To Have and To Hold (4 page)

“I don't believe I've ever tasted caramel cake, but I'm always pleased to try a new dessert.” He did his best to smile when Aunt Thora plunked her tray on the table.

“How could a man live to be your age and never eat caramel cake? I never heard the like!” Thora turned on her heel and stomped out of the room. “Yankees!”

Audrey's father shook his head. “Thora's a good woman, but she's still unwilling to accept the outcome of the war. She continues to harbor a strong dislike for Northerners.”

Mr. Morley chuckled. “After our encounter out front, I assumed we wouldn't become immediate friends.” He tasted a bite of the cake. “This is excellent. Perhaps you could send the recipe to Mattie. I'm sure the children would enjoy it.”

“I'll send it the next time I write.” Audrey poured coffee into his cup. “You mentioned investing in Jekyl Island. I'm excited to hear you'll be spending part of the year nearby.”

“I haven't thrown in with the men involved in the proposal. I spoke with several of them when I was last in Chicago—Marshall Field and Wirt Dexter both encouraged me to seek membership, but a few days later I was contacted by Thaddeus Baker, an investor from Syracuse who was visiting in Pittsburgh. He, too, had been asked to join the investors forming the club on Jekyl Island, but his wife wasn't in favor.” Mr. Morley tipped his head to the side and glanced at my father. “You know how women can be when it comes to hunting and fishing and less than opulent living conditions. Most don't find it appealing. Mrs. Baker thought wives would be much more interested in spending their winters where the accommodations were more luxurious than those being planned for, where there were more options for entertainment, and where individual accommodations would be available at the outset. As I expected, my wife agreed with Mrs. Baker's assessment.”

Audrey's earlier excitement plummeted. So she wouldn't have an opportunity to visit with Mattie after all. Still, Audrey didn't understand why her former employer had traveled to Georgia if he didn't intend to join the group. “Did you hope to change Mrs. Morley's decision after visiting?”

“Not at all. As it turns out, I've helped to gather another group of men, and we have formed our own organization. An excellent group of investors—and after one concession, I was even able to convince Thaddeus Baker to join us. Our group has made almost as much progress as the Jekyl group. However, we have managed to keep our activities less public—by choice, of course. We have a few details that need to be completed, and then we'll make a public announcement.”

Her father's brow furrowed. “So you're going to set up some sort of resort on another nearby island?”

“Indeed. I hope you will be pleased to learn that our group has purchased Bridal Veil Island from the heirs of Mrs. Lofton. Except for your home and the twenty acres you still own, our group now holds title to the entire island.” Mr. Morley finished the last bite of his cake and picked up his coffee cup. “That's the reason for my visit.”

“You've purchased Bridal Veil from the Loftons? When Mr. and Mrs. Lofton purchased most of the island, they assured my mother that their heirs would never sell the land.” Her father dropped back in his chair, his eyes reflecting disbelief.

Audrey watched her father's look change from one of disbelief to disappointment and knew what he must be thinking. Her grandmother had been careful in her choice of buyer when she'd been forced to sell most of the island. She'd hoped to avoid anyone ever destroying the natural beauty of Bridal Veil. Yet, in spite of her caution, it seemed Grandmother had been unable to protect her beloved island forever.

Her father rubbed his jaw. “So the Lofton heirs have decided money is more important than the land their parents vowed to protect. I'm disappointed.”

“I believe several of the Lofton children came upon hard times and decided selling was their only option. And that's what brings me here, Boyd. Our group would like to offer to purchase Bridal Fair and your remaining twenty acres of land so that we may have use of the entire island.”

“No!” Her father's response exploded from his lips like one of Aunt Thora's shotgun blasts.

Mr. Morley recoiled at the abrupt reaction. “I didn't mean to offend in any way. It's just that the other investors asked that I come and speak with you, since we are already acquainted. They're willing to pay a substantial price, although they know the property is delinquent on tax payments.”

“I'm not willing to sell to them. I don't want the entire island overrun and destroyed.”

