An Unexpected Suitor (15 page)

Nola wheeled around. “Of course, I haven’t. Why would anyone think differently?”

Judy shrugged. “There are those who are speculating that with the work you’re doing on Harry’s play, maybe you’re planning to sell and head off to New York yourself.”

“Oh, Judy, please tell me you don’t believe such nonsense.”

Her answer came in the almost imperceptible lift of the older woman’s shoulders and her silence other than the occasional slamming of the dough onto the breadboard.

“Judy, nothing has changed,” Nola assured her. “At least not about my intention to maintain my home and business right here in ’Sconset.”

“So you’ll consider hiring these folks from the Cabbage Inn?” Judy glanced up at her.

“I’ll send Mr. Rowling a telegram offering his employees jobs as soon as he can spare them.”

Judy Lang’s smile of pure relief was all the assurance Nola needed that she was making the right decision. She
returned to the post office and wrote out the message she wanted to send to the owner of the Cabbage Inn.

“Bad news?” Essie Crusenberry asked as she came from behind her desk.

“The Cabbage Inn is closing. Alice Rowling has been ill for some time. Her son thought he could manage but his heart’s not in it.”

“Poor soul,” Essie murmured. “But you’ve been looking for help. It would give you the chance to finally cut free of those theater people once and for all.”

“As I have told you before, Essie, ‘
those theater people
’ are good people and they’ve done a wonderful job helping out at the tearoom. And not once have they complained.”

“And why should they? When they got here, you put them up and fed them and let them keep whatever tips might have come their way.” Essie shook her head. “Besides, I know you don’t like hearing this, Nola, but you’ve got bigger problems than that. Now even some of the summer folks are beginning to wag their tongues over how much time you and Harry Starbuck are spending together these days. After those rumors about Alistair Gillenwater and that Russian woman—”

“Unfounded rumors,” Nola reminded the postmistress.

“All the same, talk is that there are some who think having their young people hanging around your place might expose them to the wrong element.”

This wasn’t news to Nola. The Gillenwaters had captured local attention for a moment but Alistair had, of course, declared his innocence. He had dismissed what his sons had observed as nothing more than a casual conversation in a public place and had assured Rose that his abrupt trip to Boston had been purely business related. That, along with
the diamond brooch he had brought her, seemed to have gained him a reprieve of sorts.

Nola took a moment to form her response to Essie’s question with care. “There will always be a few people who misinterpret an innocent friendship or business association, Essie. And frankly, I am so grateful for friends like you who certainly understand that,” Nola said as she handed Essie the script for the telegram. “If there’s a reply before I come for my mail tomorrow, please ask one of the Gillenwater boys to deliver the message to the tearoom.”

Essie followed her out to the street. Her raised eyebrows and smirk of a smile said more than any flood of words ever could. “I thought that Chambliss woman played the piano. Why isn’t she the one working on compositions with him?”

“She plays for the rehearsals. She is not a composer.”
Oh, why am I forever trying to explain myself to people who have already made up their minds?

Essie placed a hand on Nola’s sleeve. “Look, it’s nobody’s business, but when you’re a female and on your own and trying to earn a living, these things matter. Some people don’t like it that you got mixed up with that acting crowd. It’s not personal, Nola. Everyone has your best interests at heart.”

Three tourists sidled past them, their voices loud with the excitement common to those on holiday. Nola took advantage of the interruption to leave before she said something that she would surely regret.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Harry came around the corner just as Nola quickened her step to escape the postmistress. He caught her by the shoulders to keep her from plowing into him. His voice was teasing but his eyes were filled with concern. “Nola?”

“Please excuse me, Harry, I…”

Just as she prepared to dart around him, they both turned at the sound of her name being called. Judy Lang was half running, half walking toward them, her breath coming in short harsh gasps. Starbuck hurried to catch up as Nola ran to meet the red-faced woman.

Judy waved a sheet of heavy blue stationery in front of Nola. “There’s been another note,” she managed.

Before Harry could read over her shoulder and take in the full message, Nola had read through the contents and shoved the note into her pocket. But he had seen enough.

Miss Nola, you will rue the day

You took up with him who likes to play;

Your mother’s memory you disgrace

Repent before more wrath you face.

