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Authors: Anna Schmidt

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“Of course, they are both quite gifted in the arts,” Rose said. “Albert has a lovely tenor and Edgar…”

“Let’s say that should I suddenly have the inspiration to use one or both of your sons in a production, I’ll discuss it with you and Alistair first,” Harry offered.

Rose took a moment to consider the proposal before her, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll speak with their father and have him make the arrangements. Tell Jonah he can expect them as soon as they are out of jail—certainly no later than midmorning tomorrow.”

“It’s a good plan, Rose,” Nola said as she took the older woman’s hand between hers. “I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you to come here tonight. Please know that nothing the boys did has in any way changed my respect and admiration for you, Rose. You were always a good friend to my mother and you have been a loyal and protective friend to me. Nothing can change that.”

Rose pulled her hand free and embraced Nola. “Sometimes it’s difficult to keep up with changing times, Nola dear. Especially for those of us set in our ways. You’ve always been like another daughter to me, you know that.”

“I do,” Nola assured her. “Between you and Judy Lang I have been truly blessed to have not one but two wise women to take the place of my own dear mother.”

Rose composed herself and turned to face Harry. “Violet tells me that had you not broken off your pursuit of her, she would have done so. These modern young women do have a way of asserting themselves.” She glanced at Nola and then shook a finger at Harry. “You may wish to keep that in mind, Harrison.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rose glanced around the room as if to satisfy herself that everything was in order. “Very well, then. I shall see you in the morning, Nola. And, Harry, be sure that Jonah Lang is here as well.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry repeated.

Rose made it as far as the door and turned. “Now, Nola, it occurs to me that those Huff girls should have some part in this. Perhaps they might take on washing the windows while Albert and Edgar get started on the housepainting.”

“I’ll make sure they’re ready to work.”

Rose cocked an eyebrow at Harry. “Are you coming, Harrison?”

“Not just yet,” Nola replied before Harry had a chance to. “Mr. Starbuck has some business that he wishes to discuss with me, so I’ll see you tomorrow, Rose.”

 

As soon as Rose had left, Nola sat down at her desk. It felt more appropriate for a business discussion to take place in her office even at this late hour. She folded her hands and waited for him to speak. Instead, he paced the floor, his hands clasped behind his back, his tie loosened and shirt collar stud open.

“If this is about changing your mind regarding my property, Harry, you can have it,” she said quietly. “All I ask is that you give me the remainder of the season to dispose of things—the furnishings and such.” He had paused and was frowning down at her, obviously stunned that she had guessed what he was going to ask. “And there’s the matter of Mrs. Lang,” Nola continued. “I trust you will offer her employment in some facet of your business. Other than that…”

“Is that what you think this is about? A piece of property?”

“Oh, Harry,” Nola said, smiling up at him, “wasn’t that where this all began?”

“No. Yes, but—”

“But in the bargain we discovered something so much more precious. God gave us this opportunity to become friends, to combine our talents in a project that has brought us both such joy—a project that will bring that same hope and joy to audiences in theaters everywhere.”

“Will you just stop talking for one minute and listen?” he said.

Surprised at his sudden foul mood when she was being so agreeable, Nola pressed her lips into the thin line that had once been her trademark when faced with a situation she could not control.

“Better,” Harry said and resumed his pacing. “Now then, Miss Burns, I have had the occasion to spend some time here in this home, and while I have not yet been privileged to examine the upper floors, my acting friends report that the rooms are quite spacious and comfortable. It has occurred to me that the large bedroom overlooking the sea would make an excellent bridal suite. In time, Ellie tells me there’s a smaller connecting room that could serve as a
nursery. As more children come along, the other rooms would gradually fill up…”

“A nursery? What exactly is it that you are suggesting?” Nola asked, her confusion and curiosity getting the better of her determination to let him speak his piece.

Harry knelt so that their faces were at the same level. “I am not
suggesting
anything.” He removed a blue velvet jeweler’s box from his pocket and opened it. “I am on my knee pleading with you to become my wife so that together we can make this our summer home and raise our children here. I am imagining that we will take your bedroom here on the first floor and make it our library and music room where together we can work on our next play. Then we could turn the tearoom back to its original use as a dining room where we will entertain family and friends.”

Nola watched as if she were in a dream as he slipped the square-cut diamond ring onto her finger.

“I am saying that I love you, Nola, and if you will have me, I would like to spend the rest of my days with you. Will you do me the honor, Nola?”

A gasp and short bark from the foyer reminded them both that Ellie must have returned with Lancelot, so Nola raised her voice as she had seen her actor friends do when they wanted to be sure they were heard all the way to the back row. “Yes,” she shouted as she wound her arms around Harry’s neck. “Yes, I will marry you,” she said as he lifted her and danced with her around the room and on out into the foyer where Judy came running from the kitchen. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she cried ecstatically as she punctuated each affirmation with a kiss to Harry’s laughing face.

“Well, it’s about time,” Ellie announced and released
Lancelot so he could join in their waltz. Then she took her place at the piano and pounded out the wedding march while Judy clapped her hands in time to the music and a startled Lillian Russell came running from her room to see what had caused such celebration.

Epilogue

Spring 1900

N
ola reclined in one of the deck chairs of the ocean liner bound from London to New York and thought of all that had changed in her life in one short year. She glanced over at Harry who was dozing, the new straw hat she’d given him for Christmas tipped low over his eyes.

“My husband,” she whispered just to feel the now familiar but joyous thrill of knowing they were wed.

As if hearing her, Harry smiled and reached over to take her hand, his eyes still hidden beneath the brim of his hat. “Happy?” he asked.

“Beside myself with joy,” she replied.