“But that's not our intent. We've hired a landscape architect who will help us maintain the natural beauty of the island, and we're in the process of employing a gamekeeper who will work with us to preserve all of the wildlife. Some members will want to hunt, of course, but we don't intend for that aspect to be the primary focus of our club. I think you'd find all of the men are quite respectful of nature.”

“I just can't do it, Mr. Morley. The taxes are a genuine concern, and if I can't find some way to pay them, then I guess you and your friends can purchase the land at the tax sale. But I don't think my mother would have ever agreed to such an arrangement.”

“But your mother is dead, isn't she?”

“Yes. But I still feel obligated to honor her wishes regarding this island. At least the small portion that still remains in the family.”

Mr. Morley arched forward and rested his arms across his legs. “Then let me loan you the money to pay the taxes. It's the least I can do.”

“I don't want charity, and you don't owe me anything, Mr. Morley. I appreciate your kindness, but I'll figure out a way to pay the taxes on my own.”

After he'd studied her father for a moment, Mr. Morley folded his hands together. “Then what about taking a job working as the primary foreman on our project? You're an excellent choice, and my partners have already approved moving forward to hire you.” Their visitor straightened and awaited her father's response with an expectant gaze.

Her father shook his head with a slow determination. “I do thank you, but I'm going to have to reject your offer.”

Audrey couldn't believe her ears. Her father had vowed to love this land more than life itself. He'd been determined to return to the place where he'd been born. And now, threatened with the loss of his family home, he refused a loan and then refused to take a job that suited him perfectly. Granted, his health had been unstable since shortly before they'd moved south, but supervising the project wouldn't be the same as performing manual labor. How could he so offhandedly refuse the help Mr. Morley offered?

Perhaps her father thought Mr. Morley's offers were made out of continuing feelings of thanks or obligation. All of their lives had intertwined three years ago, when Mr. Morley had been seeking an innovative and accomplished contractor to expand his mansion in Pittsburgh. A man who always aspired to being different and unique, Mr. Morley didn't want someone who would disagree with his plans—he wanted someone who would make his plans happen.

After searching for months, he had mentioned his difficulty in Audrey's presence. Her father had sworn off the bottle a year earlier and hadn't taken a drink since then. She knew he would be a perfect fit for the job, yet she'd waited a full month before mentioning his name to Mr. Morley. Even then, she made certain her father's future employment wouldn't be linked to her own. She couldn't afford to lose her job, nor did she have any desire to seek employment elsewhere. She'd been happy with the Morleys and wanted to remain even if things didn't work out with her father.

As it turned out, her father's work far exceeded Mr. Morley's expectations, and his words of praise to his wealthy friends brought any number of offers to her father. But it hadn't been her father's work that had won Mr. Morley's lasting allegiance. Rather, it had been the life of young Thomas Morley. The boy had climbed out a window and scaled the steep roof. Once he'd ascended to a ledge surrounding a turret on the west side of the house, Thomas had panicked, lost his footing, and slipped to a decorative projection several feet below. Had her father not interceded, the boy would have fallen to his death. Instead, his injuries had consisted of a broken arm and a few scrapes. After the Morleys' son had completely recovered from the incident, Mr. Morley had come to their home and promised to help her father if ever the need arose.

“I think you should reconsider, Boyd. This land obviously means a lot to you, and I don't want you to lose it.” Mr. Morley's words rang with sincerity.

Still, her father shook his head. “No. I need to find my own way out of this problem. I don't want charity from you or anyone else.”

Though Audrey sensed Mr. Morley's frustration, he remained calm. “Why don't we take a walk, Boyd? I have a proposition for you that I don't think you'll refuse.”

Her father's reluctance was obvious, but he agreed to listen, and for that Audrey was grateful. “You two enjoy your visit, and I'll see to supper. We'd be pleased to have you join us, Mr. Morley.”

“I'd be pleased to join you, if . . .” His acceptance hung in the air as he glanced toward the doorway, clearly uncertain if Aunt Thora would object to the idea.

“I don't think Aunt Thora will join us. Sometimes she takes her meals in her room.”

He exhaled with obvious relief. “In that case, I'd be pleased to accept your invitation.”

