To Love and Cherish (16 page)

With long, purposeful strides, he approached Mr. Nordegren. “If you have a minute, I have something I want to discuss with you.” Evan turned his gaze back to the workers. “I hope you find the plantings to your liking. We plan to have them completed by suppertime.”

Mr. Nordegren nodded his head. “They look very good, but you must make sure they are watered, or they will be dead before the end of the month.”

These men understood the necessity of watering freshly planted flowers and trees without a reminder from Evan or from Mr. Nordegren, but Evan voiced his agreement. “I have a friend—a young lady who has worked here on Bridal Veil for the Mifflin family—and she is in need of a place to stay during her visit. I was wondering if she might take a room in the maids' quarters here at the clubhouse.”

Mr. Nordegren stroked his whiskers. “I'm not sure if that's suitable.” He continued to stare into the distance with unblinking dark eyes. “Is she looking for work? We're going to be hiring women to begin cleaning rooms within the next week. Emma O'Sullivan is going to assume her former position as head housekeeper. She might be willing to hire her. In that event, she could be housed in the maids' quarters with the other women Emma hires.” He scratched his chin. “Until then, you'll likely need to make other arrangements. Perhaps over in Biscayne?”

Evan didn't know what surprised him more. The fact that Emma had agreed to return to her duties as head housekeeper or that Mr. Nordegren thought Melinda should be housed in Biscayne until she hired on as a housekeeper. And what would Melinda think of the news? After traveling such a distance in such difficult circumstances, she would be more than a little displeased. He must come up with some other plan.

The minute they had finished their work at the clubhouse, Evan hurried back to the hunting lodge, cleaned up, and returned to the O'Sullivan cottage, where he discovered the question of Melinda's accommodations had been settled by Emma. The older woman had been clear: Melinda would stay with them. Evan was surprised by the news—especially since their space was limited and Garrison wasn't known to be fond of company. But Garrison had nodded his silent agreement, and Evan didn't argue. He felt as though the couple had lifted part of the weight from his shoulders. Not that he believed Melinda a burden, but he'd been totally unprepared to have her suddenly appear.

“If there's a bit of time before supper, I'd like to visit with Melinda.” Evan glanced at the stove, where Emma was busy frying potatoes. “But I don't want to hold things up. If it's better for us to wait until—”

Emma interrupted before he could finish the sentence. “Go on, the both of ya.” She winked at Evan. “I'm thinkin' ya got a lot to say to this lass.”

Evan could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. Emma could embarrass the hide off a horse if she set her mind to it. He held the door open for Melinda and followed her onto the porch. “Why don't we sit over here.” He guided her to two chairs that were a short distance away.

His stomach clenched and he wasn't sure if it was from hunger or nerves, but he suspected it was the latter. He didn't even know how to begin this conversation. Should he just blurt out his questions? He was delighted to see Melinda, and he didn't want to appear ungrateful that she'd journeyed all this distance, yet her unexpected arrival perplexed him. Why hadn't she waited to receive word from him before embarking on such a dangerous trip?

While he attempted to come up with a way to begin their conversation, she sat down in one of the chairs and turned toward him. “I know you're surprised to see me, but when I heard about all the devastation down here, I had to come and make certain you weren't injured.” She lifted a stray curl from the side of her face and tucked it behind her ear. “And you cannot imagine how frightened I was when I learned that someone on Bridal Veil had died in the hurricane.” She clasped a hand to her chest. “My heart nearly burst with fear that it was you—especially when I heard it was a young man who lived on Bridal Veil year-round.” She reached for his hand. “I was so afraid that I would arrive and find you . . .” Touching her fingers to her mouth, she shook her head. “I cannot even say the word.”

The sight of Alfred's raincoat lying on the dock flashed through Evan's mind, a fresh reminder of the boy and his death. Evan's mood turned somber as he met Melinda's gaze. “I wrote to you as soon as I could, but mail service wasn't going through for a number of days. If you had waited a few more days, my letter probably would have arrived.”

Her head snapped back as if he'd slapped her. “Are you saying you wish I hadn't come?”

