To Love and Cherish (27 page)

He arched his back and pinned her with a dark gaze. “How did you hear that information?”

“From a guest. One who trusted me to keep her confidence. I am speaking to you because she said you'd already been informed of the anticipated visit.”

Mr. Zimmerman grasped Melinda's elbow and propelled her toward his office. He pushed the door closed behind them, apparently concerned about privacy rather than propriety during this conversation.

“The information you received is correct. Sometime in March, the newspapers will be notified that the president intends to visit Biscayne. I don't know what other information will be given to the public regarding the president's schedule, but it will not come from employees of this resort.” A ray of sunlight glistened on Mr. Zimmerman's black hair as he stepped across the room and settled at his desk. “We can't control what guests tell one another, or even what they tell the resort employees. However, any employee repeating this information will be discharged. We have promised secrecy. It is up to the president or his advisors to determine whether they will publicize the visit. Is that clear, Miss Colson?”

“Yes. I had no intention of repeating—”

“I'm sure you didn't, but I like everything clarified.”

Never before had Mr. Zimmerman acted in such an abrupt manner. He obviously feared losing his own position if anything went amiss. “How am I to prepare for such esteemed guests if you don't give me proper notice of their visit?”

Mr. Zimmerman folded his hands atop his desk. “You aren't, Miss Colson. I will oversee this visit. If and when I need your assistance, I'll let you know.”

Melinda bowed her head and backed toward the door as warmth spread up her neck and across her cheeks. If Mr. Zimmerman had intended to embarrass her, he'd succeeded. She walked back to her office, uncertain if she should feel offended or relieved that Mr. Zimmerman would oversee the presidential events. However, one thing remained unchanged: the pounding in her head.

She tried to push aside a feeling of defeat as she stepped inside her office. How silly to feel slighted. The last thing she needed was additional work. Rubbing her temples, her gaze fell upon an envelope bearing only her first name. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Evan's handwriting. She needed something to cheer her today. Somehow he had known. She sat down, slid her letter opener beneath the seal, and withdrew the single sheet of paper.

Dear Melinda,

I'm sorry, but I must cancel our plans for tomorrow due to my workload at the golf course. Please forgive me. Perhaps next Friday?

Love,
Evan

The paper fluttered from her hand and dropped to the desk. How could one day provide so many disastrous events? She sank back in the chair and covered her eyes. She would
not
cry. It would only make her head hurt all the more.

As if to taunt her, a vision of Victoria Polter came to mind. The girl made it a practice to stop at Melinda's office each time she returned from her riding lessons with Evan. She reveled in recounting her time with him. Melinda was certain Victoria exaggerated a bit, but today the memory of a remark by Victoria's lady's maid haunted Melinda. She'd overheard the maid comment to one of the other Polter servants that Evan and Victoria appeared quite enamored with each other.

Her confidence faltered as she stared at Evan's note and considered the servant's gossip. In the past she'd been successful in pushing the thoughts from her mind. After all, such stirrings were prompted by nothing more than childish jealousy—and she didn't want to be considered either childish or jealous. But today her feelings seemed neither childish nor jealous. They seemed far too real and very frightening.

Melinda had had little contact with Evan during the past few weeks other than their time at church on Sunday mornings, and the chasm between them was broadening. She'd held out hope he might remain for a time after services this morning, but before they'd walked out of the church, he began to offer an apology.

“I'm sorry, but—”

Melinda held up her hand. “But you have to return to work. Will that golf course never be completed, Evan?”

His mouth dropped open. “Are you forgetting the blizzard that covered the entire southern coast with snow two weeks ago?”

How could he ask such a question? The unexpected storm had created countless problems for all of them, including a postponement of her taking the new apartment. Because of the snow, Melinda had been required to rearrange dates for previously scheduled events while keeping the Bridal Veil visitors happy. The children had enjoyed the astonishing weather changes, but critical comments from the adult guests abounded until the weather finally turned warm.

“I remember quite well. My work more than doubled,” she said.

“And mine came to a halt. With six inches of snow on the ground and cold temperatures, I've only been able to resume work the past two days. And even now, the ground is so wet, it's nearly impossible to accomplish much. How can I make progress when we have one disaster after another on this island? The golf course is important, Melinda. I must have it completed by March twenty-fourth. An important guest is visiting, and if it's not complete . . .” His forehead creased and he lifted his open palms toward heaven. “What am I to do?”

She bit back her comment. Did Evan know the identity of the important guest? A month ago she would have asked him. But with their relationship on unsteady ground, she decided to follow Mr. Zimmerman's warning.

