To Honor and Trust (12 page)

“I heard about the robbery, as well,” another woman Callie didn't recognize added. “My husband told me jewelry had been taken from one of the cottages.”

Grace Wilson waved a server away from their table and poured a cup of tea for Mrs. Albright. “Oh, dear me. That is terrible news. We've never had such problems in the past.” She placed the teapot on the table and passed the cream to Mrs. Albright. “I'm thankful we're staying here in the clubhouse, where there's less likelihood of anyone entering our rooms.”

Rose Barclay, the initial bearer of the news, elaborated about the items that had gone missing the night of the ball. “This kind of happening puts everyone on edge.”

Mrs. Albright glanced toward the puppet stage. “I do wonder if bringing all these outsiders onto the island is a good idea. I know the recreational director wants to provide different entertainment each season, but having strangers skulking about isn't a good thing.”

Mrs. Wainwright leaned forward and helped herself to a pastry. “I wouldn't say they're skulking about, Lydia. They're performing a puppet show. I doubt any of the performers who have been here would have enough time or opportunity to locate and enter the cottages.” Using the silver tongs, she placed the delicacy on her plate. “And I don't think this is the forum to discuss such a distasteful matter. I am certain the incidents are being investigated and will be resolved in no time.” Mrs. Wainwright's admonition brought an end to any further mention of the robbery.

When the puppet show ended, the children were permitted to examine and play with the puppets while Thomas inspected the stage and sketched several pages of drawings.

He handed the sketchbook to Callie. “What do you think?”

“Your drawings are wonderful, Thomas, but now we need to start toward home so we can all freshen up before dinner.”

Thomas tucked the sketchbook under his arm. “We could take the trail through the woods. It's faster than going around by the road.”

“You're always coming up with good ideas.” Her praise caused Thomas to blush and look away. “Why don't you take the lead? You're more familiar with this path than I am.”

The sun glistened through the limbs of the live oaks, and the fallen pods that blanketed the trail crunched beneath their feet as they continued onward. A branch cracked behind them and Callie whirled about. Her mouth turned dry, and she clenched her hands as a streak of white disappeared into the brush. The tree branches swayed in the breeze, and a bird flickered overhead. How silly of her. The streak of white had likely been nothing more than a bird roosting in the brush.

She'd nearly calmed her nerves when another noise sounded to the left. Her breathing turned shallow as she strained to listen. Was someone hiding in the woods and following them? Since reading of a child being kidnapped and held for ransom two years ago, she'd worried the same might happen to the Bridgeport children. In the past, her main concern had been when they'd traveled from place to place in the city—on Bridal Veil she'd believed they were more protected and safe from the outside world. Yet harm could come to the children anywhere.

Her heart pounded a rapid beat, and perspiration dotted her forehead. For the sake of the children, she must remain
calm, but if someone was out there, she wanted to know. She developed a rhythm of looking to the right and to the left and then glancing over her shoulder.

Fear took hold and prickled the hair on the nape of her neck. As she twisted to look over her shoulder, her foot lodged beneath a tree root. Pain shot through her ankle, and she dropped to the ground, her arms and legs flailing helter-skelter.

Thomas rushed to her side and grasped her arm as she attempted to stand. “Are you injured, Miss Callie?”

“I think I twisted my ankle.” Even as she spoke, she could feel the swelling in her shoe, but she had to get the children safely home. “Let me see if I can walk.” She allowed Thomas to help her to her feet, but when she attempted to take a step, she grimaced in pain. “I don't think I can do it, Thomas.”

He straightened his shoulders. “I can run for help. Shall I take the girls with me?”

The girls would slow him down. If someone was after them, he'd be more vulnerable with them along. Yet how much protection could she offer if someone attempted to take the girls from her? She'd fight to the death for them—that much she knew. She couldn't linger over her decision.

“Run for help, Thomas. I'll keep the girls with me. And if anyone attempts to stop you, keep running. Don't stop for anyone, do you understand?”

He appeared confused but nodded his head. “I'll be fine, Miss Callie, and I'll be back in no time.”

The boy took off like a runner sprinting for the finish line. She motioned to the girls to sit down beside her. “We can use this time to start our story for the puppet show.”