Once the men departed, Audrey gathered the tray and carried it to the kitchen, where Thora sat perched on a stool near the window. The older woman glanced over her shoulder when Audrey entered the room. “Where the two of them going?” Thora asked, indicating the two men, who were strolling toward the acreage at the rear of the house.

“To have a private talk. Mr. Morley is speaking to Father about the possible purchase of the house and acreage, and perhaps a position as foreman of a project here on the island.”

Thora came off the stool in a startling leap, her mouth gaping as she approached the table. “You don't mean it!” She grasped Audrey's arm between her gnarly fingers. “Boyd wouldn't do such a thing. I know he loves this land every bit as much as his mother ever did. And if he sells this place, where will I go? Tell me he's gonna send that fella packing.”

The old woman's fingers dug deeper into Audrey's arm, and she gently unclasped the woman's hold. “It's going to work out fine. There's no need for worry.”

Aunt Thora's eyes clouded with tears. “That's easy to say when you're young and have the rest of your life spread before you. But I'm old. All my friends are gone.”

Audrey patted the old woman's hand. “No matter what happens, you will always have a home with us.”

A tear trickled down Thora's weathered face. “So many dear ones lost in the war, and now the Yankees are taking over the island. I've lived too long and seen too much. It's time for me to go home to the Lord.” She dropped to a nearby chair and wiped her tears with the corner of her apron. “I do believe I feel one of my spells coming over me, Audrey.”

When life didn't work quite the way Aunt Thora wanted, she had spells that required a long rest. Audrey didn't know if they were truly spells or simply Aunt Thora's way of coping with life. Either way, Aunt Thora wouldn't be joining them for supper that evening.

Chapter 4

After completing supper preparations, Audrey arranged a tray for Aunt Thora and carried it to her room. The old woman sat hunched forward reading her Bible by the waning light filtering through the filmy bedroom curtains.

“I thought you were going to rest, Aunt Thora.”

The old woman nodded. “I did, and now I'm all rested up.” She waved toward a table not far from her chair. “Just put it there.” She closed her Bible and gave the tray a fleeting glance. “I thought I'd read the Bible and see if the good Lord would show me some answers. I just can't figure out what's goin' on in this world anymore. One minute life is running smooth as can be, and the next the Yankees are marching into the South and destroying everything in sight. And for years after, there's nothing but the devastation they left behind.” She reached up and scratched her head. “So now life has settled down a little and what happens? The Yankees come back down here and start buyin' up all our land. There's something wrong with that, Audrey.”

Audrey carried the table closer to the chair. “Did you find any answers in your reading?”

“None that suit me, but I plan to keep looking.”

Audrey chuckled. Knowing Aunt Thora, she'd keep looking until she found a verse or two that would support her views, even if she had to twist them around a bit. “One day soon you're going to have to accept the fact that the war is over, that Northerners are not terrible people, and that God loves us all.”

“I know God loves us all, but I don't share His opinion on that particular fact.” She shook her head, picked up the napkin from her tray, and clutched it in one hand. “I know your daddy went north to earn a living and save Bridal Veil after the war, but after all he did to help the South during the war, I wouldn't think he'd want to keep company with Yankees unless he had to.”

Audrey had heard the stories of her father's heroic efforts during the war. He hadn't served in a regular capacity. Instead, he'd been recruited to help smuggle goods to the Southern army, and the island proved the perfect location. With its irregular shoreline and numerous coves, boats could sneak in under cover of darkness undetected, offload needed supplies, and place them under her father's supervision for distribution. The danger had been great, but her father had used exceeding care, and their family had never been threatened. In fact, until she was an adult, Audrey hadn't known her father had participated in the covert activity. Even then, it had been difficult to believe, for he'd never been away from home for any length of time during the war.

Thora peered at the dinner tray. “You feed him fine food like this and he'll never leave. You should have fixed him some broiled robin on toast. That would have set his Yankee stomach to churning.” She snapped the napkin and tucked it into the waistband of her brown serge skirt. “That's all some of our men had to eat while they were fighting those Yankees. And considered themselves blessed to have even a robin or woodpecker to eat.”

