By the second week of January, activity had increased, and many of the Bridal Veil cottages and clubhouse suites had been filled. Each day brought new challenges and a variety of events, most of them planned or coordinated by Melinda. Mr. Zimmerman hadn't failed to point out that Melinda's position had been his idea. And when the guests continued to lavish their praise upon him for the new and resourceful activities, he accepted each compliment as if he'd personally planned every event.
At first, Mr. Zimmerman's behavior surprised Melinda, but she soon learned that the guests preferred speaking to a supervisor rather than to those individuals actually performing the tasks. She decided it mattered little, for if Mr. Zimmerman remained pleased, then her position would be secure for the rest of the season. He'd already increased her salary and had promised more in the coming weeks as well as a new apartment. To her, the additional pay was of greater importance than flattering words.
The influx of guests during the last two weeks had afforded her little time with Evan. However, she hoped to see him that afternoon. Other than when he'd returned from Savannah, Melinda had seen him only one brief time. During Evan's trip to meet with the golf course specialist, Harland had moved to his brother's home outside Savannah. Not only had the older man's return to the mainland placed more responsibility on Evan's shoulders, but the loss also left a huge void in his life. During their last visit together, Evan had spoken of nothing but Harland's departure and how much he missed the older man's guidance. She hoped that today they would have time to discuss some of their own plans for the future.
Although the investors had placed full responsibility on Evan's shoulders, they hadn't yet given him the title of supervisorâor the pay increase. At least not so far as she knew. The board members had met at the clubhouse at the end of last week, and she hoped Evan's promotion had been a part of their agenda. Surely they could see that Evan had the ability and determination to succeed. She held out hope that they had deemed him worthy of both the title and the pay. The very thought sent unexpected shivers of excitement racing up and down her arms. She glanced at the clock above her desk. Only two more hours and she'd be on her way.
She turned at the sound of footfalls outside her door. Preston Powers stood framed in the doorway of her office. “Ah, here's the lovely lady I've been hoping to see.” He grinned down at her and then turned enough for her to capture a glimpse of Lawrence. He'd obviously accompanied Mr. Powers into the clubhouse again.
Nowadays, she saw more of her brother than she did Evan. Lawrence managed to slip away from his duties quite easily, and although she'd spoken to him at length regarding visits to the clubhouse, her warnings had gone unheeded. Time and again, Lawrence appeared in the clubhouse with Preston. And she'd heard from some of the other workers that her brother frequented many of the other facilities that were considered off limits to the staff. Of course, Lawrence made certain Mr. Powers remained nearby to defend his presence. On one occasion, Mr. Zimmerman had stopped Lawrence and questioned his right to enter one of the clubrooms where the men gathered for cigars and after-dinner drinks, but after Mr. Powers had spoken briefly with the supervisor, Lawrence had been permitted entry. Since then, she'd not seen Mr. Zimmerman question her brother's presence.
Lawrence's attitude worried her. After years of separation, she had hoped that her brother had matured and accepted the fact that they no longer possessed elite stature. Instead, Melinda feared he'd become intent upon gaining entrance to the inner social circle in any way possible. She feared his cavalier behavior would lead him down a path to destruction. And why was Mr. Powers so eager for her brother's companionship? She'd questioned her brother at length, but his lips were sealed as tight as a jar of Emma's peach preserves.
Melinda peeked around Mr. Powers. “Good afternoon, Lawrence. I thought you would be working at the racetrack today.”
“I've already been there. Everything is under control.” He gave her an exaggerated wink. “The sign of a good boss is being able to teach others and then let them do their work.”
Melinda couldn't believe his cocky response. She dug the tips of her fingers into her palms and tried to remain calm. “I didn't realize you were in charge of the racetrack. I thought Evan was supervising that project. The last I'd heard, you work for him.” She arched her brows. “Or have you received a promotion?”
Lawrence chuckled. “Evan is busy with the golf course, and I believe he knows I'm capable of handling any details at the racetrack.”