While the girls talked in soft voices about a wicked witch
who would be mean to a fairy princess, Callie listened to every swishing bush, every rustling leaf, and every crackling branch.

With every sound, she twisted in one direction and then another until Daisy stood and placed her tiny hands on Callie's cheeks. “Are you listening to our story, Miss Callie?”

“Yes, I'm listening, but I'm also watching for Thomas to return.” Her heart was beating so loud within her chest that she marveled the child didn't hear it.

Soon she heard pounding footsteps, and Thomas appeared with the golf instructor. “Look who I found. I told Mr. Wes what happened, and he said he would come and help.”

Wes tipped his hat and stooped down in front of her. “Is your ankle sprained or broken?”

“I'm sure it's a sprain.”

“Maybe I should take a look, just in case.”

“No.” Heat infused her face. “That's not necessary.”

“Well, Thomas tells me you're unable to walk, so I think there's nothing left to do but this.” In one swift motion, he encircled her body and lifted her into his arms.

“Mr. Wes!” She wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively. “I do appreciate your willingness to help, but I think if you would simply lend support, maybe I could walk.”

He shook his head. “Nonsense. You're light as a feather, and it's my pleasure to help a damsel in distress.”

There was something about this man that created a sense of peace within her, and she longed to simply place her head on his shoulder and enjoy these moments. The fear she'd felt for the last half hour vanished in Wes's presence. He was the kind of man who made you believe you'd always be honored and cherished.

This was the kind of man she thought she'd found in Matthew.
She stiffened at the remembrance and reminded herself that trusting a man would only lead to pain and disappointment.

“Here we are.” With a broad smile, Wes gently lowered her into a chair on the front porch while Thomas and the girls rushed inside to find their mother.

“Thank you so much for your help. I don't know what we would have done if Thomas hadn't come upon you. I don't think Maude or Mrs. Bridgeport could have carried me.”

Wes chuckled. “It was my pleasure, and I hope you'll soon be up and about. If you'll excuse me, I need to return to the links to give a golf lesson.” He started toward the front steps. “Be sure to put some ice on your ankle.”

“Wait!”

He turned. “Yes?”

“Where did Thomas find you?”

“I was in the woods. You recall I enjoy botany.”

She nodded and waved good-bye, but a weight settled in her stomach. Had Wes been the one following them in the woods? And if so, why? The thought caused a shiver to course down her spine.

Could not even a man like Wes be trusted?

For two days, Wesley had attempted to come up with a way to contact Callie—a way where he wouldn't need to reveal his true identity. Returning to the cottage meant he might be seen by Mr. or Mrs. Bridgeport. And though he'd not yet been introduced to the couple, it would be impossible to avoid making their acquaintance at some social function in the near future. Since he didn't want Callie to view him as a socially elite sort of fellow, he hadn't reached a point where he wanted to take a chance on being recognized.

His intent was not to lie or trick her, but he wanted more time to get to know her without any pretenses—without her thinking of him as a member of the social set. He had enjoyed their comfortable conversations and hoped for more time with her before disclosing that in addition to acting as the golf pro he was a guest at the clubhouse.

Wandering along a path near the common gardens, Wesley stopped to admire some of the flowers. He glanced up when one of the gardeners approached and gestured toward the array. “There are more varieties in the greenhouse. Guests are welcome to pick a bouquet any time they'd like.”

The gardener had solved his problem: He'd pick a bouquet of flowers and have them delivered to Callie. After the gardener handed him a pair of shears, Wesley selected a variety of flowers he thought she'd enjoy. He realized she might not be able to swing a golf club for another week or so, but he hoped she'd be able to accompany Thomas for his next lesson.

He stepped into the greenhouse, amazed at the wide selection of flowers. The sweet scents of the mingling blooms greeted him. He turned to the gardener, who remained nearby to answer questions or meet any request. “You have an astonishing array from which to select. And all of them are beautiful.”

“Only the best for the guests of Bridal Veil Island.” The old man gave him a lopsided grin. “That's our motto here at the greenhouse. We try to keep everyone happy.”

“From what I see around here, I doubt anyone could complain.”

