To Have and To Hold (16 page)

When his feet hit the floor early the next morning, Marshall once again repeated the verse, pleased when he remembered all of the words. He snapped his suspenders over the shoulders of his blue chambray shirt. Marshall preferred to wear clothes that allowed him to get into the midst of the workers without worry, while Mr. Baker donned a white shirt and remained at a distance. They were as opposite as two men could be, finding little upon which they could agree.

“Today, I will remember to be slow to anger,” Marshall murmured as he descended the stairs and took his place at the breakfast table. Even when Frank attempted to gain Audrey's attention, he held his tongue in check.
Slow to anger, slow to anger.
He cast his gaze downward and didn't lift his head until he'd finished eating.

Instead of waiting until the others prepared to depart, Marshall stood and nodded to the other men. “I'm going down to the dock to meet the boat. Mr. Morley's due in this morning. We'll be over to the work site shortly.” Marshall kept his eyes fixed on Harry Fenton rather than Frank Baker. “Make certain the men keep to their assigned tasks. We're getting closer to being on schedule again, and I want it to remain that way.”

Marshall grabbed his hat from the hall tree and headed out the front door. For once, he was looking forward to Mr. Morley's visit. In spite of earlier delays, he'd finally been able to prod the men into giving a full day's work for their pay. If they continued at this pace, the resort would be completed for the grand opening. January of 1888 seemed like a long time off, and indeed it was just over a year away. Even so, if they were going to finish on schedule, they'd need good weather and good workmen. He was praying they'd have both.

Achieving the anticipated deadline would provide him with ample time to arrange for his move to Colorado in the early spring of 1888. He smiled as he considered his plan.
What about Audrey?
The question invaded his thoughts with such force that he stopped and looked over his shoulder to see if someone had spoken the words.

He looked upward and surveyed the cloudless blue sky. “What about Audrey? I can't help someone who won't accept my offers.” Using the toe of his boot, he kicked a stone and watched it skip and tumble from the path. The idea of delaying his departure now seemed a foolish agreement. Audrey wouldn't appreciate his sacrifice, of that he was becoming more and more certain. And if things continued as they had in recent days, it would be Dr. Wahler or Frank Baker providing her with comfort when her father died.

Marshall was a man of his word, but if Audrey looked to either of those two men for consolation, surely he could consider his obligation fulfilled. Couldn't he? And what if she wanted to remain on Bridal Veil Island? She'd told him it had been her father who'd wanted to leave Pittsburgh, but women could be as changeable as the weather. She now seemed to enjoy living on the island, and maybe she'd decide to remain there forever. Then what would he do? His stomach clenched as his frustration mounted. None of this was making any sense. He cared for Audrey. He didn't want to go to Colorado without her, but he didn't want to remain on Bridal Veil. And he certainly didn't want Dr. Wahler or Frank Baker to win her heart.

His thoughts were still in turmoil when Victor Morley stepped out of the boat and onto the dock a short time later. “You look rather glum. Things not going well with the clubhouse?” His eyebrows dipped low on his forehead.

“We've made enough progress that I think you'll be pleased. Right now, we're only a few days off schedule. Barring any unexpected problems, I think we'll be right on schedule by the time you leave the island.”

A smile spread across the investor's face. “Now, that is good news! I'm proud of you, my boy.” He patted Marshall's shoulder as he offered his congratulations.

“Thank you, sir. I won't deny it's been a challenge, but I think the men now understand that I'm in charge.”

“You look as though you've lost your best friend.” The two men matched their stride as they continued toward Bridal Fair.

Though he hadn't planned to confide in Victor, Marshall soon found himself divulging his hopes, fears, and concerns.

By the time Marshall had finished his explanation, they had neared the front porch of Bridal Fair. Mr. Morley grasped his arm. “So you believe your commitment to Boyd may ruin your plans to move on to Colorado. Is that right?”

Marshall nodded. “I know it sounds selfish, but—”

“Do you love Audrey?”

“I . . . I . . . I care for her, but I can't say for certain that I love her. Not yet. There never seems enough time for us to be alone. And when there is, she's with Dr. Wahler or Frank Baker.”

Mr. Morley chuckled. “The jealousy I hear in your voice sure makes you sound like a man in love, but I won't argue with you. I will tell you that it's best to follow your heart when it comes to love.”

Marshall arched his brows. If Audrey decided to remain on Bridal Veil, that would mean giving up the Colorado project. Surely Mr. Morley didn't think he could so easily push aside such an opportunity.

Before there was time to question Mr. Morley further, the front door opened and Audrey stepped outside. “Mr. Morley! I didn't know you'd arrived. Father's been asking when you might come for a visit.”

“I was just going to come inside. I want to change clothes before going to take a look at the construction site.” He glanced at Marshall. “I'll take a minute to say hello to Boyd, and then we can be on our way.”

“I'll wait out here. Care to join me, Audrey? It's a beautiful day.”

