To Love and Cherish (24 page)

“That much appears obvious, but I don't understand.” Her voice trembled and she bit her quivering lip.

“Mr. Morley insisted that I personally take Victoria and John for their riding lessons. I tried to change his mind. I even gave him suggestions, but he said Mr. Polter insisted I be the one to take his children.”

“That makes no sense. How would he know anything about you?” She brushed her clammy hands down the front of her skirt. “You've been busy over at the golf course.”

Evan looked toward the main room of the lodge and then directed her down the porch steps. “I'd rather the Polters didn't overhear our conversation.” When they were a short distance from the porch, he took her hand. “Mr. Morley brought the entire family over to see where we're laying out the golf course. During the conversation, Victoria mentioned she had signed up for riding lessons.”

Melinda arched her brows.
“Victoria?”

“Miss Polter.” He shrugged. “She insisted I call her Victoria. She says
Miss Polter
is too formal.”

“Really? She didn't seem to mind when
I
addressed her as Miss Polter. So while she was at the golf course, she asked that you take her riding?”

“Sort of. Well, not exactly.” Evan sighed. “Mr. Morley was telling them about my different tasks. He mentioned that the investors depended on me for everything from keeping the game well stocked to giving riding lessons to overseeing construction of the racetrack—something like that. I don't recall his exact words.” Seeming to sense her displeasure, he squeezed her hand. “Anyway, as the conversation continued, Miss Polter said she'd like me to give her and her brother their riding lessons.” He inhaled a deep breath. “I agreed without asking when the lesson had been scheduled.”

Melinda's heart squeezed. She wanted to be understanding; she knew their jobs must come first. But try as she may, she couldn't set aside her disappointment. “Why didn't you explain that it was your afternoon off and you had plans that couldn't be changed?”

“I did, and I thought the matter had been settled. But later in the day, Mr. Morley came to see me. It seems Miss Polter insisted that I be the one to take her riding. Mr. Morley wants to make them happy. He's hoping Mr. Polter will invest in the island, and they are longtime friends. How could I refuse?”

A tear rolled down her cheek. The guests came first—all of the staff learned that lesson the minute they secured employment on Bridal Veil. Still, it didn't seem fair. With all the extra hours Evan had worked during the past months, Mr. Morley shouldn't have asked for even more.

She removed a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her cheek. “I suppose you'd better go back and take care of the guests. I'll see if Paul is still at the barn and ask him to drive me back to the clubhouse.”

“I'm truly sorry.” Evan leaned down and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you for being understanding, Melinda. Mr. Morley promised me an extra afternoon off next week.”

“We had best wait and see if he keeps his promise before we make any plans.” Head bowed, she turned and trudged toward the barn, her joy and excitement nothing more than a memory now.

Minutes later, she spotted Paul in the corral. At least she could be thankful he hadn't yet departed. Hastening her step, she waved and called his name. He exited the corral and trotted toward her. “Something wrong, ma'am?”

“My plans have changed, and I need a ride back to the clubhouse. Have you unhitched the buggy?”

“No.” He pointed to the barn. “It's around the side over there. If I get you settled in the buggy, would you mind waiting until I finish putting out feed for a couple of the animals in the barn?”

She shook her head. “That would be fine, but you go ahead with your chores. I don't need help getting into the buggy.” In truth, it didn't matter how long it took for the young man to complete his chores. She could wait until morning, if necessary, since she no longer had anything to do. As if to protest such a thought, her stomach rumbled a reminder that she hadn't eaten since that morning. She'd worked through her lunch so that she could have the extra time with Evan. That had proven to be a mistake.

Then again, if she'd arrived an hour later, he'd be gone for Victoria's riding lesson, and Melinda would have had no idea what happened. Why hadn't Garrison given the note to his wife? Emma could have delivered it to her. She would ask Emma when she returned.

Melinda was still deep in thought when Paul returned to the buggy. He tipped his hat and gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Took longer than I thought.”

“That's quite all right, Paul. I'm in no great hurry.”

