To Have and To Hold (11 page)

Mr. Morley placed his coffee cup on the sideboard. “We've already considered that problem, Frank. It was agreed that the first guests to arrive on the island will have first choice of rooms for the season. However, none of this is of importance right now. The plans have been approved. What we need is to get the work completed.” He waved at Marshall.

“As Mr. Morley told you earlier, we're about ready to lay the footings, and I'll be glad to have your help. Nothing better than having an experienced man like you helping to make sure the measurements are correct and the footings are properly placed.” Marshall hoped the bit of flattery would ease the tension that permeated the room.

Frank dropped the chair to all four legs and stood. “Right now I think I'll go upstairs and unpack. I'll go down to the work site and speak to the other supervisors once I'm settled.” He'd gone only a few steps when he glanced over his shoulder. “By the way, I saw Johnson Radliff in Biscayne. Has he decided to come in on this project, or is he throwing in with the group on Jekyl?”

Mr. Morley stiffened and paled. “I have no idea why he's in Biscayne, but he's not involved in this project, and he's not involved over at Jekyl, either.”

“Just thought you'd be interested in knowing he's in the area,” Frank said. He smirked before he continued up the stairs.

“If I'm not needed, I'm going to work on the plans for one of the investors' cottages.” Stuart tapped the drawings. “I'll leave these with you, Marshall.”

Marshall nodded. “Right. I'll talk to you later, Stuart.” Once the architect had departed, Marshall turned to Mr. Morley. “I'm not certain this arrangement is going to work. Frank doesn't appear to be willing to work for me, and we're already behind schedule.”

Mr. Morley leaned back in his chair. “He'll come around, Marshall. I have every confidence you'll complete our project on time. I know that job in Colorado means a lot to you.”

Marshall nodded and wondered if the job in Colorado was going to be waved in front of him every time they were a day or two behind schedule. “I'm going to do my best for you, Mr. Morley, but we're going to need more laborers before long.” He motioned toward the door. “I should be heading back to work.”

“I'll walk along with you. There's something else I want to discuss.”

Marshall inhaled a deep breath. He wasn't prepared for any more upheaval. The confrontation with Frank Baker had been enough conflict for one day. The two men headed down a winding path leading toward the work site. A group of male buntings vying for the attention of the female birds flew across the path. The birds' bright red bodies and purple heads flashed in the morning sunlight. No doubt each one hoped to be noticed by one of the shy females that remained hidden in the live oaks.

Marshall bent his head and passed under a low-hanging branch. “What was it you wanted to discuss? Something to do with the construction?”

Victor shook his head. “No, it's Boyd. I'm not certain how much you know about his condition, but I don't think he'll be with us by the time we've completed our building project. Alcohol has ruined his health, and the doctors don't hold out much hope for him.”

Marshall didn't interrupt, but he was surprised Boyd had taken Mr. Morley into his confidence. Although Marshall knew Boyd had worked at the Morley residence, there was obviously a closer friendship between the two men than Marshall had imagined.

“Boyd is very hopeful that you will remain here on the island after his death,” he said as he sat on a wooden bench and indicated that Marshall should join him. “Audrey is going to need someone strong to rely upon, and he thinks you're the best choice. He worries about her being alone.”

“Why me? He barely knows me.”

“He believes you'll provide excellent help because you can provide the understanding she'll need.”

It took only a moment of reflection before Marshall knew why Boyd wanted him to be present. Although Boyd's death and the death of Marshall's father would be completely different, the cause would be the same: excessive drinking. No doubt Audrey would experience some of the same anger that had surfaced when Marshall's father had died. For years now, Marshall had been fighting to keep bitterness out of his heart, but it had been an uphill battle. And he didn't know that he had the strength to help anyone else climb that mountain.

Before he could give voice to his thoughts, Boyd approached. “Hope you fellows don't mind if I join you.” He drew near Marshall and grasped his shoulder. “Victor told me the two of you would have your talk down here. I hope you don't think I'm a coward for having him ask you to help me out, but my emotions get the best of me nowadays, and I didn't want to blubber.”