“Now, Aunt Thora, it's not my objective to make Mr. Morley ill. He and his family were exceedingly kind to me. And to Father.” At the familiar creak of the front door, Audrey glanced toward the hallway. “The men have returned. I'll come back for your tray after we've finished supper. No need to tire yourself coming downstairs.”

The woman grinned. “You're not fooling me one smidgen. You don't want me around your Yankee friend. Well, you can set your mind at ease. I won't be back downstairs until he's gone.”

Audrey clenched her jaw. Thora was set in her ways, and any further attempt to win her over would only meet with failure. Besides, Audrey needed to get back to the kitchen. Her father and Mr. Morley had been gone longer than she'd expected, and she worried the chicken would now be dry and the rice sticky. Lifting her skirts, she hurried downstairs to greet them.

“I'm pleased you've returned. I thought you'd be back a half hour ago.”

“My apologies, Audrey. It is completely my fault. I needed more time than expected to plead my case to your father. He can be a difficult man to convince.” Mr. Morley grinned. “But I suppose you already know that.”

“I've experienced some of that behavior on several occasions.” She smiled in return. “Once you've washed up, we can sit down to supper.”

While the men hurried off to do her bidding, Audrey scurried back to the kitchen and dished up the meal. If she'd known Mr. Morley would be there, she would have had Old Sam deliver fresh seafood. Throughout the years, Sam had steered his boat by the populated islands to see if the daily catch was desired for the following day. If Audrey wanted him to stop, she tied a big blue scarf to a pole on their dock. The next afternoon, the fish, turtle, crab, or other catch would be waiting on the dock, along with a note telling her how much money to leave the following morning. The system worked beautifully. But only if one had advance notice of intended company. In cases of extreme emergency, a red flag would be tied to the pole. Old Sam knew to keep a sharp eye for flags of any color, but especially the red one.

Tonight, Mr. Morley would have to settle for fried chicken, and she hoped he wouldn't mind the simple fare. Before she could give the menu further thought, the men returned.

Mr. Morley tipped his head back and sniffed. “Something smells wonderful.”

Audrey offered a fleeting smile. “It won't compare to the food you're accustomed to eating at Temberly.”

The Morleys had christened their Pittsburgh home
Temberly
shortly after they'd moved into the house. Mrs. Morley had insisted the edifice needed to be named something special and had chosen her grandmother's maiden name for the estate. Though Mattie thought naming a home ridiculous, Audrey thought it quite fitting. Mattie attributed Audrey's accord to her Southern childhood, where she'd become accustomed to the plantation homes bearing regal names. Whether it was located in the North or the South, Audrey believed a palatial home surrounded by beautiful acreage of well-manicured landscape deserved a name.

After helping Audrey with her chair, Mr. Morley sat down at the table opposite her father. “Not every meal need be served in luxurious surroundings to be considered fine fare.”

Audrey didn't intend to apologize further. They didn't have servants to fill the bowls or keep the water glasses filled to the brim, but they did offer hospitality. And she was a good cook. She'd never utter such a thing herself, for it would be far too boastful. But she'd received enough compliments to instill her with an air of confidence in the kitchen.

Her father followed their normal custom and prayed before they passed the bowls and platters of food. Audrey didn't miss his words of thanks to God for providing a means to pay their taxes. By the time he finished the prayer, she thought she might explode of curiosity.

Instead of explaining, her father inquired about the construction he'd completed on the Morley home. “I just wondered how it worked out for you. I know you and your wife spent a great deal of time deciding exactly how the addition would best meet the needs of your family. I've been curious if after living in it for a while, you would change anything.”

Audrey tapped her foot beneath the table and hoped Mr. Morley's response would be brief. If the two men had come upon some way to save the family home on Bridal Veil Island, Audrey wanted to know. Her mind raced while the men's talk about the Morleys' adjustment to the additional space added to Temberly swirled around her. She couldn't imagine what possible proposal Mr. Morley could make that would change her father's mind. After all, he'd quickly dismissed the idea of selling Bridal Fair and the twenty acres that surrounded the house, and he'd turned down with surprising haste the job offer of supervisor for the new project—something she hoped to discuss with him later.