When Mr. Powers cleared his throat, Melinda looked in his direction. “I'm sorry, Mr. Powers. Is there something with which you need assistance?” She picked up her pen. “Do you wish to register for one of our activities?”
“I was hoping that you could give me a private tour of the island this afternoon. My relatives tell me some of the scenery on the other side of the island is quite beautiful.” He leaned forward and glanced at her ledger. “Why don't you put my name beside the empty space at three o'clock, and I'll return.”
Melinda tapped her pen on the ledger. They didn't give private tours of the island. All tours were for groups of eight to ten people, and there were no tours scheduled for that day.
“I'm sorry, but we don't offer private tours. There is a group tour scheduled for tomorrow morning if you'd like to register.” She did her best to maintain a friendly tone. Mr. Powers remained as determined as she'd observed in Savannah, but since arriving at Bridal Veil, he'd developed an increasingly arrogant manner. A characteristic she disliked. “Shall I write your name down?”
He bent down a bit closer. “No. I'm not interested in sharing you with a group of other guests. How much does a private tour cost?”
She glanced at Lawrence. Why didn't he help her? “Be assured that
if
we offered private tours, I would place your name on my ledger, Mr. Powers.”
He stood and straightened his shoulders. “Since you have nothing listed at three o'clock, perhaps I should ask your supervisor about the possibility of such an arrangement.”
She wanted to kick Preston in the shin, but she forced a smile. “I won't be here at three o'clock, Mr. Powers. That is why there isn't anything posted. It is my afternoon off work.”
Melinda jumped when he clapped his hands together with a loud crack. “Perfect! We can make this tour our own little social outing. I'll call for you at three.”
The man knew no limits! “I'm sorry, but I have a prior engagement. You may recall that when we met in Savannah, I was returning to Bridal Veil to make certain the man I love hadn't been injured in the hurricane.”
“Yes, I do recall.” He nodded his head. “Evan is the fellow that acts as Lawrence's supervisor. However, your brother told me you haven't wed, and I don't see an engagement ring on your finger. Any man who is willing to keep you waiting is a fool.” He shrugged and gave a dismissive wave. “I realize what a prize you are, but it seems Evan isn't worried about losing you.” He chuckled and beamed a roguish smile. “Evan must not be a very smart fellow. If I were your beau, I'd be very worried about another man stealing your heart.”
She could feel the heat rise beneath her collar and climb to her cheeks. She didn't know whether to be flattered, embarrassed, or offended by his bold remarks. Given her position, it mattered little how she feltâshe had to be kind to the guests. “I will pass along your words of caution, Mr. Powers.”
She turned a hard gaze on her brother. “However, I've discovered that there are some men who don't heed warningsâregardless of how frequently they're given.”
Lawrence didn't acknowledge her remark, and Mr. Powers continued to rest against the doorjamb with a smug look on his face. “You may as well know that I don't give up easily, Miss Colson. Eventually I'll convince you to grant me the honor of your company.”
Melinda pushed up from her desk. Obviously Mr. Powers considered her response a challenge rather than a refusal. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Powers, I need to go over some ideas with members of the staff before I depart.” She waited until Mr. Powers stepped from the doorway before she exited her office. Stepping close to her brother's side, she nudged his arm. “I hope that you're not shirking your duties, Lawrence. You could carve out a good future here if you'd try.”
“That is exactly what I'm doing, Melinda. My approach may be different from yours, but I have the same goal as Evan and youâto succeed.” Lawrence stepped around her and walked into the parlor with Mr. Powers.
She wasn't certain what her brother meant about his approach, but the comment nagged at her long after their conversation ended.
âââ
As she returned to her room, Melinda's heartbeat increased with every step. She could hardly contain herself. Once she changed her dress and arranged her hair, she would be off to spend the remainder of the afternoon and early evening with Evan. Although she'd offered to make plans for their time together, Evan had insisted upon making the arrangements. “You spend all of your time planning activities for others; let me arrange for our outing,” he'd said. His offer had touched her. Over the past years, she'd become unaccustomed to others caring for her. She smiled, enjoying the luxury of going off to enjoy her own special event with Evan.