“It’s been quite a year,” he mused. “The premiere of our first operetta on the New York stage.”

“You
would
think of that first,” Nola teased, then sighed dramatically. “Never fear, I am well aware that the theater will always be your one true love.”

Harry tipped back his hat and gazed at her and the love
that shone from those piercing blue eyes was so undeniable that it took her breath away. “If I never wrote, staged or saw another theatrical event, it would be no loss,” he said. “But if anything were to happen to you…”

“Nothing is going to happen,” she assured him, then she laughed. “Well, something will happen. Over the coming months I will get quite large I expect. My mother certainly did when she was pregnant and she was…”

Harry leaped from his chair and came to kneel next to her. “You’re with child? What on earth are you doing sitting out here in the damp chill? Let’s get you below and get you some hot broth and…” He scooped her high in his arms and headed below to their cabin.

“It’s a baby, not a porcelain doll, Harry,” Nola said, but she was laughing. She found that she laughed a lot these days.

“Our baby,” Harry muttered. “How long have you known?”

“I suspected when we were with my sister—I think she did as well. With three children of her own and another on the way, she would certainly know the signs. This morning while you were wiring New York about the new cabaret season in ’Sconset, I went to see the ship’s doctor and he confirmed it.”

“Someone else will have to handle the summer season. We should stay in New York at least until the child is born so you can have the best of care.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Rose Gillenwater,” Nola said, stifling a yawn as he laid her gently on her bunk. “And besides, who would manage the season? Who would run the rehearsals for our new production? Who would—”

She was interrupted by a light tap at the cabin door.

“Message for you and Mrs. Starbuck, sir. Just came over the wires,” the steward said.

Harry tipped the young man and closed the door. “It’s from Ellie,” he added as he pulled the translated message free of its envelope.

“Read it aloud.”

“Dear Nola and Harry,

Well, here we are at the start of an entire new century. Imagine the changes we’ll witness! I can hardly wait to see the two of you. Everyone here in New York is already buzzing about your latest operetta and jockeying for the opportunity to audition. You should think about staging a preview in ’Sconset again. It would be fun to get the whole gang together.

I have news as well. An old friend from Tennessee came backstage after one of my performances and we have been writing to each other ever since.”

Nola pushed herself to a seated position on the bed and leaned forward. “Do you think that Ellie might have a new beau?”

“The guy’s in Tennessee and she’s in New York. She says ‘old friend’—doesn’t sound like romance to me.”

Nola rolled her eyes. “Keep reading.”

“He raises horses—racehorses. I’ll tell you more when I see you. Oh, almost forgot, Alistair and Rose Gillenwater were in the city to visit friends and they invited me to dinner. Seems that their son, Edgar, caught the acting bug after working backstage last season and Rose is once again faced with a dilemma. She knows that she can no longer dictate the paths her children choose but she is intent on finding some way she can
guide them. So why was I invited to dinner? She wants me to stay in their home for the summer and coach him. ‘If he’s going to pursue this idea, then I want him to be properly schooled in the classics.’ Imagine that!

Well, my entrance cue is coming up so I’ll end this. And so, my dear ones, safe voyage as you cross the Atlantic and much happiness as you set sail on this ship of matrimony. I shall hold you both in my heart and in my prayers until we are together again. Ellie.”

“Oh, poor Rose. She must be beside herself,” Nola said.

Harry stared out the porthole for a long moment. “Now, hear me out,” he said as if she had interrupted some declaration. “If you promise to take care of yourself, perhaps we could put together a show or two for the season, but…”

“Yes,” Nola said softly, reaching up to grasp his hand. “Let’s go home to Nantucket and stage our new play at the cabaret with Ellie and Billy and the others if they’re available.”

“Of course, given your condition, it might be too much—and of course, there may still be those who…”

“I said, let’s do it,” Nola reminded him. “Your plays are a kind of ministry, Harry. The lessons you bring to the stage touch people’s hearts and renew their faith in God and their fellow man. It’s important to continue such good work—to make full use of the talents God has given you.”

Harry sat on the edge of the bunk and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Mrs. Starbuck,” he murmured. “How did I ever get so fortunate?”

“We had good people and God’s eyes watching over us.” She cradled her flat tummy. “And this little dear is going to have more godmothers and godfathers than she will know what to do with.”

“She?” Harry raised one eyebrow. “What if it’s a boy?”

Nola cuddled into the haven of his arms and closed her eyes. “Well, if he’s anything like his father, I had best get as much rest as possible before he arrives.”

Harry’s laughter filled the cabin like music as he gathered her in his arms and the gentle rocking of the sea carried them home to Nantucket.

Dear Reader,

It’s always a delight to return to Nantucket! And the tiny village of ’Sconset on the island’s far eastern shore is a special place indeed. I must admit that when I first heard of rose-covered cottages, I thought it was perhaps the embellishment of an overzealous Chamber of Commerce brochure. But there they were! Quiet, peaceful lanes lined with small weathered gray cottages dressed in garlands of lovely, fragrant pink roses. Add in the history of theater people from Broadway summering there at the turn of the last century and well, it just had to become a setting for a book! One of the elements of living a life driven by faith and spirituality has always been to open my heart and mind to the possibility (rather than the threat) of broadening my personal world to embrace those who think, look or act different from me. In short, like many people, I have to rein in my normal human instincts to stereotype, to label and to judge. For me the “secret” has always been to remind myself that like everything else, diversity was also God’s creation and the challenge becomes to find the “rose vines” that connect us all—even among the thorns of difference and disagreement. I’d love to know your thoughts on this—contact me via my Web site at
www.booksbyanna.com
or by mail at P.O. Box 161, Thiensville, WI, 53092.

Peace and blessings,

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