He hadn't meant to hurt her, but there was no denying his words had caused pain. “I am very pleased to see you, Melinda. You know I love you, but—”

“But what? Do you wish I would have remained in Cleveland?”

Confusion and anger replaced the pain he'd observed only moments earlier. This wasn't turning out at all as he'd hoped. “No, that's not what I said. I'm worried about you being here in these horrible conditions. There's so much work that must be completed before the season opens, and I'll have little time for visiting with you.”

“
Visiting?
” Her mouth gaped open and she stared at him as though he'd grown another head.

What had he done? The offense in her tone was enough to alert him he hadn't said what she'd wanted to hear, but truth was truth. He didn't have time for company right now.

“I'm not here to visit, Evan. I'm here to spend the rest of my life. I quit my job with the Mifflins. I'm here, my possessions are here, and I have nowhere else to go.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she covered her face with her hands.

He pulled his chair closer. “Please, Melinda. Don't cry. We can work this out.” He forced a smile. “There's no problem so big that we can't find a solution. If you don't want to return north, I'm certain there are positions for ladies' maids in Savannah and maybe even Biscayne—that would be even better. If you located a position in Biscayne, we could see each other more often.”

She lifted her tear-streaked face. “Evan Tarlow, what is wrong with you? Haven't you heard a word I've said?”

He bobbed his head to affirm that he had, in fact, heard every word she'd said. Why was she getting upset again? Hadn't he said they'd find a solution? Hadn't he offered some viable options for her? He leaned back in the chair and raked his fingers through his thick brown hair.

“It seems everything I say is wrong. Maybe you'd better begin at the beginning, and I'll remain silent until you finish.”

Melinda leaned forward. “Perhaps that is the best idea. But you need to listen carefully so you'll understand that those solutions you've suggested aren't helpful.”

He wished she hadn't said that—now he was going to be thinking about why his ideas wouldn't work once she began her explanation. His thoughts were already drifting in that direction when she tapped him on the hand and brought him back to the present. He folded his hands together and focused on the somewhat involved tale of Melinda's departure, her lack of a reference letter, the trials of the long train ride, the wait in Savannah, the voyage on the freighter, and the difficulties with her brother and his horse.

His words must be chosen with care. Melinda needed his reassurance that everything would be fine. His fingers tingled as he unclasped his hands. He'd clenched them with such intensity that the blood supply to his fingers had been diminished. “I spoke with Mr. Nordegren over at the clubhouse earlier today and asked if you could use one of the rooms in the maids' quarters. I didn't realize Emma had agreed you could stay here,” he quickly added.

She nodded her head. Feeling somewhat encouraged, he continued. “I didn't know you were planning to remain on the island indefinitely, but Mr. Nordegren said there would soon be positions open for help preparing the rooms for the season.”

“Go on.” Her shoulders stiffened, a sure sign something he said hadn't settled well with her.

“I know the work is far beneath your abilities, but he said Emma will be in charge, and I know you enjoy her company. The job would at least provide a small income, lodging, and meals.” He leaned forward. “Does that sound like something you'd be willing to do until we have time to come up with a more suitable position?” Her brow furrowed, and he knew he'd not said what she wanted to hear.

“I'm going to come right out with this, Evan. The position I was hoping you'd offer is that of your wife.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I know that's very forward of me and not at all proper etiquette, but you professed your love this summer, and I was clear when I departed that I had hoped you would ask me to stay. Now that I'm here, it seems you still don't think marriage is a suitable solution to this dilemma.”

Had he been in an upright position and tapped with a feather, Evan would have fallen to the ground. “Marriage?” He'd felt this same woozy feeling when he'd been sick several years ago. He rubbed his hand across his forehead and forced himself to remain calm. He loved Melinda, but he wasn't prepared for marriage—not now.

He grasped her hands, once again surprised by the silky feel of them between his callused fingers. “I want you to listen to me very carefully—with the same clarity you asked of me while you explained your journey.”

“I will.” He heard the expectation in her voice.

“Marriage is something I desire with all of my heart, but not now.” He flinched when she withdrew her hands and folded them in her lap. “Before you become angry or hurt, let me tell you why.”