She hesitated a moment. “It is a beautiful day, but I need to go help with the laundry while Father is resting.”

“I don't think Irene would mind if you took a few minutes for yourself.”

Audrey shook her head. “Irene's already had to take over too many of my duties. I can't sit idle while she's working. It wouldn't be fair.”

Marshall shrugged a shoulder. “Seems you're willing to take time to visit with Dr. Wahler when he comes calling.”

She whirled around, her lips pressed in a tight thin line and the golden fleck in her eyes dancing with fire. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“N-n-nothing. Forget I mentioned it. You have a right to spend your time however you please.”

“You're absolutely correct on that account!”

Audrey yanked open the door and let it slam behind her. The sound of heavy footsteps clapping down the hallway emphasized what he already knew: He'd spoken without thinking. He dropped back into a chair and rubbed his forehead. Would he ever understand how to talk to a woman?

Chapter 15

When Mr. Morley returned to the front porch a short time later, Marshall was still confused about Audrey as well as his future. He jumped to his feet, glad to get away from the house and have something other than Audrey to fill his thoughts. “I think you're going to be surprised to see how much has been accomplished since your last visit. The bricklayers and stonemasons you hired in Pittsburgh have been a real help. They've even been training some of the other men.”

Mr. Morley clapped him on the shoulder. “Glad to hear that. I imagine those fellows will want to return to Pittsburgh to visit their families from time to time, and we'll want the work to continue at a regular pace.”

As they neared the clearing and the construction site came into view, Marshall cupped his hand above his eyes. Leaving Mr. Morley to keep up with him, Marshall picked up his pace. “What's going on?” he shouted, now at a full run.

Except for the workers who had arrived from Pittsburgh and a few of the other workers, most of the men were lounging beneath trees that bordered one side of the clubhouse. Frank Baker sat among them, his laughter ringing out louder than the rest. Although Frank glanced in his direction, he didn't answer, and he didn't get up. None of the workers appeared worried that he'd discovered them lounging about instead of working.

Marshall bent from the waist and panted for air. When he'd finally regained his ability to breathe at a somewhat normal rate, he pointed at the men. “Why aren't you working? We've finally gotten back on schedule, and now I find you lounging around as if the building is already completed.” He turned an angry glare at Frank. “And why have you allowed this to happen?” Before Frank could answer, Marshall waved at the men. “All of you! Get back to work, right now!”

His shouted command echoed in the crisp autumn air, but the men didn't move an inch. He clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting as Mr. Morley approached the group. The older man frowned at the men. “I've been told you're making good progress on the construction.” He studied the completed foundation for a moment. “And I can see that's true, but I don't understand why none of you men are working.” He looked directly at Frank. “Care to explain?”

Moving ever so slowly, Frank pushed to his feet and extended his hand to Mr. Morley. “Truth of the matter is, these men aren't feeling real comfortable working here right now. Not after what one of them discovered earlier this morning.”

Marshall moved closer. “And exactly what was that?”

Ignoring Marshall's question, Frank stepped closer to Mr. Morley. “Don't know if you realize it, but lots of Southerners can be mighty superstitious, and I'm afraid we got the superstitious type working here at the clubhouse. I think it's gonna take a whole lot of convincing to get 'em back to work.”

Mr. Morley motioned Frank and Marshall away from the group of men. “Why don't you tell us exactly what caused this sudden behavior, Frank.”

Turning his back to Marshall, Frank motioned toward the clubhouse. “One of the men went inside this morning and discovered some bones.”

Mr. Morley stiffened. “Human bones?”

“Can't say for sure, but they look like they could be. Soon as Joe—that's the fella that found the bones—soon as he came upon those bones, a bird flew overhead and then landed beside the bones.”

Marshall sighed. Such nonsense. “And what's that supposed to mean?”

“A sure sign of death if they continue working. They're not about to go back until something's done.”

“Like what?” Marshall hadn't meant to shout, but he was having trouble controlling his anger. He didn't know what annoyed him more—the men sitting around or Frank ignoring him.

Frank shrugged as he finally turned to look at Marshall. “Guess that would be your problem to solve. You're the project manager.” He smirked and folded his arms across his chest. Marshall didn't miss the evil gleam in his eyes.

Mr. Morley strode across the dirt and rubble and tipped his hat at the workers. “Good morning, men. I hear there's some concern about returning to your duties. Care to tell me how we can solve this problem?”

After murmuring among themselves, one of the men stood. “We're thinkin' you're gonna have to find someone to break the spell 'fore any of us is gonna commence to working agin.”

Marshall didn't know if he should be thankful for the older man's help or resent the fact that he hadn't given him the opportunity to solve the dilemma on his own. If the men looked to someone else to solve their problems, Marshall would never gain their respect. He'd already had enough difficulty trying to convince them he was in charge rather than Frank.

He drew closer to the men. “Why don't all of you gather around and we'll pray. I'll ask for God's protection over all of you while you continue working here on the island.” He hoped his enthusiastic offer would result in their agreement.

