A Path Toward Love (37 page)

“Me too.” She stared into his eyes and looked so lost, he longed to pull her into his arms. “We ought to go back,” she said, glancing toward the lights burning bright in the windows. Her arm, wrapped in a soft knitted shawl, brushed his as she turned, sending a jolt through him. “I want you to know how much I appreciate what you've done for me, Andrew.” Then she rose and left him, as if she were afraid of his reply.

“I tried to wait up for you last night, but sleep got the better of me.” Aunt Letty glanced at her through the dressing table mirror as Katherine still snuggled in bed, groggy with sleep. The mantle clock ticked past eight o'clock.

Katherine sighed and stretched. “And I had a difficult time going to sleep. My mind was a whirlwind.” The aroma of food cooking drifted from the kitchen only a few buildings away. Her mouth watered, but her stomach flipped with queasiness.

“I imagine so.” Aunt Letty swallowed a sip of steaming coffee her maid had brought in from the dining hall. Deftly she fashioned her long white hair into a bun without Bridget's assistance.

Katherine lifted her head off the pillow and wiggled to an upright position. She felt rested, but no more prepared to face the day. With her future already set like a footprint in concrete, sadness threatened to overwhelm her.

“I'd like to talk to you, my dear, if you don't mind. Are you willing to listen to an old lady spout a bit of hard-won wisdom?” Letty's singsong voice and kind eyes nearly disappeared in a wry grin.

“I'm always ready to talk to you, Aunt Letty.” Katherine slid her feet into slippers placed on the colorful rag rug between the twin beds. Katherine and Aunt Letty dropped onto the sofa by the fireplace.

From her box of loose photographs resting on the tea table, Letty retrieved two unframed and informal pictures. She held up the first
carte de visite
, a thin, paper photograph mounted on thicker paper card. The image was small, little more than two by three inches, and somewhat faded and unclear.

Considering how young Letty appeared in her skirt with wide hoops, it must have been taken at least forty years before. She stood beside her whiskered husband, Norman Benham, holding hands before the Roman coliseum. Her impish smile and obvious delight caught Katherine's attention. Most women looked serious and dignified in photographs, but not Letty. Then Letty handed her a second picture, taken many years later by the ocean. Her great-aunt directed the same happy look at Uncle Norman, who by then had lost most of his thick, curly hair and had gained a potbelly. Even more heartwarming, Norman's loving expression focused on his aging wife with as much fascination as he'd shown when they were still in the bloom of youth.

“These photographs bring back such happy memories.” Letty gave the images one last wistful glance, tucked them back in the shiny ebony box, and let out a sigh. “Oh my, how I miss my Norman. We had a wonderful life together.” Pausing, she tilted her head and gazed at Katherine. “I do hope you enjoy a happy marriage this time around. I may be a sentimental fool, but now that most of my life is behind me, I'm grateful for my memories. I hope you'll have the same. Sometimes that's all we have left at the end.”

Katherine flinched, but she pasted on a smile to hide her discomfort. Aunt Letty's eyes seemed to pierce right through her facade.

“Katherine, I believe you have doubts about Randy. Grave misgivings.” She leaned closer. Frown lines reappeared between Aunt Letty's eyebrows. Katherine braced herself for unpleasant advice. “Marriage without a dash of real passion won't bring you joy or even satisfaction. An arranged marriage isn't the answer.

In the long run everyone needs love—an abundance of love. If you don't have it now with Randy, there's no guarantee you'll find it once you're married.” She rubbed Katherine's hand. “Are you willing to take the gamble that love may never come?”

The morning chill suddenly warmed. Katherine ran her finger between her perspiring neck and the tight collar of her shirtwaist. “Yes, I'm willing to take a chance.”

The blood drained from Aunt Letty's face and lips. “Was the pain you suffered so great in Act One that you're unwilling to risk it again in Act Two?”

Katherine stared at her aunt as if she'd slapped her, and she abruptly looked at her hands, twisting the folds of her skirt. Was that what drove her most of all? Fear?

“I'm so sorry things didn't work out well with Charles. But can you really live a happy, contented life without true devotion?” Aunt Letty asked in a soft but urgent tone.

Katherine forced a short laugh. “Don't most people? Very few couples experience true love, as you did.” She looked to her aunt, begging her to let it go. “Randy is kind. He's fond of me. That's a form of devotion, at least.”
And I've only agreed to court, not marry .
. .

She wasn't entirely convinced she could live happily, or even contentedly, without real love. Without it only family connections and family fortune would bind her to Randy—certainly not common interests. Or a shared dedication to the Lord that was even more important. But to risk her heart again . . . No, she didn't have the courage. To chase what she and Andrew were fighting would be very dangerous indeed.

“Katherine, we both know you're in love with Andrew.” She reached out to hold her hands. “I can see it every time you're together. It's as plain as the blush in your cheeks.”

Katherine paused for several seconds, unable to respond. Then she wrapped her arms around Aunt Letty's small but plump shoulders and hugged her tightly. “Thank you for the prayers and all your advice.”