He flicked the reins and the horse stepped forward. Moments later, Paul pulled on the left rein and the horse began to round the edge of the barn. At the sound of Evan's boisterous laughter, Melinda glanced toward the barn. Inside the doorway, Victoria stood gazing at Evan, her blond curls coiffed to perfection beneath her veiled riding hat. She clung to his arm and leaned even closer when she caught sight of Melinda in the buggy. Victoria appeared to be delighted with her catch. And by the smile on Evan's face, he looked as if he enjoyed being caught!

Melinda clenched her jaw as she struggled to maintain her composure. How could he?

While Evan rode toward the golf course, he attempted to focus upon the work that needed to be completed that day. But instead of creating a mental picture of where to assign his workers, he recalled all that had gone wrong with Melinda during the past week. He'd done his best to convince her that Victoria Polter's riding lessons were no more than a job—the same as his work at the golf course or tracking different species of game available for the hunters. Unfortunately, he'd failed to sway her. After Victoria had personally visited Melinda's office to schedule more riding lessons, Evan's explanations had fallen upon deaf ears, even though he'd told her Mr. Morley had given him no choice. The investor's instructions had been clear: Accommodate Victoria's requests for riding lessons. And Victoria's requests had been abundant.

With each new appointment, Evan received a crisp note from Melinda that said nothing more than the date and the time, along with the words
Riding lesson for Victoria
—never Miss Polter—always Victoria. The pointed use of Miss Polter's first name hadn't escaped him. And though he would never tell Melinda, Miss Polter presented a number of challenges. After their first lesson, her young brother had been scheduled for a different time and with a different instructor—all at Victoria's request. Another fact that wouldn't have escaped Melinda's notice, for Melinda scheduled the lessons.

Evan guided the horse onward, his attention drawn to a patch of wild flowers in hues of scarlet and purple. For a moment he considered stopping to pick some for Melinda but soon changed his mind. By day's end they would be wilted. Besides, he had no idea when he'd see her. How he wished he could schedule time with Melinda rather than Victoria.

With each lesson Victoria acted more familiar, and he became more uncomfortable. So much so that Evan asked some of the younger lads to remain close by when Victoria was present in the barn or corral. Of course, once the two of them were out on a trail or riding along the beach, he had little choice if she asked to stop and rest. During those times, he did his best to keep his horse between them, though he'd not always been successful.

To make matters worse, Mr. Morley had never allotted Evan additional time off. His promotion had not been forthcoming, yet his duties and work hours continued to multiply—and so did his frustration. Still, he had no recourse. If he was going to wed Melinda, he needed that promotion, and he couldn't refuse assigned duties or offer objections. Though he had hoped Melinda would understand, their brief encounters over the past week or two revealed she'd lost patience. He understood her frustration, for he experienced the same disappointment. Yet his concern had heightened when he'd seen Preston Powers standing close to Melinda while she directed a group of children in a croquet game on the lawn of the clubhouse.

Evan's time with her had been relegated to Sunday morning church services and a brief visit afterward. Although Sunday was a day of rest for most, it was not so for the workers of Bridal Veil—at least not during the season. Meals and planned activities were still expected to commence on Sunday afternoons and evenings. For Evan, it meant work at the golf greens. The special event planned for mid-March required completion of the course. Although Mr. Morley had finally secured a monthly bonus for Evan, if he didn't succeed, the possibility of securing Harland's old position and a permanent increase in wages would diminish. Mr. Morley hadn't specifically said those words, but the investor was keeping a close eye on the project—and on Evan.

After issuing instructions to the workers, Evan mounted his horse and rode back toward the lodge for yet another riding lesson with Victoria. How he wished these interruptions could be avoided.

His thoughts scattered in a thousand directions. There was so much that must be completed over the next several weeks and he prayed the weather would remain favorable. Otherwise, they didn't stand a chance of completing the course. He reined in the horse as he entered the corral and dismounted.

