To Love and Cherish (17 page)

Yet Lawrence and his horse would likely be here tomorrow or the next day. She poked the prongs of her fork into the potatoes and pushed them around the plate. “I was wondering if there might be some work for my brother when he arrives. He's excellent with horses—in fact, he's bringing his own horse with him.” She forced a bright smile as she glanced back and forth between Harland and Garrison. She hoped her concern wasn't evident. “He'd truly be a big help with the horses, especially once the guests arrive and bring some of their animals.”

Mr. O'Sullivan shoved a bite of stewed tomatoes into his mouth as he looked at her. “Well, the guests won't be here until January, but with all this damage, I'm thinkin' we could put him to work. All the sheds and barns need repair, and I'm thinkin' Emma wouldn't mind if he'd take over some of the milkin'. He any good with a saw and hammer?”

Melinda swallowed hard. She didn't have any idea if her brother had ever pounded a nail or sawed a board in his life, but he must have performed some of those tasks while he'd been sailing around the world these past four years. Didn't sailors have to make repairs that required the use of tools? Surely Lawrence had done some of that kind of work.

She met Mr. O'Sullivan's steady gaze. “I think he could prove a good help to you.” She hoped her comment was strong enough to gain Lawrence a job, yet not so boastful that Mr. O'Sullivan would be angry with her if he proved inept. Perhaps she should add a little more. “He had been sailing for the past few years and then worked as a jockey and horse trainer for a gentleman in Cleveland before deciding to accompany me.”

Mr. O'Sullivan's bushy eyebrows lifted on his forehead. “A jockey, ya say? I s'pose we can give him a try, but if he can't earn his keep, then it's back to the racetrack with 'im.”

“That's only fair.” Melinda forced a smile. She'd need to have a long talk with Lawrence once he arrived.

She looked across the table and was met by Evan's worried expression. Since leaving Cleveland, nothing had gone as she'd expected. She prayed nothing else would go wrong!

Melinda and Emma had barely settled at the table, both of them eager to join the men for the noonday meal, when a barge horn blasted a signal for help. The five of them jumped up from their chairs in unison. Garrison frowned as he yanked his hat from a peg by the door, Harland only a few steps behind him.

“Come along, Evan. No tellin' what trouble there may be down at the dock. Must be someone in trouble, for sure.”

“We'll come along with ya,” Emma said, gathering a basket from the other room. “I'll take along my medicine and bandages in case someone needs some mendin'.”

Melinda gasped. “You think there's been some sort of accident?”

“Can't never tell,” Emma said. “Grab your bonnet and come along.” The men were already out of sight by the time Emma and Melinda hurried down the front porch steps. They hadn't gone far when the older woman's chest began to heave as she puffed for air. “We're gonna have to slow a bit or it's me that will be needin' the medical care.” She panted out the words and gestured to Melinda to slow down.

Melinda glanced in the direction of the dock. What if someone was in need of immediate help? “I could take the basket and go ahead, if you'd like.”

Emma shook her head. “Garrison will send Evan on the run if they need something before we get there. I'm thinking Dr. Faraday should have heard the signal, but there's no way to be sure.”

They weren't far from the dock when the barge sounded another blast. Moments later Garrison, Evan, and Harland appeared in the distance with Lawrence, his horse following behind.

Emma came to an abrupt halt, and Melinda nearly toppled into her. “So was all that horn blowin' just to announce a visitor?”

Melinda skirted around Emma and hurried forward. “Lawrence! Those blasts from the barge horn nearly frightened us to death.” She hoped her brother's actions hadn't gotten things off to a bad start. Her brother had said he'd follow her to the island, but she had expected him yesterday. Either he'd decided he was enjoying Biscayne, or he hadn't been able to secure passage on a barge before now. Emma certainly appeared disgruntled by the interruption, but she wasn't sure about the men.

“Don't blame me, Melinda. It wasn't my idea. When I told the captain I didn't know which direction I should go to locate you, he blasted the horn.” He shot her a mischievous grin and gestured toward the men. “And look—it worked. In fact, it appears that half the island's inhabitants have come to greet me.”

Emma frowned at him. “We're far from half of what lives here, but we're the ones you managed to yank away from the dinner table.” All the hurrying had caused her cheeks to turn the shade of fresh-picked cherries. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and swiped it across her face. “I'm guessin' you'd be Melinda's brother.”