“To tell you the truth, I don't think we've ever made it through a season without a few complaints, but we keep trying.” He chuckled. “Never can tell, this year may be the one.”

Wes studied his bouquet for a minute. “I don't see how I can improve upon this any further, do you?”

The gardener took a closer look, stepped across the greenhouse, and returned with several clippings from a cinnamon fern. “If you place these fronds around the outer edges of your bouquet, it may add to it a bit. See what you think.”

Wes nodded. “It does. Thank you for your help. If I write a note to go along with the bouquet, do you have someone who could deliver it for me?”

“We do. I need your name and where you're staying to log into my book, and I'll attach a card with the required information.”

Wes tightened his hold on the bouquet. “What information?”

“I need to put the name and address of the person you're sending it to, and I have to include your name and address on the card, as well. Something new they started a couple years ago.”

“Why?”

“I don't make the rules, mister. I just do what I'm told.” He reached for the flowers, but when Wes didn't hand them over, the old man frowned. “You want them delivered or not?”

Wes shook his head. “On second thought, I think the young lady would be pleased to have me deliver them in person.”

The gardener tucked the shears into a sheath on his belt. “Probably right. I hope she likes them.”

Wes held them up a few inches as he turned to leave. “I'm sure she will.”

“Come back anytime.”

Wes strode away and didn't stop until he was sure the gardener couldn't see him. He stared at the bouquet. He wasn't going to personally deliver the flowers, and he couldn't let anything so pretty go to waste. Unable to come up with another plan, he turned toward the clubhouse. His mother would appreciate the flowers.

He'd gone only a short distance when he heard someone call his name and a bicycle wheeled up beside him. “Thomas! What are you doing over this way?”

“I talked Mother into letting me ride my bicycle down to the river for a while. Since Miss Callie still isn't walking very well, Mother said she'd let me go by myself this once, but I have to be back on time, or she'll never let me go again.” He glanced toward the sky. “Do you know what time it is?”

Wes pulled his watch from his pocket. “Fifteen past three.”

The boy sighed. “I've got fifteen minutes before I'm late,
but I can make it back in ten if I pedal fast.” He lifted his foot onto the pedal.

“Wait a minute, Thomas.” Wes extended the bouquet toward the boy. “Do you think you could carry these flowers and still manage your bike?”

Thomas straightened his shoulders. “Sure! I can carry lots of things and still ride without any trouble.”

“Would you take them to Miss Callie and tell her that I hope she's feeling better and I look forward to seeing her at the golf course very soon?”

“I can, but why don't you come along and give them to her yourself? I'm sure she'd be pleased to see you. She was real sorry you took off so quick the other day. And my mother wanted to meet you.” He nodded his head toward the road. “Come with me.”

“I can't. I've got some other matters that I need to attend to right now, and I'd hate for these flowers to wilt before I can deliver them.”

“Okay. I'll take them, but I better get going or I'll be late.”

The boy wrapped his hand around the bouquet and sped away. At the rate he was pedaling, Thomas would make it home in far less than ten minutes.

Earlier in the afternoon, Callie had enlisted Maude's help. Together with the girls, the four of them had gathered on the front porch to create puppets. They were in the midst of cutting and sewing when Thomas, flowers in hand, rounded the front fence and skidded to a stop a few inches from the porch steps.

He held the bouquet aloft. “Look what I brought, Miss Callie. Get-well flowers from Mr. Wes.” After resting the bike
against the porch railing, he ran up the steps and presented her with the bouquet. “Mr. Wes said he hopes you're doing much better and that you can attend lessons next week.”

The words caused an unexpected tingle of excitement. She hadn't experienced such pleasure since receiving flowers from Matthew. She sniffed the bouquet.
Be careful. You still don't know if you can trust him any more than you could Matthew.

“That was most kind of him. The flowers are beautiful. Would you take them to the kitchen and ask Lula to put them in water, Thomas?”

Thomas took the flowers and headed for the door. “If Mother comes looking for me, I'll be out back working on the puppet stage.”

The moment Thomas entered the house, Maude tapped Callie's arm. “So you've got you a beau, have ya? I knew all that talk of not trusting a fella and going to Africa wouldn't last, once the right man came your way.”