Paul came to the door of the barn. “Miss Polter is waiting inside. She wasn't happy that you weren't already here. I went ahead and saddled her usual horse.”

“Thank you, Paul. Everything else going well today?”

The boy shoved his hand into his pants pocket and withdrew a shiny coin. He grinned and held it aloft. “Couldn't be better, Mr. Evan. Look what I got from one of the gentlemen.”

Evan congratulated the boy. “Looks like you're pleasing the guests. When they give you a tip, it means you gave them exceptional service, Paul.” He patted him on the shoulder.

“I didn't do much of anything for him, but he was happy with what I told him.”

Confused, Evan stopped and looked at the boy. “What is it that you told him?”

Paul hiked a shoulder. “He said he saw a man out riding a beautiful horse. He described Mr. Lawrence's horse and said he came over to the barn to see it.” Paul took hold of the horse's reins and walked him toward Evan. “I told him we didn't keep that horse at our barn.”

“What else did he ask?” The fact that someone had come to the barn asking about Lawrence's horse heightened Evan's attentiveness. He hadn't truly understood Lawrence's reasoning for stabling the horse away from the barn.

“Wanted to know the horse's name and where we keep him stabled.”

Evan's heart thumped like a beating drum, yet he couldn't understand his strange reaction. Lawrence had papers on the horse and said everything was in order. There was no reason for concern. Still, he'd said he didn't want anyone around the horse.

“What did you tell him, Paul?”

“The truth. I don't know where Mr. Lawrence keeps the horse. I said the horse's name was Priceless Journey
.
When I told him the horse's name, he looked kind of disappointed and left. Did I do wrong, Mr. Evan? Should I give him his money back?”

“No, Paul. You keep the money—you did fine.”

Evan strode toward the lodge. He'd take Victoria for her riding lesson, but he doubted his thoughts would be on anything other than Lawrence and Priceless Journey
.
Victoria hurried over to him the moment he stepped into the lodge.

“There you are, you naughty boy.” She tightened her lips into a moue and tapped his chest with her index finger. “I don't like it when I'm kept waiting. Especially by you.” She stepped closer, leaving a mere inch between them. When Evan took a backward step, she moved forward. “I've missed you, Evan, and when you're late for our time together, it causes me to believe you don't care about me.” She formed her lips into another pout. “I'm sure you wouldn't want me to speak with Mr. Morley, would you?”

Evan stared down at the young woman. How he wished to tell her he detested being controlled by the whims of a spoiled young woman—but he knew such a comment would result in unwanted repercussions. “I do have other duties that need my attention, Miss Polter.”

She leaned in and rested her palms against his chest.
“Victoria,”
she whispered. Before he could move, she raised up on her toes and kissed him full on the mouth. “Perhaps that will help you remember my name.”

She nearly fell when Evan abruptly backed away from her. Evan glanced toward the door, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. What if Melinda had been nearby and observed the scene? She would never forgive him. “I am your riding instructor. Nothing more and nothing less. Please don't do that again.”

Victoria giggled. “Your lips say no, but I believe your heart will soon say yes, Evan.”

“Melinda!”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Melinda spun on her heel and came face-to-face with Mrs. Mifflin. She clasped a hand to her bodice. “Mrs. Mifflin. H-h-how good to see you.” She did her best to sound pleased but feared her voice had betrayed her.

Mrs. Mifflin gave her a feeble smile. “You need not fib to me, Melinda. I imagine you feel quite the opposite.” Her former mistress stared at her open hand, still resting on the bodice of her shirtwaist. “I don't see a ring on your finger. I do hope your fellow—Evan wasn't it? I do hope he wasn't injured in the hurricane.”

She tried to reply, but her lips wouldn't move.

“I don't blame you for being angry with me. I was unduly harsh when you departed. I owe you an apology.” She cleared her throat. “Cyrus will be the first to tell you that I don't apologize often, but when I do, it comes from the heart.”