Letty pulled back and viewed her with deep affection. “You have the Lord to lead you. Consider your next steps with Randy very carefully, my dear. I'll pray even more fervently that you'll hear His voice. Will you seek His path?”

“I will.”

“Good,” she said, squeezing her hands. “Simply be honest and let your heart answer one question: What sort of love will bring you the most satisfaction when you're old and gray like me?” She smiled. “Then I'll be confident you'll know what to do.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

A
ndrew bent over the billiard table, gauging his next shot, when the door to the recreation hall pushed open. Looking up, he saw Katherine scanning the grounds over her shoulder as if fearful she'd be seen, then slipping inside. She strode toward him, a letter in hand, a frown creasing her face.

He sucked in a deep breath, knowing there were likely only two reasons she'd seek him out today. And by the look on her face, it wasn't the reason he'd prayed for all night.

Katherine edged near. “I'm glad you're alone. I'd like this as private as possible.”

“Of course.” He placed his cue stick on the green baize table. The recreation hall was often crowded midafternoon, but today's warm, sunny weather drew most of the campers outside to the boats, tennis courts, and nature trails.

Katherine handed him the letter. “A boy from the Wayside Inn delivered this. It's from Harriet Roles. She's asking to meet with me.” She pressed her palms against the rim of the table. “I both dread it and feel relieved it's finally upon us. I'd hoped to be calm and collected by the time I faced her, but I'm afraid my heart is pounding like a sledgehammer.”

“I understand.” He scanned the letter and returned it to Katherine. Harriet requested a meeting at four o'clock at the Wayside Inn, a modest tourist hotel on Raquette Lake.

“It's short notice, I know, but I'm anxious to get the payment settled, and I'm sure she is too,” Katherine said.

“Do you still want to meet with her in person or would you like me to go in your place?” He didn't think Katherine should meet Harriet alone.

Katherine hesitated and then shook her head. “Thank you, but I should handle my own problems without help from”— pausing, Katherine's gaze locked on his—“my dearest friend.”

Not the words he wished to hear, but exactly what he expected. How many times over the course of the last few weeks had she called him a friend? Too many. His colliding emotions dropped to the pit of his stomach like wooden cue balls. “All right. But let me at least row you to the inn. It's quite a distance, and you might get tired. Or the weather could turn.”

She shook her head. He felt sure going alone was a mistake, yet he held back his frustration. “All right, I understand it might look inappropriate for me to accompany you. Why don't you ask Randy instead? If you explain the situation, I'm sure he'll be glad to lend you his support. Don't go through this completely alone, Katherine.”

Her forehead creased. “No, I can't go to Randy. He's against me giving her anything. I'm sure he'd tell my parents, and I don't want them to know because they'd try to stop me. I'll explain everything to them later, after Harriet and I settle things.”

“Maybe Randy would agree to keep this quiet for a while.”

Katherine shook her head again. “No, I don't think so. Can't you understand why I need to do this by myself?” Her plaintive look tore at his heart. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and protect her from anything and anyone causing her so much anguish. But of course he couldn't. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood as stiff as a soldier.

“I want to keep this visit as discreet as possible. I'm hoping no one even notices I'm gone. If you come with me, someone might realize we were both absent. The gossips would be all abuzz, and my parents—well, they'd come after us both.”

He couldn't hide his grimace. “All right. I see your point. But it's more important for me to help you than worry about the repercussions. I don't mind taking a chance.”

“Your devotion to me is more than I deserve, Andrew.” She smiled sadly, and for a moment he thought she'd reach up and give him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. When she didn't, disappointment pinched his chest. Why did he still covet his cousin's intended when he didn't stand a chance with her?

Katherine squeezed his arm. She stirred feelings simmering just below the surface and ready to boil over. He had no right to enjoy even her lightest touch; he wished she wouldn't tempt him in even small, innocent ways.

A few awkward seconds passed. Finally she spoke. “I must be going. It's almost time.”

Andrew nodded and drummed his fingers against the polished rim of the billiard table. “Before you leave, please let me give you some advice.”

“I'm listening.”

“Don't make any financial arrangements until you talk them over with me. You'll need legal counsel. You're not wealthy, but your parents are. Harriet might try to acquire some of their money. So tell her you must consult with your attorney before you agree to any amount.”

“Not that I even have more than a few spare dollars before harvest,” she said. “To try to wrestle more from me would be like getting blood from a turnip. But I hope . . . I hope I can come to some sort of resolution with her.” She smiled gamely and left. He trailed behind her, at a respectable distance, to the boat landing, and resisted the urge to wave as she stepped into a rowboat.

The lake gleamed like the smooth sheen of satin, so at least he needn't worry a storm might brew while she was gone. He'd come back in about an hour or so and wait for her return. In the meantime, he'd try and review the information Mr. Wainwright had given him concerning the California rail line and plan his strategy. He laughed at himself under his breath. Until Katherine returned, he'd be able to think of nothing else but her.