A friend

“We’ll talk about this at home,” Nola said as she put her arm around the older woman’s waist and started back toward the tearoom.

Harry fell into step beside her. “There’s been more than this one note?” he asked.

Judy nodded. “The first was several weeks ago. Essie handed it to Nola with the morning mail. The second came right after Nola’s accident and now this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Nola?”

“Please don’t concern yourself, Harry,” Nola said with a forced lightness. She even gave a little laugh. “You know how young people like to play pranks. It’s nothing and the best way to deal with it is to ignore it, right, Judy?”

Judy did not appear to agree. She glanced up at Harry. “What do you think?”

Nola shot Harry a look of pleading over Judy’s head. His mouth tightened slightly but he smiled. “Now, Miz Lang, as I recall when I was a boy here on Nantucket, this was just the sort of thing I might have dreamed up. Getting folks all stirred up over some perceived threat and then sitting back and watching it all play out.”

“Yes,” Nola added. “That’s probably how Mr. Starbuck got his start in the theater. These sorts of things are so feigned,” she said. “In fact they are so histrionic that they can’t possibly be taken seriously.”

Judy glanced from one to the other. “I suppose. Still…”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “What was in the other notes?”

Nola shrugged. “More childish pranks. Nothing of importance.”

Judy, Nola and Harry had reached the side gate of the tearoom. Harry held the gate for the ladies but made no move to come inside. “You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked softly once Judy had started up the back porch steps.

Nola gathered strength from his concern. “Perfectly,” she assured him. “Now, I’m sure we both have business we need to attend. Good day to you,” she called, as much for the benefit of Mrs. McAllister who was coming down the street from the opposite direction and craning to catch whatever might be going on between Nola and Harry.

“I’ll see you later this afternoon,” Harry called.

Nola hesitated for just an instant before she glanced back over her shoulder and gave him a smile and a wave that she prayed would reassure him and send him on his way.

H
arry was fairly certain that the motive behind the notes went beyond a simple prank. In the first place it had taken a lot of patience to go to such lengths—making up rhymes, cutting out just the right letters and such. Then there was the expensive stationery. There was something familiar about the color, the thickness of the lined envelope that Judy had waved about. In spite of his reassurance to Mrs. Lang, the one line of the note that he’d seen worried Harry.

...took up with him who likes to play.

The writer of the note was speaking of Harry, warning Nola about her association with him. He was well aware of the gossip currently making the rounds, but gossip had never bothered him before. Of course, Nola was a different matter. She would hate being the topic of gossip. Prepared to retrace his steps and confront Nola so that together they could get to the bottom of this, Harry remembered where he had seen that notepaper before.

In the days when Rose Gillenwater was trying to foster
a romance between Violet and Harry, there had been constant invitations to join the family for Sunday dinner or an afternoon carriage ride or to go sailing.
And the invitation always came on heavy blue notepaper.

When the fourth note arrived just two days after the staff from the Cabbage Inn started work in the tearoom, Judy insisted that Nola contact the authorities. This time the note warned that since Nola had ignored the previous notes, the author would not be responsible for what harm might come her way.

“That will only encourage whoever is behind this,” Nola protested. “Can’t you see that anyone who would stoop to such measures is probably watching and hoping for some reaction?”

“Oh, child, I don’t want to believe there might be some lunatic on the loose here in ’Sconset any more than you do. But this is a serious matter, Nola. This latest message implies that you might actually be in danger. At least stop working with Harry for the time being and let this all calm down.”

“All right,” Nola replied. “I’ve done as much as I can anyway and from here until opening night Harry and the others are going to need every moment they can spare to rehearse. Harry himself agrees that there simply can be no more changes until he takes the play to New York.”

“Well, finally we might just get things back to normal around here,” Judy huffed.

Nola gave Judy a hug. “Please stop worrying, Judy. I have everything under control.”

“I’m not going to hold my breath waiting for that,” Judy said. “Harry Starbuck seems to have this way of coming around and stirring the pot whether you like it or not.”

“He’s going to be far too busy for the next few weeks, Judy.”