“Do whatever you must, Evan. I've told you that the promotion isn't important to our future. It's the two of us working together that will make us stronger, but you don't agree.” He opened his mouth to object, but she shook her head. “I know you promised yourself you would never marry until you could support a wife and children. There's no need to tell me again. Perhaps it's best if we reconsider our future. Although you still manage to have time for
Miss
Polter
, you aren't able to fit me into your busy schedule.”

“That's unfair, Melinda. You know my time with Victoria is a necessity—one over which I hold no control.”

She arched her brows. “Really? I didn't realize that sharing affectionate embraces or kissing was considered a requirement of riding lessons.”

His features contorted into a strange mixture of surprise and irritation. “I don't know how you got information about embraces or kisses, but I have no interest in Victoria Polter. She has been very forward and controlling, even threatening to carry tales to Mr. Morley if I don't comply with her every request.”

Her frustration mounted at his excuses. “You're a grown man, Evan. I find it difficult to believe you couldn't stop her advances if you truly wanted to. I think we should both take time to evaluate what we want for our future. You need not worry about finding time for me in your busy schedule.”

She turned and walked away before he could see the tears forming in her eyes. Keeping to the circular path leading from the church, she raised her parasol and walked toward the clubhouse. Her stomach clenched in a tight knot as she attempted to gain control over her roiling emotions. The impact of her final words to Evan replayed like a haunting melody. Why had she said he need not worry about finding time for her when she wanted nothing more than to spend her time with him? Why had she said they should evaluate their future together when she already knew she wanted to share her future with him?

She kept her gaze fixed on the path. “What does
he
want? That's the real question,” she muttered. He hadn't followed after her—he hadn't even called her name. Did he believe his position at Bridal Veil more important than marriage to her? A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard to keep her tears at bay. The clubhouse lawn had filled with guests, and she didn't want anyone reporting her emotional state to Mr. Zimmerman.

In the distance she spotted Lawrence riding off with one of the guests. Two days ago, her brother still hadn't located the bill of sale for Midnight Flight
.
When Melinda questioned him, he'd adopted a cavalier attitude that had annoyed her. In turn, she'd become snappish, and they'd parted with no resolution.

In her brother's mind, there was no problem. He always adopted the position that by ignoring a problem, it would somehow disappear. Melinda embraced the belief that procrastination intensified difficult dilemmas. Her brother's delay tactics had become increasingly worrisome, and Melinda wanted him to take the matter seriously before the police became involved. But right now her worries over Evan were of greater concern than Lawrence and his irresponsible behavior.

“Here's the lovely lady I was hoping to see.” Still lost in thought, Melinda startled and turned to see Preston Powers striding toward her. He chuckled. “I didn't mean to frighten you. I thought you heard me approaching.”

“No. My thoughts were elsewhere.” From his attire, she guessed he'd spent the morning riding rather than attending church.

“I'd like to believe your thoughts were on me. Is that possible?” His lips curved in a flirting grin.

She frowned and took a backward step. Over the past weeks, Preston had become increasingly familiar with her. At times she enjoyed his company, but his personal comments caused a sense of discomfort and uneasiness. “My thoughts are personal, Mr. Powers, but they were not of you.”

He clasped a hand to his chest and pretended he might fall to the ground. “You've wounded me, dear Melinda. How could I have become enamored with a woman who treats me so heartlessly?”

She inwardly cringed at his remark. What if someone heard him? They were drawing near the clubhouse, and visitors were scattered across the area playing croquet, bocce ball, and horseshoes. She considered taking him to task for his bold remarks but knew it would likely encourage him to continue his foolish banter. And one of the guests would certainly overhear.

“I take it you've been riding or on a hunt this morning.”

He glanced down at his riding boots. “A hunt, but I went along only for the ride. I don't enjoy shooting at birds or animals, though I might consider taking aim at a few of my enemies.”

She stopped midstep and stared at him.

He grasped her elbow and urged her forward. “Don't look so alarmed. I was only joking.”

She didn't consider his remark amusing but let it pass. “Did the other men meet with success on the hunt?”

“I believe the animals would count it successful—they managed to remain well hidden.” He laughed and followed her into the clubhouse.

Melinda removed the key to her office door and turned toward Preston. He had moved much too close, and she backed against the door. “I have a couple of matters that I must attend to.” She hoped he would consider her comment the end of their exchange.

“By all means.” He gestured toward the office door. “I'm going back to the cottage and change clothes. I doubt they'd permit me entry to the dining room in my riding clothes. I do hope you'll be here when I return.”

