about Mrs. Mifflin or the possibility of having her wages decreased.
Her spirits soared as she neared the secluded grassy spot that provided a perfect view of the Argosy River. Two years ago she and Evan had declared this spot their special piece of Bridal Veil. Not that they could actually claim anything on Bridal Veil, for it all belonged to the investors who had purchased the land, but this place afforded them moments of privacy that Melinda found so vital to her own well-being.
A breeze blew the honey-blond curls surrounding her oval face, and she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as the sun beat down with more intensity than she'd expected. How she disliked her fair complexion that splotched bright pink with only a bit of sunshine. She should have worn her straw-brimmed hat.
“Over here, Melinda!” Evan appeared from behind one of the low-hanging branches of a live oak and waved her forward, his broad smile enhancing his already good looks.
Her throat caught at the sight of him. His broad shoulders and sturdy appearance caused her heart to quicken, yet it was the kind, gentle spirit beneath Evan's ruggedness that had won her heart. He loved this island and he'd taught her to love it, as well. Just like Evan, she'd learned to appreciate the beauty in every inch of this place he called home. Now she prayed it would become her home, too.
“I brought a blanket for us to sit on.” He pointed toward the ground beneath the tree.
She smiled as their eyes locked, and Evan's look embraced her with warmth that pulsed through her body. She wanted to blurt out the fact that she was expected to depart in the morning, but she decided to wait for the right moment to tell him. There would be no perfect time to deliver such news, but she didn't want to greet him with Mrs. Mifflin's edict.
“I hope you're hungry.” After the two of them sat down on the blanket, she lifted the napkin from atop the basket. “I have your favoriteâfried chicken.”
He rubbed his palm on his stomach and immediately helped himself to a drumstick. “Umm, this is delicious. I hope you're not too hungry. I think I could eat every piece myself.”
Melinda moved the basket closer to him. “You're in luck. My stomach couldn't hold a thing at the moment.”
“I hope it's not because you're ill. Harland said we could take a couple of the horses riding this afternoon.” His brows furrowed and he hesitated a moment. “If you feel up to it.”
Evan's boss, Harland Fields, was charged with supervising the group of men employed as gamekeepers, groundskeepers, and landscapers. In addition, the older man was expected to oversee all of the grounds improvement projects on Bridal Veil.
“I'd love to go riding on the beach.” Although they both loved the river view from the clubhouse side of the island, Melinda particularly took pleasure in riding along the ocean on the east side. Frequently she and Evan would walk the two miles to the other side to look for shells and listen to the water lap against the shoreline. Other times, when the horses weren't being used by guests, Harland would let them take the animals out for exercise. At least that's what he called it when nosy guests inquired about the hired help enjoying a ride along the shore.
Evan wrapped up the remaining two pieces of chicken and tucked them back into the basket before grabbing an apple and shining it on the front of his shirt. “I saw a couple of loggerhead turtle nests near the end of the island. Would you like to ride down there and have a look?”
“Yes, that would be wonderful.” She tried to sound excited, but her response fell flat.
The apple crunched as Evan bit into it, and a dribble of juice trickled down his chin. Using a corner of her napkin, Melinda wiped the moisture from his face. Her heart fluttered as he covered her hand with his and held it close to his chest. “Something's wrong, Melinda. I can tell. Either you're sick or I've done something to make you unhappy. Which is it?”
No longer able to continue the masquerade, Melinda wilted. “Just before I left the cottage, Mrs. Mifflin announced that we're departing for Cleveland in the morning.”
A frown creased Evan's forehead. “But you're not due to leave for two more weeks.”
“I know.” Melinda detailed what little she'd learned about Mrs. McKinley's approaching visit. “I asked to remain behind and help close the cottage, but Mrs. Mifflin wouldn't hear of it. She says I'm the only one who can properly style her hair and make arrangements for the visit.” Melinda sighed. “From the way she talks, you'd think she's expecting me to remain in her employ for the rest of my life.” She hoped her last comment would nudge Evan to act. Otherwise, come tomorrow morning, she'd be crossing the Argosy River to the mainland and catching a train back to Cleveland.
“Mr. Mifflin hasn't said anything about canceling the hunt he's planned for tomorrow. Maybe she's confused.” While Evan folded the blanket, Melinda arranged the remaining items in the basket. He grabbed the handle and tucked the blanket beneath one arm. She could see he was doing his best to sort fact from possible fiction. “I'm guessing that Mrs. Mifflin has spoken out of turn. I don't think there's any reason for concern.”
“Believe me, Evan, there is every reason for concern. I know Dorothea Mifflin, and you can be sure I will be on a train back to Cleveland tomorrow. Unless something or someone stops me.”
“Evan!” Harland approached them sitting astride a trotting chestnut mare. With a deft hand, he pulled back on the reins and the horse fell in step alongside them. “Mr. Mifflin canceled the hunt he had scheduled for tomorrow.” He tipped his hat to Melinda. “I'm surprised Mrs. Mifflin let you have your afternoon off.” The older man smiled down at her before turning his attention back toward Evan. “You need not reschedule Mr. Mifflin's hunt. He tells me they'll be leaving the island tomorrow. 'Course, I'm thinking Melinda already gave you that piece of news.” He settled back in the saddle. “You two still planning to go riding?”
“Sure are,” Evan said. “I'm going to leave this picnic basket and blanket inside the stable while we're gone.”
Harland nodded and leaned around the horse's head. He gave the mare a pat on the neck. “One of you can take Anna Belle. The old girl's ready for a good run.” He removed his foot from the stirrup and swung down from the horse. “You two make the most of your time together. It's going to be a long time afore you see each other again.”
Melinda's skirt caught between her legs as she whirled around to face Evan. “Maybe not. We haven't had a chance to fully discuss what we might do.”
The older man arched his bushy eyebrows. “I'm not seeing there are many choices for the two of you. Once the Mifflins have made a decision, I don't think they'll be changing their minds.”
Biting back her thought that there was at least one option available, she permitted Harland to help her astride Anna Belle while Evan went into the stable for his horse. Not until they were alone would she broach the topic of remaining at Bridal Veil. She would need to be delicate in her comments. Although Evan had spoken of his love for her, he'd made no mention of marriage. But marriage followed a declaration of love, didn't it? Surely he had already considered a future with her and would see this as the proper time to propose. After all, she could hardly propose to him.