But as if he’d been waiting in the wings to prove her wrong, Harry showed up in her kitchen just an hour later, right in the middle of the noon rush.

“I have to talk to you,” he said.

Nola stuffed the latest note into the pocket of her apron. “Harry, I have a full house and a new staff still finding their way. Can’t this wait?”

“I think I know who might be sending the notes.”

Nola fingered the note. “Is it someone I know?”

“Yes.”

“Then please don’t tell me.”

“Why not? Nola, this person…”

“…is a neighbor and friend who thinks he or she is doing me a favor by warning me to stay away from you and the others. I have to live in the same small town as this person long after all of you go away, Harry. I don’t want to know.”

“But—”

Judy pushed through the swinging door with a tray laden with dirty dishes. The minute she spotted Harry alone with Nola she paused.

“Mr. Starbuck is just leaving,” Nola said. “Aren’t you, Harry?”

“For now. But if there are any more notes…”

“There won’t be if you’ll stop hanging around Nola here,” Judy told him.

Harry ignored her and focused on Nola. “You will let me know if there is even one more note?”

“There won’t be any more notes. Now, unless you intend to tie on an apron and prepare a fresh batch of cucumber sandwiches, please go. We are swamped.”

Harry was tempted to take her up on the offer to help out in the kitchen. At least then he’d be able to keep an eye on her. Nola Burns was possibly the most stubborn woman he had ever met. Did she not understand that at just over five feet and not an ounce over one hundred pounds, she was hardly a match for someone who might wish her harm? Not that he thought Rose Gillenwater would actually resort to physical violence, but Rose had a lot of influence over others. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that someone might decide to confront Nola directly.

As he entered the cabaret, he spotted Alistair and decided he would have a word with the man about his wife’s penchant for sticking her nose into other people’s business. But before he could take his partner aside, Billy interrupted.

“It’s Ellie, boss. She’s taken a tumble.”

Without missing a step, Harry followed as Billy led the way backstage.

“We were all just taking a look at things and didn’t know that stair railing wasn’t secured yet and Ellie, well, she leaned against it and…”

Ellie was sitting on an overturned wooden crate surrounded by the entire cast—a cast that now had grown to include several of the resident colony of actors. She was holding her wrist and wincing.

“We sent for the doctor,” Jasper said as he stepped aside to let Harry kneel next to Ellie. “Do you think it’s broken?”

“It’s a sprain. Nothing more,” Ellie said. “Please, I’m fine.”

“Give her some space and somebody go see what’s keeping that doctor,” Harry barked. “Just sit tight,” he instructed Ellie in a softer tone.

“Whatever the verdict, I’m not going to be able to play for rehearsals, Harry. You’ll have to get someone else.”

“You let me worry about that.”

“Nola could do it,” Ellie said.

“Nola’s busy. Now hold still. Here comes Dr. Wainwright.”

Nola was on her way to the bookstore when she saw the little parade of actors making their way down the street. At the center of the group were Ellie and Dr. Wainwright. Trailing behind were Billy, Jasper and the Kowalski sisters. Starbuck was, as usual, barking out orders and Olga had hurried ahead to hold the door to the clinic open for Ellie.

“What’s happened?” Nola asked as she caught up with the Kowalski twins.

“Oh, Nola, it’s Ellie. She fell and hurt her wrist.”

“It might be broken,” Deedee said.

“Or sprained,” Mimi corrected. “Either way she can’t play for rehearsal and until the musicians Mr. Starbuck hired get here at the end of the week, we have no one.”

“Oh, come now. There must be at least one person among the summer resident actors who plays?”

Deedee shook her head. “Well, sure, but no one else knows the music and Harry says we really don’t have time for anyone to learn it and…”

“But you know it, Nola,” Mimi said and grinned at her sister. “You could rehearse with us until the other musicians get here.”

“Please?” Billy pleaded as he joined the group.

Nola looked at their eager faces. She had come to care for these young people so much. They were bright and talented and such fun to be around. They had helped her
out when she’d needed them. Perhaps now it was time to repay the favor.

“I suppose I could…”

“Great! I’ll go tell Starbuck.” And before Nola could reconsider, Billy had headed back inside the clinic with the Kowalski sisters right behind.