One of the workers leaning against a tree trunk shook his head. “You go ahead and pray if you want, but it's gonna take more than a prayer to get us back to work.” He nudged one of the other men. “Right, fellas?”

They looked like chickens pecking the ground as they bobbed their heads in unison. Marshall couldn't decide whether to laugh or to bellow at the men. He doubted either would be effective. He strode toward them and came to a halt beside Joe. “I can't help if you don't tell me what needs to be done.” He waved his arm in a wide circle that encompassed all of the men. “I'm pretty certain all of you need to earn money, especially those of you with families. I'd say it's best for all of us to get this taken care of as soon as possible.”

He hoped mention of pay would prove persuasive with some of the men. Finally, one of the laborers stood and ambled toward him. “You gotta find someone with the power to remove the curse.”

Marshall waited for further explanation, but none was forthcoming. He sighed. “Exactly where would I find such a person?”

“Only one I know of is Ole Blue Lightnin'. 'Course I don't know how you'd go 'bout finding him.”

Marshall didn't know if Ole Blue Lightnin' was man or beast, but if that's what it was going to take to get the men back to work, he knew he'd better find out—and fast. “You must have some idea. Otherwise, how do you know this Blue Lightning even exists?”

A chorus of gasps erupted, and Marshall took a backward step as the men jumped to their feet and shouted at him.

Frank tipped his hat to the back of his head and grinned. “Now you really got 'em riled up with your disbelieving ways.”

Marshall ignored Frank. “Settle down and let's try to reason together. I need you back at work, and you need your pay. Right?” He didn't wait for an answer. “So for all of us to get what we need, I'm giving you the rest of the day off to try to find Ole Blue and bring him back here to take care of this curse. Are we agreed?”

The men looked at each other and nodded as Joe stepped forward. “We'll see what we can do, but ain't no guarantees.”

“There's no guarantee on your pay, either, so keep that in mind while you're looking. And if you decide prayer might work better than Ole Blue, just let me know. I think the power of God will do more for you than Ole Blue.”

The men walked off, obviously unaffected by his final comment. Mr. Morley's visit wasn't going as he'd planned. Not by a long shot.

With a smirk as wide as the Argosy River spread across his face, Frank leaned against one of the trees. “Looks like you're gonna fall behind schedule again, Marshall.” He shoved a piece of dry marsh grass between his teeth. “Too bad.”

Marshall glowered at him. “Instead of standing around doing nothing, I think you better get over to the clubhouse and lend a hand. After all, you've got plenty of experience. Or did that curse include you, too?”

“Come, Marshall,” Morley said. “Show me what's been completed and then you'd better see what you can do about locating this Ole Blue fellow.” Mr. Morley strode past Frank and called over his shoulder. “If that curse included you, Frank, you can pack your bags and head back home. Otherwise, I suggest you do as your project manager ordered.”

From the scowl on Frank's face, Marshall thought maybe he would decide to leave. Would the assistant manager's departure halt the problems that gave rise at every turn? Marshall pushed the thought aside, and though he did his best to point out all of the progress and give a positive report to Mr. Morley, the idea of locating Ole Blue Lightning wasn't far from his mind. “The foundation is in good shape and I had hoped we would begin work on the first floor tomorrow.”

“It is looking quite—”

Shouts of alarm came from the rear of the building site, and several men raced toward them, shouting for the doctor. Marshall grabbed one of the men by the arm. “What's happened?”

Fear shone in the man's eyes. “One of the men fell off the foundation wall into the basement. He's hurt bad. Landed hard and hit his head on one of the stone walls. He needs a doctor.”

Marshall raced to a far oak tree where an emergency bell had been tied to one of the upper branches. He grabbed the heavy rope and yanked with all his might. Waving to the worker who had delivered the news, he motioned toward the path. “You watch for the doctor. If you don't see him coming in a couple minutes, ring that bell again. I'm going back to see how . . .” He hesitated. “What's the man's name who's been injured?”

“Jonas. Jonas Fuller.”

“I'm going back to see if I can lend a hand with Jonas. Keep your eye peeled for the doctor. You hear me?” Terror strained his voice as he attempted to remain calm. Panic wouldn't help.

Dr. Wahler declared the injured worker would eventually heal. He'd suffered a blow to the head and a broken leg that would mend over time, but the doctor ordered that Jonas be transported to a hospital in Savannah for further treatment of the injuries. He also suggested someone accompany the young man to the hospital.

Since work had all but come to a standstill, Mr. Morley announced that he would accompany the young man as far as Savannah and then return home to tend to his investment business. “Get out there and locate that Blue Lightning fellow. I'll expect to hear as soon as work has commenced at full force,” he'd told Marshall before he boarded the launch.

Marshall hadn't needed the instruction. The accident had reinforced the workers' opinion that the curse was real. Wages or not, they wouldn't return to work until the curse had been lifted. Marshall had no choice: He had to locate Ole Blue Lightning.