A buggy was waiting outdoors, and the young driver saluted her with great decorum. “Mr. Evan said I was to deliver you to the hunting lodge, Miss Melinda.”
Her thoughts whirled as the young fellow helped her into the buggy. She had guessed they would go to Biscayne, but if Evan was meeting her at the lodge, perhaps he'd thought of another plan. Then again, maybe he was having her come to the lodge to keep her in suspense. If so, his idea was working quite well. Maybe if she engaged the young driver in conversation, she'd learn something about their final destination.
“We're having lovely weather, don't you think?”
The boy's forehead scrunched as though he needed to give the question deep thought before responding. “Yes, ma'am, it has been nice.” His lips tightened into a thin line, and he kept his gaze fixed on the path.
So much for conversation! Might as well come straight to the point. “Is Evan waiting for me at the lodge?”
The boy shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn't know. He gave me my instructions yesterday morning, and I haven't seen him since. Fact is, I had to go and help with yard work at the cottages this morning. I took the buggy with me so I wouldn't be late to pick you up at your quarters.”
“I see. Well, I appreciate your promptness, and I'll be certain to tell Evan you arrived on time and that you've been most courteous.”
The boy grinned. “Thank you, ma'am.” They made the remainder of their short journey in silence. Once they arrived at the lodge, the young man jumped down, circled the buggy, and assisted Melinda down. “I guess you can go inside. Unless you want to wait on the porch.”
Melinda slipped the boy a coin and smiled at his delighted chortle. To offer him a little of the joy she'd been experiencing all day pleased her. The sounds of chatter and laughter drifted from inside the lodge, a reminder that one of the families staying in the clubhouse had scheduled riding lessons for that afternoon. She narrowed her eyes, trying to recall the family's name. Polterâyes, that was it, the Polter family. This was their first time at Bridal Veil, and Mr. Polter was a business associate and close friend of Victor Morley. The Polters had mentioned they'd named their daughter Victoria in honor of their deep friendship with Victor Morley. Melinda wondered if the racetrack had been the primary reason Mr. Polter decided to bring his family to the island this year, for he'd asked several questions about race schedules.
Before they'd even checked into their rooms, the Polters' son and daughter had expressed interest in riding lessons. Melinda had expected Mrs. Polter to discourage her daughter, a striking young woman who appeared to be eighteen or nineteen years of age. Instead, both parents had been quite supportive, and Melinda had registered them and made the arrangements. As with all guests who signed up for riding lessons, the Polters had been advised their lesson would begin at the hunting lodge. Last season Garrison had decided he preferred to limit the number of people entering the barn. Nowadays the instructor greeted guests at the lodge and escorted them to the barn, where horses would be waiting for them in the small corral near the barn.
Melinda's eyes widened and she came to an abrupt halt just inside the door. Evan glanced over his shoulder. When he caught sight of her, his laughter ceased. “Melinda!” He scooted between Victoria Polter and her father and then hurried to Melinda's side. “Didn't you receive my note this morning?”
Her gaze traveled from the tip of his riding boots to the knot in the bright kerchief tied around his neck. He certainly wasn't dressed for dinner in Biscayne, and she wasn't dressed for riding. Melinda shook her head. “The only message I received was from the young man who said you'd sent him to transport me here.” A small lump formed in her throat.
Evan glanced toward the Polter family. “Would you excuse me? This won't take long, and then we can begin your lessons.”
The lump in Melinda's throat increased to boulder-sized proportions as Evan grasped her elbow and led her to the front porch. Once outdoors, she turned to face him. “Exactly what is going on?” She forced her words around the mountainous bulge in her throat. Tears threatened when she looked into his eyes.
“I promise I'll make it up to you, Melinda. I wrote a message and asked Garrison to see that it was delivered. I completely forgot that I'd told Paul to take the buggy and bring you over here.”