Marshall stood and offered the bench to Boyd. He couldn't fully comprehend how Boyd must feel, but he did understand that Audrey would have difficult times ahead as she faced her father's death.

Boyd settled on the wooden bench. “It's my hope that with the help of you two men, Audrey will adjust to life without me. I worry she'll grieve too much and blame herself for things over which she's had no control.” He swiped away a tear that escaped and trickled down his weathered cheek. “I hope you know how much I appreciate both of you. I know I'm asking a lot. It would be different if we had some family. But Thora's the closest thing we've got, and she needs help herself.”

Marshall couldn't deny a dying man's request, but he didn't think Audrey would accept his help—not that he had much to offer. Still, the woman held him at a distance, and he'd been unable to figure out why.

“Audrey will need someone to help her overcome losing me, but once she learns to lean on her heavenly Father, she'll be just fine.” Boyd leaned forward and rested his hands on his cane. “You can show her the way, Marshall. I'm sure of that.”

“I hope you're right, Boyd, but I've already told you that it's been only in recent months that I've realized my own need to trust God. Having had an unreliable father doesn't make it easy.”

“I know. And that's exactly why I want you around. I've still got some time left, and I plan to help you all I can before I leave this earth.”

Marshall nodded his agreement, but he doubted whether Boyd had enough time to teach him about trusting a father. And unless Audrey soon changed her attitude toward Marshall, he'd never be able to help her at all.

Chapter 10

Audrey couldn't be certain whether Mr. Morley had overheard her bemoan the need for help at Bridal Fair or if her father had privately spoken to him. However, she didn't care who or what had brought Irene Throckmorton to their front door several days previous. Audrey had simply been pleased to learn that she would have additional help. Of course, Thora hadn't been quite so thrilled by their new arrival.

Thora plopped her gardening basket on the front porch. “I say you can't trust her.”

“And I say you need to remember that the war is over and a Northern girl can launder sheets and help with meals just as well as a Southern girl.” Audrey had been defending Irene's competence and loyalty ever since the girl set off for the washhouse a short time ago, and she was growing weary of the battle. “I don't care if she's from Pennsylvania or Georgia. I'm just thankful for her help. Not only that, but she can milk a cow, and since Mr. Morley also sent along two of those for our use, I, for one, am quite grateful.”

“It's that kind of attitude that caused us to lose the War of Northern Aggression,” Thora said, her finger pointing at Audrey. “When you're willing to trust anyone who crosses your path, you're doomed for destruction.”

“I don't think Irene has any intention of putting too much bluing in the wash water or adding poison to our milk. She came here because we needed help and because she needed a job.”

“And because she's Mr. Morley's friend—yet another Northerner. The two of them are probably in cahoots.” Thora traced her fingers through her thin white hair. “We'll probably all be dead by the end of the week. Then there won't be anyone to stop Mr. Morley from becoming the owner of Bridal Fair. I imagine that will make him mighty happy. 'Course we won't be alive to see his great pleasure.”

Audrey stepped to the edge of the porch and waved to Dr. Wahler and his daughters as they rounded the bend in the road. “I think you must stay awake at night to dream up these farfetched ideas. I do hope you never mention any of this nonsense in front of the children. You'll frighten them out of their wits.”

Thora shrugged. “The truth won't scare them any more than those fairy tales they hear before going to bed every night.”

Audrey turned on her heel to face the old woman. “But what you've imagined is not the truth, Aunt Thora. You shouldn't spread fear with your outlandish tales, especially with young children.” Before she could further expand upon her concerns, the two girls ran up the path and wrapped their arms around Audrey's legs. She bent forward to embrace their shoulders.

“We're going to help Aunt Thora pull weeds,” Julie said.

“And I'm going to plant them in our yard,” Josie added.

Thora shook her head and smiled at the girl. “We don't plant weeds. We throw them out. It's flowers and herbs we're going to plant down by your cabin.”