The room momentarily swirled and she wondered if she might faint. Today's schedule had been hectic. She'd arranged and overseen a surprise birthday party for a set of ten-year-old twins that had included lunch, outdoor games, and birthday cake. Following that exhausting event, she'd hurried indoors to make certain supplies and easels had been set up for the ladies enrolled in painting classes. Each class was followed by a sumptuous tea, which also required Melinda's oversight. She couldn't be sure if the ladies enjoyed the painting classes, but all of them delighted in the extravagant array of tea and pastries offered after the sessions. In all of the rush, she'd failed to eat lunch. And then she'd been surprised by Mrs. Mifflin and her uncharacteristic apology. No wonder she felt light-headed.

Melinda snatched one of the activity sheets from a nearby table and fanned herself. “I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little faint. I failed to take time for lunch today.” She couldn't decide if Mrs. Mifflin's wrinkled forehead was due to concern or irritation.

The older woman grasped Melinda's elbow and propelled her toward a couch in the small parlor. “Do sit down before you fall down.” The moment she was seated, Mrs. Mifflin motioned to a maid passing through the outer foyer. “Bring me a glass of water and a sandwich.” Before the girl could respond, Mrs. Mifflin waved her off. “And be quick about it.” Removing her gloves, she settled on the divan beside Melinda. “Now tell me about Evan and your marriage—or lack thereof.”

“I'm not married, but Evan is fine. He wasn't injured in the hurricane.”

Mrs. Mifflin dropped her gloves onto her lap. “Then why aren't you married? I thought that was the plan when you made your hasty departure.”

“Evan thinks it's better if we wait until—”

“When Cyrus received word that you were being considered for this position, I was certain that the young man had backed out on his proposal. I don't want to say I told you so, but I did tell you that young men who work in these places are not the marrying kind. They'll tell a girl most anything in order to—”

“Mrs. Mifflin! Evan is not like that at all.” The moment she'd uttered the words of defense, a picture of Victoria and Evan came to mind and taunted her.

The older woman's lips drooped into a frown. “Then explain why there isn't a wedding ring on your finger.”

With thoughts of Victoria dancing in her head, Melinda's explanation sounded hollow, and Mrs. Mifflin didn't fail to read between the lines.

“Forgive me, Melinda, but you don't look or sound like a young woman planning for marriage in a month or two.”

“That's because Evan hasn't received his promotion, and we have no idea when or if that will happen. The circumstances are difficult. He's dependent upon the investors to make the decision.” The thought of Victoria clutching Evan's arm flashed to mind, and Melinda leaned against the back of the couch.

Mrs. Mifflin picked up her gloves and flapped them in front of Melinda's face like two limp fans. “You've become pale again. Please don't faint. You know I'm not good at dealing with illness.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Where is that maid with the water and sandwich?” As if on cue, the girl rounded the corner carrying a tray. Mrs. Mifflin heaved a sigh. “Good heavens, it's about time you got here. A person could die of thirst.”

The girl gave a tiny curtsy as she placed the tray on the nearby table. Her eyes shone with fear when she glanced at Melinda. “Thank you, Molly.” The maid leaned down to pour water into the glass. “We can take care of the water.” Melinda smiled, hoping to set the girl at ease. Melinda turned to Mrs. Mifflin as Molly scurried off. “It's her first week. She's trying very hard.”

“Well, if anyone understands the difficulty of locating good help, it's me.” The older woman poured water into one of the stemmed water goblets and handed it to Melinda. “Do take a drink and then eat.” With a stern look, she motioned toward the sandwich. “I insist.”

Melinda let the cool water slide down her throat. She should be reviewing tomorrow's events with Chef Bickerstaff, but Mrs. Mifflin would cause a scene if she attempted to excuse herself. Besides, she didn't think her legs would hold her if she attempted to stand up.

She lifted the silver dome from atop the sandwich. “I'm going to feel rude eating in front of you.”

Mrs. Mifflin picked up the linen napkin, snapped it open, and settled it across Melinda's lap. “I hope you don't expect me to feed you.” She picked up the plate and placed it on the napkin. “I'll talk while you eat.”