Her shoulders remained stiff and unyielding while he told her of the commitment he'd made years ago: He would never marry until he could support a wife and children in a suitable manner. Though he didn't like discussing his past, he knew Melinda deserved a deeper explanation. “I watched my own parents on our farm, Melinda. My mother worked herself to an early grave, and still there wasn't enough money to go around. My father was determined to keep the farm so that my brother, James, would receive a proper inheritance. He didn't seem to care that he was killing his wife in the process. But even at a young age, I could see what was happening, how my mother was losing trust and hope, how the hard work and lack of rest stole her life. I vowed that would never happen to a wife of mine.” He looked into her eyes. “And I meant it.”

He glanced toward the window. The smell of frying potatoes and roasted meat drifted from inside the cottage, and his stomach rumbled. “My job as Harland's assistant couldn't possibly support us.”

The look of utter disbelief returned to her eyes as she continued to press the fabric of her tan-and-brown-checked skirt with one palm. “I understand about your mother and father, but that isn't us. And if I worked at the clubhouse, wouldn't that be enough?”

“No, but even if it were, that isn't what I want for us. I know you may not understand, Melinda, but I'm not willing to have your wages help support us.” He fastened his gaze on the horizon. “I made a commitment that I can't break. If I do, I'll consider myself a failure, and that isn't what you want for a husband.”

“But what about your commitment to me? You said you love me. Does that not include marriage?” Another tear trickled down her cheek and plopped onto her skirt.

“Of course it includes marriage.” He went on to explain Harland's decision to resign from his position. “Harland has recommended me to succeed him, but he doesn't have the final say.”

“Who does and when will they decide?” Her face brightened and she scooted to the edge of her chair.

“First Mr. Nordegren has to speak to Mr. Zimmerman. Then Mr. Zimmerman has to speak to Mr. Morley, and if he approves of the suggestion, he'll go to the primary investors for a vote.”

Her smile faded. “That could take a long time.”

He nodded. “Mr. Nordegren said it might be the middle or the end of the season before they reach a decision. My best guess is the end of the season.”

“But why? Why couldn't they simply take care of it before the season begins?”

Evan couldn't speak with authority about why things happened the way they did, but she expected some sort of answer—he could tell from the impatient tone of her voice. “Since there's been a hurricane, and we have all this damage to take care of, they'll want the most experienced people on hand to make certain the season opens on time, and the guests' expectations are met without interruption. Harland is far more experienced than I am, and they'll look to him for answers should any unforeseen problems arise.” Evan shrugged his shoulders. “That's the only answer I can give you, Melinda. I really don't know how the investors make their decisions any more than you do.”

Her lip quivered and she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. “I'm sorry to be such a crybaby, but this isn't how I pictured our reunion. I had such dreams—such high hopes.”

Using his index finger, he tipped her chin upward and looked into her eyes. “You needn't forget either one. I love you, Melinda, and one day we will be married. I promise. I'm only asking that you wait until I can be the husband I need to be and the husband you deserve.” He squeezed her hand. “One day I want a houseful of children, and I don't ever want you to worry about how you'll feed them or if there will be enough money to buy a new dress.” He hoped his words would encourage her.

“Those things aren't what make a good marriage, Evan. It's love that makes a strong union between a husband and wife.”

“I agree. Both love and trust are very important, but worries over money can cause lots of bickering and destroy both love and trust. I saw that with my parents, and I don't want that to happen to us. It's better to be prepared before we say our vows. You need to trust me in this.”

Emma clanged a metal spoon against one of her iron skillets and called from inside. “You two best be getting yarselves in here, or Harland and Garrison are gonna eat yar share of the food.”

Evan pushed up from the chair. “We can talk more later. Better not keep Emma waiting.” He hesitated a minute, hoping for a response, but Melinda simply nodded.

Melinda wasn't sure what she should think. Evan had declared his love several times during their conversation, but the outcome hadn't been what she'd hoped for—what she'd planned for. And what about Lawrence? Though she'd mentioned he'd come with her, she hadn't actually inquired about a job for him. Would Garrison or Harland be willing to hire him? Given her brother's dislike of physical labor, she wondered if she should even suggest such a thing.