“But some of the ones we pulled yesterday had pretty flowers on them. I think we should keep those,” Josie argued.

“But those weeds choke out the really pretty flowers.” Aunt Thora held her open hands a few inches apart and squeezed them in and out. “You don't want those weeds to strangle our pretty flowers, do you?”

Josie opened her eyes as wide as two china saucers. “Nooo.”

“Then we better make sure we don't plant any weeds at your house.” Thora extended her arm. “Come now. We've got lots of work to get done today. First we'll work in our garden. We'll dig up some special herbs that we can plant by your cabin. In the spot your papa dug for us.”

Audrey listened as Aunt Thora told the girls about everything from lavender to dill weed. As she described each herb and its many uses, the girls became more and more excited. “And if you do good work, we'll come back and bake some cookies later on.”

The girls clapped their hands, delighted by the possibility. Audrey wasn't certain Thora would have the energy for both garden work and baking cookies, but she didn't correct her. If she wasn't up to the task, they would reschedule the cookie baking for another time.

“Are you coming with us, Miss Audrey?” Julie offered her chubby hand.

Audrey patted the girl's curly locks. “Not today, but maybe I can help you another time.” The answer seemed to suffice, for Julie skipped alongside Aunt Thora and offered to carry the gardening basket.

The three of them made a lovely picture as they walked down the path holding hands. Audrey smiled at the sight. She could tell from the set of her aunt's shoulders that the woman was in her glory. Of course, Aunt Thora was in her glory anytime she was in charge of a project.

Forcing her attention away from the threesome, Audrey turned toward the path leading to the washhouse. Unlike Thora, she was certain Irene would do a fine job, but she could likely use some help with the mounds of laundry. Besides, it would give her an opportunity to learn more about the girl. Except for the brief information Audrey had received from Mr. Morley, Audrey knew little about Irene. She had been employed by Mrs. Morley after Audrey's departure for Bridal Veil, and Mattie's letters seldom mentioned anyone other than the employees Audrey had worked with at Temberly.

How delightful it would have been if Mr. Morley had brought Mattie to help at Bridal Fair. Audrey smiled at the silly thought. Mrs. Morley would never turn loose of Mattie. She'd been with them far too long. Besides, Audrey was certain Mattie wouldn't want to leave Temberly and the Morley children any more than Mrs. Morley would want to lose her.

Audrey continued along the path but slowed her step and glanced toward an overgrowth of bushes to her right, certain she'd heard someone choking. Pushing aside the branches, she stepped through the underbrush and stopped in her tracks. Her father was leaning against the tree, gasping for air. As she approached, he leaned forward and retched. Her stomach knotted at the sight. For years, she'd come upon this exact scene after her father's nights of carousing and drinking with his friends. Lately, she had been so sure that he'd given up his old habits. What had changed? After all of his promises and his claims of turning to God, how could he pick up the bottle again?

She hurried to his side and reached into her skirt pocket. “Here—use this to wipe your mouth.”

When he looked up she gasped at the sight of his pasty complexion. His hands trembled as he reached for the handkerchief she offered. He attempted a feeble smile. “Not feeling very well this morning. Don't know what's come over me.”

She wanted to ask him how much he'd had to drink but quickly decided this wasn't the time for questions. After all, there was no alcohol in the house. She'd made it a rule when they moved to Bridal Fair. “Come on. I'll help you back to the house. I think you need to rest.” Thankfully, he permitted her to guide him back to the house without argument. In the old days, he would have fought her attempts to help him into bed to sleep off the effects of his drinking.

As she pulled the sheet across his chest, her father motioned to her. “Tell Marshall I won't be able to go into Biscayne with him this afternoon.”

Marshall!
Her father had gone into Biscayne with him yesterday. So her father hadn't been drinking while at Bridal Fair. Instead, the two men had gone into Biscayne, and after they'd ordered supplies, they'd likely stopped at a local tavern—or two or three. How could Marshall entice her father to do such a thing? Her thoughts ran wild as she contemplated exactly what she'd like to say to Marshall Graham. The man was fortunate he wasn't within her reach at the moment, or he'd likely receive an earful that would be less than ladylike.