She smiled and gave a tiny shrug. “I find it impossible to know where I will be from one minute to the next.”

“Then I shall have to come in search of you.” He winked before he turned and strode toward the door.

The man was impertinent, but at least he found her interesting enough to seek out. Her heart tugged and the familiar loneliness grabbed hold again. If only Evan would pursue her with half as much fervor.

She withdrew her appointment book from the shelf and ran her finger along the page. Next week was booked for several events, but there were several days that weren't particularly busy. She sighed, grateful for the break in her schedule, for there were always guests who wanted Melinda to arrange a last-minute card party or tea.

“Ah, Miss Colson! I didn't expect you to be in your office, but it pleases me to see your dedication.” Mr. Zimmerman stepped into Melinda's office and sat down in the chair opposite her desk. “I have changed my mind.”

A lump as hard as last week's bread formed in her stomach. “Changed your mind about what?” The supervisor seldom changed his mind about anything, and when he did, it usually wreaked havoc on the staff.

“About the visit from our special guest.” He glanced at the door. “You understand whom we are discussing?”

“Yes.” An involuntary tremble assailed her. Had Mr. Zimmerman now decided to drop all of the planning in her lap?

He leaned forward and peered into her eyes. “I have decided that we should hold the costume ball while our special guests are here.” His thin mustache quivered as his lips curled into a broad smile. “Isn't that an excellent idea?” His eyes glistened with anticipation as he leaned back and awaited her response.

“No!” The answer burst from her lips with unexpected vehemence. Mr. Zimmerman flinched, and Melinda apologized for her forceful response. “The costume ball is scheduled in April. The guests are aware of the April date. I've already arranged for the musicians. I don't think I'll have enough time to prepare.”

Mr. Zimmerman shrugged. “Contact the musicians and change the date or find new ones if they don't wish to accommodate your request. The ball will be held on March twenty-fifth. I'm confident you'll complete the necessary preparations. You have a month. That should be more than sufficient.”

“But the other guests—”

“If they create a fuss, tell them we are having two balls, one in March and one in April. You can make the first a costume ball and the second a masquerade. The ladies will be pleased to have an additional party. The gentlemen perhaps not so much, but they won't offer too many objections. They want to keep their wives happy.” He swiped his hands together. “That was easily solved.”

She folded her hands and squeezed until her fingers turned numb from the pressure. Mr. Zimmerman would accept no argument. “I'll begin seeing to the arrangements right away.”

Melinda hadn't fully recovered from Mr. Zimmerman's unexpected decision when Preston returned. He stood in the doorway and extended his hand toward her. “I've arrived to take you to lunch, Miss Colson.” Before she could protest, he stepped closer. “No need to worry. I've already received Mr. Zimmerman's permission to have you join me in the dining room.”

How dare he do such a thing? She swallowed the objection lodged in her throat. Her thoughts were drawn to Evan and Victoria, and she wondered if she'd been hasty to judge his behavior. Still, she'd held Mr. Powers at bay, and she certainly hadn't permitted him to embrace or kiss her! Employees were expected to accept any
proper
request from a visitor, but they weren't obliged to tolerate unseemly behavior. Personally, she didn't deem an invitation to lunch with a guest an appropriate duty for an employee, but Mr. Zimmerman had given Preston his consent without gaining her approval. Therefore, she had no choice in the matter.

The guests were accustomed to seeing Melinda mingle at their various events, so none of them appeared surprised to see her walk into the dining room and sit down with Preston. Perhaps it wouldn't be such an uncomfortable situation. Besides, she was hungry and Chef Durand was known for his sumptuous cuisine. While she was reviewing the menu, a shadow fell across the table, and she glanced up.

“My, my. Aren't you two a lovely couple. Enjoying your Sunday afternoon, Miss Colson?” Victoria stood beside the table with her younger brother in tow, while her parents were seated at a nearby table.

Melinda looked up with a steady gaze. “I'm preparing to enjoy my noonday meal, Miss Polter. I hope you will enjoy yours, as well.”

“Oh, I've already finished. We're on our way to meet Evan. He was delighted to accept my invitation to go horseback riding this afternoon. I'll be sure to tell him that you and Mr. Powers are enjoying the afternoon together.” She lifted her chin and flashed a triumphant smile before she turned and sashayed out of the room.

Melinda clutched her napkin. Her heart plummeted. No matter how Victoria spun her tale, Melinda knew Evan would presume Preston Powers had played some part in her decision to reevaluate their future.