He grinned at Emma. “Only on the days when I don't embarrass her.” He nudged Melinda's arm. “And those are few and far between, aren't they?”

“You can behave properly when you've a mind to, and I suggest that this is as good a time as any to begin.”

Garrison had stepped near the horse and was stroking the animal's body. “You say you won this animal in a game of cards, do ya?”

Lawrence turned toward the older man. “That's right. A beauty, isn't he?”

“Aye, that he is—and not a beauty that I'd think a man would be willin' to gamble away.” His bushy eyebrows settled low on his heavy brow.

“I'm sure you're not accusing me of stealing the animal, sir.”

Melinda flinched at her brother's remark, but Lawrence didn't appear to notice. He turned and met the older man's hard stare. Her brother hadn't been on the island more than ten minutes and already she sensed trouble brewing.

Emma shifted the basket to her left arm. “Come along, Garrison. It's not like the lad or his horse are stepping off into the river. You can talk to him and look at the animal back at the house. Dinner is getting cold.”

The men fell into line without a word. In some matters, Garrison might be in charge, but there was no denying that when it came to preparing and serving the meals, Emma was in command. Once they'd returned, the men sat around the table and properly introduced themselves while Emma and Melinda reheated the food.

Garrison pointed his thumb toward the front of the house, where Lawrence had tied his horse. “So tell me again 'bout how you won that horse, 'cause I'm thinkin' I may need to take up playin' cards if a man can become the owner of a beauty like that one.”

Evan chuckled. “Well, I think you'd have to spend a lot of time honing your gaming skills before you'd want to make such a large wager.” He settled in his chair while Lawrence explained.

“The game started early in the day and went well into the night,” Lawrence began. “There were a full half dozen men who started, but one by one the game grew too rich for their blood. By the time the clock struck midnight, it was down to just two of us. Unfortunately for the owner, he'd had too much to drink and possessed too little skill at cards.” Lawrence crossed his arms over his chest. “I gave him an opportunity to change his mind, but he was determined.”

“Aye, liquor can mess with a man's thinkin', and that's a fact.” Garrison narrowed his eyes a bit. “So you gave him a chance to back out, ya say?”

Lawrence nodded. “I told him he'd be sorry come morning, but he believed he had a winning hand. Didn't think he could lose.”

“I'm surprised he signed the bill of sale once he'd lost, especially if he'd been drinkin'. Many's the time a drinkin' man will fight rather than pay up, especially when there are no witnesses.”

“And how would you be knowin' that, Garrison O'Sullivan?” Lips pressed together, Emma perched a fist on one hip and stared at her husband.

“Now, Emma, you know I found meself in such places before the Lord grabbed me by the scruff of the neck.”

Harland chuckled. “And the good Lord had plenty of help from Emma, too.”

“Aye, that He did,” Garrison replied while dipping his fork into the fried potatoes Emma had scooped onto his plate. He swallowed the mouthful of food and then pointed his fork at Lawrence. “So you have a legal bill of sale for that horse?”

Lawrence frowned, obviously annoyed by the continued line of questioning. “Yes, I do. Would it make you feel better to see it?”

Garrison shook his head. “If yar sayin' it's true, then I believe ya. Just don't want no stolen horses on this island. What's the animal's name?”

Lawrence hesitated. “Priceless Journey.”

The older man nodded. “Well, he's a priceless animal, and that's a fact.”

Melinda watched the exchange between Mr. O'Sullivan and her brother. She'd been living away from her brother for the past four years, and much about Lawrence had changed. The look in his eyes was sincere enough to make her believe, yet there was something in his tone that didn't sound quite right. He'd mentioned that horse's name during their travels, and she was sure it wasn't Priceless Journey
.
What was he hiding?

After supper she called Lawrence aside. “You appeared to be concealing something when you spoke to Mr. O'Sullivan about that horse. And I thought you gave me a different name for the horse—something about black and running or some such thing, but I'm sure it wasn't Priceless Journey
.
”

Her brother chuckled. “You worry far too much, Melinda. No matter what the name, that horse belongs to me, and I have a bill of sale as proof. There's no need for concern. In fact, I've heard tell that worry causes women's faces to wrinkle at an early age, and I wouldn't want that happening to my sister.” He nodded toward the front door. “I think I'll go and take Priceless Journey to the barn.”

She stared after Lawrence as he walked out of the house. In spite of her brother's assurances, he'd been unable to still her fears.

