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Authors: Tracie Peterson,Judith Miller

BOOK: To Honor and Trust
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She'd been reading for a short time when she glanced up to see Archie returning. She pushed herself up a bit to see if she could spot Thomas, but he was nowhere in sight. Fear gripped her as she continued to scan the area for any sign of the boy. “Where is Thomas?”

Archie pointed toward the beach. “No need for alarm. He's examining the turtle nests and doing quite fine. There's nothing to harm him.” He grinned as he stopped beside the wagon. “I told him I thought I should come back and make certain that you're all right.”

“I'm fine.”

He hoisted himself into the buggy beside her. “I couldn't agree more. As far as I'm concerned, you're the most handsome woman on all of Bridal Veil Island. I know we got off
to a bad start, but I truly am a gentleman. I'd like to court you properly, if you'll agree. I'd be more than pleased to show you the beach in the moonlight.”

“How many times must I tell you that your forward behavior is unwelcome?”

“I'm not so sure you mean that.” He leaned toward her and chuckled when she pushed him away.

Her heart hammered and bile rose in her throat. She needed to keep her wits about her. Lifting her hand to strike him, she stopped short when she heard someone whistling a familiar tune.

“Thomas is coming. Get away from me.”

“What are you doing back so soon, Thomas?” Archie jumped down from the buggy.

“I started feeling sick to my stomach. Is it okay if we go home, Miss Callie?”

Callie nodded and welcomed him into the carriage. God had answered her prayers. Never before had she been thankful for an ill child.

Chapter 14

A loud knock startled Wesley. His stomach knotted at the sound. Few people visited his room, especially so early in the morning. Yesterday his mother had complained of not feeling well, and concern for her mounted as he hurried across the room. He swung open the door, surprised to see his father, a frown on his face.

Gesturing toward the sitting area, his father said, “We need to talk.” He strode across the room and dropped into one of the brocade-covered chairs. “I see you're dressed for another day at the golf course.” He shook his head. “I hope you're not planning on wearing that garb into the dining room.”

Wes looked down at his clothing. “There's nothing inappropriate about what I'm wearing. Many of the men wear tennis or golf clothes into the dining room. I've even seen a few come in their hunting attire.” He chuckled. “I don't think it will hurt their digestion.”

“I'm not concerned about their digestion. It's more a matter of how a person is perceived, Wesley. People judge such things all the time.” He brushed his hand down the front of his jacket. “With the expansion of the mills, I've been required to take
out substantial loans. It would be beneficial to Townsend Mills and to our family if we could entice some of the men here to invest in the mills. Having a son who consistently appears to have nothing better to do with his time than play golf doesn't breed confidence or build a desire to invest in our company. I've told them this is a working vacation for the men in our family, but your attire tells them the opposite.”

“I'm baffled by what you've told me, Father. I haven't agreed to come on with the mills, so you shouldn't have given anyone that idea.” His mind whirled at the possibility. Was that truly how these powerful men conducted business? Surely not! Then again, perhaps they did. He really had no idea how such choices were made. His business knowledge would fit into one of his mother's sterling thimbles.

“I don't mean to sound disrespectful, Father, but I truly do not understand how my golf attire could adversely influence any possible business investors. You should advise those men that I'm not involved in the business. That should set their minds at ease.”

“Quite the contrary.” His father sighed. “If I attempt to explain a son who is uncertain about whether or not he wants to enter the family business, it will only give rise to further concern. As for explaining your past—well, that would be entirely another story.”

“You can state the truth in a simple manner. Tell them I have given up the practice of medicine and am using the winter months to make some decisions about my future. They may then draw their own conclusions.” Wes sat down in a chair opposite his father.

“I don't think you understand the gravity of this matter, Wesley. If I don't find several investors, it could create deep
financial concerns for the family. We do need to impress them. And let's not forget that telling investors that I have a son who chose to become a doctor will not impress them. The fact that you've left the profession will hold more sway with those men.”