Certainly Father's health wasn't the best right now, but she was convinced that with time, it would improve. Knowing there would be pressure from the investors and understanding the need to please a group of wealthy gentlemen rather than one property owner may have been the cause for her father's refusal. Still, they were in need of help if they were going to save Bridal Fair. And through the years, he'd learned how to deal with demanding clients, except for the two times he'd been drinking on the job.

On those occasions, the consequences had been swift and costly. After the second incident, her father had reserved his drinking to after working hours and on Sundays, when his friends would gather and spend the day drinking and acting as if they didn't have the sense God gave a goose. They'd met only one time at their home. It had been shortly after her mother's death, and Audrey had been shocked by the unseemly behavior of her father's friends and co-workers. When one of the men made an offensive comment to Audrey, that had been the end of that—and all future gatherings at the Cunningham home.

But even that incident hadn't been enough to keep her father away from the bottle. It wasn't until his best friend and fellow alcoholic, Wilbur Graham, died. Her father had relived that scene in the tavern over and over until he finally accepted that he wanted to seek a different life—a life that included forgiveness and God's grace. Since that time, he'd been a changed man—one she could depend upon, one who didn't shirk his duty, one who wanted the best for both of them. So what had Mr. Morley now proposed that had captured his interest?

“This is excellent chicken.” Mr. Morley pointed his fork at the bones that lay scattered on his plate.

Audrey reached for the platter. “Have another piece. There are only the three of us. I've already taken a plate to Thora.”

He patted his stomach. “I don't believe I could eat another bite.”

“Don't even consider such an idea. I'm sure Audrey has some special dessert waiting in the kitchen.” Her father's eyes shone with anticipation.

“I did prepare blackberry custard with hard sauce.” She glanced at Mr. Morley. “But if you're full, we can wait until later.”

Her father's smile disappeared. “Well, Mr. Morley is welcome to wait for his, but I'd like to have some now and some later, as well.”

“I might be able to make a spot for a small serving. Blackberry pudding sounds far too delightful to pass up.”

Audrey pushed away from the table and began to clear the plates. “Once I've cleared away the dishes, we can have our dessert in the solarium, but the two of you must promise that as soon as we sit down, you will tell me what decisions you came to this afternoon. Otherwise, I plan to withhold your custard.”

Her father chuckled. “I told you she'd be chomping at the bit to know what we decided. I'm surprised she didn't interrupt our dinner conversation.”

Audrey rested one hand on her hip. “There's no call to talk about me as if I'm not here, Father. And it took every ounce of control I could muster to remember my manners and refrain from changing the discussion.”

Her father picked up several plates. “Since you were such a dutiful hostess and daughter, I believe I should help you clear away these dishes. Especially since Thora isn't down here to help.”

Audrey shook her head and insisted the two men relax in the solarium while she cleared the table. She didn't take time to wash the dishes. Instead, she stacked them in the sink, prepared the dessert, and arranged the plates on a large serving tray.

The men jumped to their feet when she entered the room, and had she not been balancing the large tray, she would have motioned them to sit down. “No need to get up, gentlemen.” She glanced toward the windows of the solarium. “The view from this room is beautiful in the morning. We have a glorious scene of the sunrise each day. It's one of my favorite rooms in the house.”

“I can understand why,” Mr. Morley said as he accepted his custard. “This looks every bit as delicious as our supper.”

Audrey served her father before she settled into one of the cushioned wicker chairs. “Now then, who wants to begin? I'm eager to hear what transpired between the two of you.”

Mr. Morley motioned to her father. “I think it's best you explain, Boyd. Besides, I want to eat my dessert.”

Her father lifted a spoonful of custard to his mouth before he replied. “Mmm, this sure is good.”

“Thank you. Now, please tell me what's happened.” Audrey gestured for him to quit eating.

“Since Mr. Morley and his investor friends are going forward with their resort, they're going to need living quarters for the men who will come to Bridal Veil to construct the buildings.”

She nodded but assumed the workers would live on the mainland in Biscayne, where there were several boardinghouses and a small hotel. Granted, their workday would be governed by the boat schedule, but surely these wealthy men could arrange for one of the companies in Biscayne to haul the men back and forth on a schedule that suited their needs.