As December arrived, Melinda continued to marvel at her brother's ability to settle into this new life. Although Lawrence avoided as much heavy work as possible, he managed to remain in good stead with Mr. O'Sullivan. Lawrence said it was because the older man appreciated his ability with horses and wanted him around when the season opened. Evan thought it had more to do with her brother's ability to pull the wool over Mr. O'Sullivan's eyes.

Melinda decided it was probably a combination of both. Lawrence had proved his capability to work with horses, both as a rider and a trainer, though he wasn't much help when it came to mucking the barn or performing any other distasteful or tedious work. Most of the time, he offered the promise of riding a horse to charm one of the newly hired younger fellows into completing his mundane chores for him.

In considering the events since her brother's arrival, Melinda judged that Lawrence had adapted more quickly than she had. For her, much of this new life had required a great deal of adjustment. Though she'd been living in the maids' quarters at the clubhouse for more than a month now, she still hadn't gotten used to the distance her new living arrangement had created between Evan and her. Lawrence was living in the hunting lodge with Evan and Harland, which suited him just fine.

Melinda hadn't wanted to move from the O'Sullivan home, although she realized the time had come. When other cleaning women had been hired to help at the clubhouse, Mr. O'Sullivan made it clear he missed his privacy. He'd assured his wife that Melinda would now be safe at the clubhouse. Emma knew her husband had already extended his hospitality beyond normal limits, and she explained she couldn't press for more. She assured Melinda that Garrison was right. Melinda would be safe now that the other women were moving in to work at the lodge. Melinda couldn't possibly explain that her misgivings had nothing to do with safety but rather with having to leave Evan's nearness. When the day for her move arrived, Melinda had hoped the older woman would change her mind, but that hadn't occurred.

The clubhouse living quarters had created a new loneliness for Melinda. Instead of spending her evenings with Evan, Harland, Lawrence, and the O'Sullivans, she now spent her free time surrounded by strangers. And try as she might to befriend the other maids, the women seemed determined to keep her at arm's length after one of them shared that she remembered Melinda was Mrs. Mifflin's lady's maid.

Even during the days, her time with Emma was limited. As her supervisor, Emma didn't want to be accused of special treatment or exhibiting a preference for Melinda. “I told you t'would not be easy,” Emma told her one day. “Our friendship will only make things more difficult for you.”

“I don't care. I'm so happy to be here—to have a purpose and be allowed to stay.”

“Well, just remember, once the cleanup and preparations are accomplished, you may well find your purpose removed.”

“Oh, but surely they will see I'm a hard worker and keep me on. Not only that, but I have your friendship, and surely you will put in a good word for me.”

Emma smiled. “Always, but for now I cannot show any favoritism.”

Melinda knew the older woman was correct, but it didn't stop her from seeking out Emma. Each morning she'd wait by the front door of the clubhouse. Before Emma could catch her breath, Melinda would shoot questions at her in rapid succession. The questions didn't change much from day to day: Did Evan send a message for her? What time did Evan return home for supper? What progress were they making? Did Evan mention her name? Did he say if he'd come over to visit on Sunday? On and on it would go until she'd eventually quiz Emma about Lawrence.

But today as Melinda waited, she promised herself not to badger Emma when she arrived. She spotted Emma approaching and bit her lip.

“Good morning, lass. Aren't you going to start your inquisition?”

“Not today.”

“Too bad.”

“Why? Did Evan send a message for me? Is he all right?”

“See? That didn't take long.” Emma laughed and pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket. “I suppose you'll be wanting this.”

Melinda's heart pounded a new beat at the sight of Evan's handwriting. She quickly read the brief message and pressed the folded page to her bodice. “Thank you, Emma!”

Emma chuckled. “No need to be thankin' me. I didn't write it. But I hope that bit of news from Evan is going to make this day a better one for ya.” She winked and continued into the clubhouse. “Now that the roof is fixed, we need to get to those rooms on the upper floor. The rugs need to be taken up and carried outdoors to clean.” Emma glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

“They're finishing breakfast. The cook overslept this morning.”

Emma's kind features wrinkled into a frown. “That cook may find herself on a launch back to Biscayne if she keeps up her sloppy habits. That's two times in the past week.” She lifted a basket from her arm. “Would ya go and fetch her for me, lass? I need to be havin' a talk with her. And tell the others to get up to the fourth floor and start taking out the rugs.”