“I'm sure they share your ideas on the medical profession, Father. And I heard enough about that when I went off to school. I think we'll have to agree to disagree on the subject. While doctors don't make much money, they do reap the benefit of helping others.” Wes leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. “It grieves me to know that you've taken such a financial risk, Father, and I do want you to find the investors you need, but—”

“But it doesn't grieve you enough to do your part and join me in the business. These men want a definitive plan regarding operations, and I can't give them one at this point because my son won't make a decision to manage the new mill.”

Wesley didn't want to argue with his father, but he simply couldn't give him the answer he wanted to hear. Not yet.

His father sighed. “Would you at least get out of those golfing togs and attend some meetings with me over the next few days?”

“I'm afraid that won't be possible, Father. I won't have time for meetings.”

His father's deep frown returned. “And why is that?”

“I've accepted the position as golf pro for the season.”

His father jumped to his feet as though he'd been jabbed with a hot poker. “You must be joking. I'll not have any son of mine working as a hired hand at a resort. I don't need additional embarrassment.”

His father's words reopened wounds that had barely begun to heal. He'd heard that same accusation when he'd departed
for medical school and later when he'd returned from Texas. Why must his father believe that Wesley's every decision was made to humiliate the family?

“Please sit down, Father.” He waited until the older man reclaimed his chair. “I accepted the position as golf pro because the vacancy was creating a problem for the resort and because I was qualified. Besides, I knew it would help to fill my days with something I enjoy.”

His father tugged on his vest. “It is beyond unseemly that my son is among the hired help on this island. I insist you quit immediately.”

“I won't quit, Father, but if it eases your feelings about it, I'm not being paid. I volunteered to take the position because it would help the club. Perhaps your business friends would be more accepting if they knew your son was merely stepping in to help the resort maintain the level of sporting instruction they've come to expect at Bridal Veil. Without a golf pro, there would be no instructor to help golfers improve their game, and it would mean the annual tournament would not be recognized.” Wesley leaned a bit closer. “I'm certain some of those business acquaintances of yours play golf.”

His father shrugged. “I really don't know. Some of them hunt, but—”

“More and more wealthy men have begun to golf, Father. I'm sure Mr. Nusbaum could confirm that fact. And from personal knowledge, I can tell you that there is a great deal of business conducted on the links nowadays.” Wesley leaned back in his chair. “You might even want to consider taking up the game, Father.”

“Richard says the racetrack is where he makes his contacts, you say the golf course, and Daniel thinks it's the hunting
lodge. I still prefer doing business after dinner with a glass of brandy and a good cigar.”

Wes glanced at the clock. He didn't want to be late to the golf course, yet his father didn't seem to be in any rush to leave. Instead, he leaned back and appeared as though he might be settling in for a lengthy stay.

“I told your mother I was not leaving this room until we had matters settled, and I intend to keep my word. So you might as well quit looking at the clock.”

“Exactly what matters, Father? I need to be at the links in less than an hour.”

“Then we'll have a message delivered that you'll be late. Unless we're able to quickly come to a meeting of the minds. Since you pretend to be unclear about what I plan to accomplish, let me make it very clear. First, before we leave this island, I want your word that if you have not decided upon some other future plans where you will earn a living, you will come to work for the textile business.”

“I don't—”

“Let me finish, and then you can have your say. Second, you need to be making a concentrated effort to find a suitable wife. If you don't want to go through the selection process on your own, I know your mother is eager to help. We would, of course, like the young woman to be someone who would be, shall we say, an advantageous choice for the family.”

Wesley bit his tongue, but if his father continued down this path, he would soon interrupt. In fact, he might walk out of the room.

“I don't find this third point as pressing, but your mother would be most appreciative if you would at least make an appearance at some of the social functions.” He cleared his
throat. “And if you are to find a wife, there is no better place than Bridal Veil. Your mother and I have met any number of eligible young ladies who clearly meet our requirements.”

Wesley choked. “Your requirements? And were these same requirements placed upon my brothers and sister? Was Richard Kennebec your first choice for Helena? If I recall, Mother was aghast when Charles declared he planned to marry Anna. Didn't Mother weep for days over his choice, saying her family didn't meet proper social standards for a Townsend?” He arched his brows. “Yet those marriages both took place without interference by you or Mother.”