Callie didn't want to discuss Wes with Maude or with anyone, for that matter. He was a nice man and she enjoyed his company, but she barely knew him. And she wasn't interested in a beau. But trying to alter Maude's opinion would likely result in failure. Better to change the subject than try to convince the nanny. Though she hadn't known Maude for long, Callie had already discovered the nanny seldom adjusted her opinion.

She tipped her head toward the older woman. “I haven't had an opportunity to mention this before, but when I took the children to the puppet show the other day, I heard talk of valuables being stolen from one of the cottages.”

Maude ceased her stitching. “Is that so? What kind of valuables did they say?”

“A diamond bracelet and a jeweled hair clasp, along with some other valuable pieces. I hope they find the culprit. It makes me uneasy to think there might be thieves roaming about.” She kept her voice low to prevent the children from hearing.

“I can't say as I'm too surprised.”

Callie dropped her sewing to her lap. “Why? Do you know something about the incident?”

“'Course not, but I doubt those jewels will ever be seen again. This resort is full of haves and have-nots. With the number of poor folks working as servants, I'd think there would be plenty of thievery.” Maude dipped her needle into the fabric and continued to embroider a bright red nose onto one of the puppets.

Callie frowned. “That hasn't been the case in the past. I think if any thefts had been reported, Mrs. Bridgeport would have mentioned it to me. Most of the servants and workers have been here for years. I'm sure the help is carefully scrutinized before being hired.”

“You may be right, but when folks get into dire circumstances, there's no telling what they'll do. The money from selling a few pieces of expensive jewelry would go a long way.” She hiked a shoulder. “'Course that's just one old woman's opinion.”

“You're not old, Maude. And you may be right about the jewels, but I hope not.”

A memory of the noises in the woods on their way home the other day flashed through her mind, and Callie shivered. Could that have been the thief? She shook her head. What a silly thought.

She pushed the idea from her mind, and when they'd
finished sewing, the two women went inside. Callie stopped in the hallway. “I believe I'll take some time and write to my parents while you see to the children, Maude.”

Callie hadn't expected to hear from her parents while at Bridal Veil. A letter had arrived shortly before their departure, and her parents knew she'd be gone for the winter. If her mother did write, she'd send her letters to Indianapolis for fear they might not reach Callie on the island. They had both learned that mail deliveries to and from Africa were not something one could count upon for swift or correct delivery.

Her letter wasn't particularly long. She told her parents about the children and the activities at Bridal Veil. She didn't mention her injury—they would only worry. And though she knew they wanted to hear she was planning to join them, Callie ended her letter by saying that she was still praying for God's direction and asked that they do the same. She decided against telling them about the job offer in Chicago, but she continued to weigh her options. She'd been happy teaching there, and during her time in Chicago, she'd become acquainted with Jane Addams and even taught English classes at Hull House several evenings a week. The experience had been gratifying, and with the expansion of Hull House, there would be an even greater need for teachers and volunteers. Wasn't that work as important as the work in Africa? Her decision would be much easier if God would whisper in her ear or perhaps drop a note from heaven.

She smiled at the idea as she signed her name and then reread what she'd written. The leisure pastimes at Bridal Veil likely sounded quite mundane to those who were serving God on another continent. Yet her parents' letters expressed interest in her pursuits with the Bridgeport family. Besides, her parents
had once enjoyed the same activities, and if she didn't write about such things, there would be nothing to fill her letters.

Day by day, Callie's ankle continued to heal, and so long as she used a cane, she was able to move about fairly well. She'd informed Mrs. Bridgeport she could once again accompany Thomas to his lessons. If his golf lesson had been scheduled for today rather than tennis, she would have been much happier. But since she wouldn't be able to take a tennis lesson, there would be no reason to worry about Archie.

Mr. Bridgeport had rented a wheeled chaise, though Callie wished he would have arranged for a carriage. She still thought it would be too great a task for Thomas to wheel her about, but he'd been practicing for several days and vowed he was up to the task.

She settled in the wicker seat. “It's going to be more difficult with me as your passenger, Thomas. I weigh more than your sisters.” He'd been pedaling his sisters during his practice sessions.