Late in the afternoon, Marshall stepped off
Old Bessie
and headed toward Bridal Fair. He'd been sorely disappointed when Irene had arrived at the dock earlier in the day and told him Boyd wouldn't be able to accompany him across the river to Biscayne. Though the girl told him Boyd had taken ill, she refused to give any additional details, saying she'd been advised by Miss Audrey to deliver the message and nothing more. Withholding information regarding Boyd's medical condition left Marshall perplexed, but Miss Audrey's behavior generally puzzled him. Today had been no different. He hoped the older man would be feeling better by now.

Glancing over his shoulder, he gave
Old Bessie
a final glance and wondered if Victor Morley and his associates would soon send money for a new launch. There was little doubt that
Old Bessie
couldn't make many more trips across the waters. He didn't know what a new boat would cost, but these were men who surely realized they'd need to replace the boat sooner rather than later. In fact, he'd been surprised the launch had managed to pull the barge carrying the two cows Mr. Morley sent a couple of weeks earlier. That event had likely done little to help the condition of the old boat.

Birds twittered and chirped overhead, and the scent of the river hung in the air as he sauntered along the path to Bridal Fair. No wonder Boyd loved this place. It had a peacefulness and beauty all its own—so different from the bustle of Biscayne. His excursion into the waterfront town, known for the fishermen who delivered abundant catches of shrimp and oysters, had buzzed with noise and activity, but Marshall had missed Boyd's company. Although today's trip had proved beneficial, it hadn't been nearly as pleasant as yesterday's joint venture with the older man.

Boyd had offered good advice regarding the construction, and they had collaborated about the many challenges of such a large project. They'd shared ideas they thought might prove helpful to complete the clubhouse early.

At first Marshall had been hesitant to leave Frank in charge, but Mr. Morley thought it might lessen some of the tension between them if Marshall occasionally granted his assistant oversight. And though Marshall had expected Frank to object to the idea, he had appeared pleased to take on the responsibility.

There was little doubt Frank still harbored resentment toward Marshall, but he had worked with men like Frank in the past, and eventually, he'd won most of them to his side. Now he hoped he could do the same with Frank. Truth be told, Marshall could understand the man's resentment. He'd arrived at the jobsite and been demoted from a promised position before he'd even begun work. Had the circumstances been reversed, Marshall knew he'd likely harbor some bitterness too. He probably would have turned down the job and found other work.

Though he'd attempted to sort out possibilities of why Frank had chosen to remain, he hadn't come to any reasonable conclusion. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd known and developed a kinship with the other supervisors, or because he feared he couldn't find immediate work elsewhere, though that idea didn't hold water. Frank could have secured a job at Jekyl Island or at the hotel construction site in Biscayne if he'd truly wanted other work. Then again, maybe he simply decided to remain in order to annoy Mr. Morley. Whatever the reason, Marshall hoped he and Frank could eventually forge a working relationship that would be beneficial to both of them.

After returning to his room and washing up for supper, he descended the stairs and glanced around the table. “Glad to see I'm not the last one to arrive.”

Thora grunted. “You
are
the last one. Boyd isn't coming down for supper. He's still sick.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?”

Audrey flashed an angry look in his direction. “I believe you've done enough already.” Before he could question her, she turned her attention to Frank Baker. “Would you care to lead the evening prayer for our meal?”

Frank traced his finger beneath his collar. “I'm not much of one for public praying. I'm sure one of the other men would be pleased to take over.”

“If you have no objection, I will do it,” Marshall offered. After her curt response earlier, he thought she might not accept his offer. Her only response was an abrupt nod. The men bowed their heads as Marshall thanked God for their food and asked that Boyd be granted a speedy return to health. He thought he heard Audrey murmur something when he prayed for her father, but he couldn't be certain, and she made herself scarce during the rest of the meal. Irene and Thora had taken over serving duties while Audrey remained in the kitchen.