“That's true enough, but there was no choice with Charles. You're well aware they secretly married and didn't tell us until months had passed. I still disdain what he did, but the past is past. And it is true Richard has developed a bit of a gambling problem, but he makes excellent contacts, and I believe he's devoted to Helena.”

From what Wesley had heard and seen, Richard was far more devoted to racehorses than to his family or the textile business, but his father wasn't interested in discussing his siblings or brother-in-law.

“I have been giving my future plans a great deal of prayer as well as a great deal of thought. I have some ideas, but I am waiting to see what God might reveal to me over these next few months.”

His father arched a brow. “Perhaps if you'd confide some details about the possibilities you're considering, it would help me understand.”

Wes knew it wouldn't help, but if he was going to get to the golf course, he had little choice. “I'm considering the possibility of using my medical degree in the research field. You know
I've always loved botany, and while in New York I helped in the laboratory on a limited basis. I found the work fascinating, I could use my education, and I wouldn't have to deal directly with patients. My other thought would be to use my love of botany to find work doing some sort of advanced landscape architecture. I've checked into it, and more professionals are needed.” He leaned back. “Or there's always golf.” He hoped his father had heard the lighthearted tone in his final words.

His father swiped his palm across his forehead. “I'd like you to add work at the textile mills to that list of considerations, Wesley. You should remember that God helps those who help themselves, and it's time you started helping yourself.” His father stared into the distance for a moment. “If you'll give me your word that you'll have a definite plan by the time we leave here, I won't interfere with the golf situation you've arranged for yourself. Properly explained, I think guests will agree that the donation of both your time and ability is quite generous.”

“I don't want to be badgered into finding a wife. I will not agree to have you and Mother seeking out women that please you. I know where that will lead.” Wes disliked agreeing to any part of his father's ultimatum, but this conversation would never end unless he made some concessions.

“Hopefully it would lead you down the aisle.”

“Down the aisle with a daughter of some investor you hope to finagle into signing on with the mills.”

“It's as easy to fall in love with the daughter of an investor as it is to fall in love with the daughter of a poor man.”

“I've said that I'm hopeful I'll have a decision about my future by winter's end, but we both know I'm not suited for a position with the family business. Once I have made my decision, I'll let you and Mother know.” He paused and inhaled.
“As time permits, I will attend a few of the social functions to please Mother. I do not want either of you making arrangements for me to escort anyone to the events. If you do, you'll be sorely disappointed, and quite embarrassed. I know you don't want that.”

His father stood and brushed imaginary lint from his lapel. “I cannot say I am pleased by the outcome of this conversation, Wesley.”

“Neither am I, Father. However, I think I've heard it said that when neither party is happy over the outcome, it has been a rather fair negotiation. And since we are discussing my future, I'm sure you didn't expect me to submit to your every request.”

For the first time, his father smiled. “You wouldn't be a Townsend if you did.”

At the moment, Wes would have preferred to have been anyone but a Townsend. In fact, he envied men like his old school chum Andrew Hart. Men who had come from nothing and had made their own way in the world. Andrew's family had been proud to have a son who'd become a doctor. A brief visit in Andrew's home several years ago had revealed a great deal to Wesley. Andrew's family cared little about the material things of life. They found pleasure in helping others and living their beliefs. It was on his visit to Andrew's home that Wes had drawn closer to the Lord. After seeing the way they lived and observing their faith, he wanted the same thing for himself. They were a family who lived with peace and contentment—something he'd never observed within his own family.

“You need only ask,” Andrew's father had told him. “God is willing to pour out His blessings and show you the way to a happier life if you but ask.”

Wesley had asked God to give him all of those things. In
truth, he couldn't say he'd found the same peace and contentment, but he continued to ask and search and pray that God would show him what he was to do with his life. Now he must pray God would answer on the timetable issued by Howard Townsend. He chuckled at the thought and wondered if God was laughing, as well.

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