“It’s only a few times,” Nola told Judy. “Just until Harry can get the musicians he hired here.”

“How can that help? Won’t they need to learn the music?”

“No. Harry has sent them the music to learn in advance. He’ll just need to coordinate the actors and the new musicians.”

“And I suppose you’ll have to get involved in that as well. That man…”

“I’m not doing this for him, Judy. I’m doing it for Ellie and Billy and the others.” Nola was well aware that Judy had a soft spot in her heart for Billy and Jasper.

“You’ll make sure that Billy or Jasper sees you back here every night after rehearsal?”

“Promise.”

“And before you do anything else I want you to take those notes and show them to Reverend Diggs.”

“Oh, Judy…”

Judy placed her hands firmly on her hips and the look she gave Nola stated more clearly than any words that this was not up for discussion. “I’ll go and see Reverend Diggs,” Nola agreed.

“And heed his advice even if he counsels staying away from Starbuck and his kind?”

“No. I will not be dictated to by someone too cowardly to discuss the matter with me directly. Harry’s play is im
portant. It could touch so many souls. How can I not be a part of that, given the opportunity?”

Judy untied her apron and reached for her hat. “Then if you won’t listen to reason I’m going to the authorities,” she said.

“No, wait. If we get the police involved think of how that might affect the tearoom. Our customers might decide it’s too dangerous to be seen here. Let me speak with Reverend Diggs first.”

“And you’ll do as he counsels?”

Nola nodded and breathed a sigh of relief when Judy retied her apron.

“I’m sure it’s nothing more than a prank,” Nola told the minister as he read through each note. “In fact, originally I thought Mr. Starbuck was the author, but he wouldn’t go to such lengths.”

“More to the point, he would not make threats, Nola. No, this is someone who is becoming increasingly agitated by your continued association with Mr. Starbuck and his friends.”

“That could be any number of people,” Nola replied with a wry smile. “Perhaps some misguided soul is simply trying to frighten me.”

“Still, one cannot be too careful, my dear. While Mr. Starbuck has been a generous and faithful supporter of this church and the community, there are those who persist in viewing his theatrical activities as being in questionable taste for a man of his position.”

“Then why not send threatening notes to him?”

Reverend Diggs smiled. “Because, Nola, the sender of these notes may already view Mr. Starbuck as a lost cause
while you—you are the innocent here, the one who must be warned and saved.”

“You are saying that I should take this nonsense seriously?”

“Quite seriously.”

“But to bow to anonymous threats,” she protested.

“I am not suggesting you surrender, Nola. But certain precautions would be prudent.”

“And what are you suggesting?”

The minister removed his glasses and leaned toward her. “I agree that the last thing you want to do is call attention to this matter. In my limited experience a person taking such drastic actions is seeking notoriety. However, you do need to keep the local authority apprised of the situation.”

“I can’t have my customers seeing a police officer coming and going, Reverend. Think what that would do to my business.”

“I’m sure that Osgood Daniels can work behind the scenes, so to speak, so that no one is aware of his presence. But, Nola, he does need to be involved.”

“I suppose,” Nola reluctantly agreed.

The minister smiled. “I understand that the construction on the cabaret is a bit behind schedule.”

“Yes. Rehearsals are being held in the hotel now.”

“I see. Perhaps if you were to involve Oliver and Minnie Franks in this project? They are held in the highest esteem throughout the community and if they became a part of the preparation it just might be a way to break through this impasse that seems to have developed between the locals and the acting colony.”

“But they have been—concerned.”

“And what better way to allay those concerns than to
bring the involved parties together? Besides, Oliver is an amateur composer himself.”

“Well, if you really think Oliver and Minnie would consider it, then yes, Reverend. Thank you.”

Reverend Diggs handed her back the notes and walked up the aisle with her. “I have to admit that I had some concerns myself when you first took the actors into your home and employ, Nola. I’m ashamed to admit that in the past I was inclined to view our summer theatrical residents as people whose spiritual needs were not my concern. But after observing the way you integrated Mrs. Chambliss and her peers into your business and then into your life even after they had moved out of your home and into the cottages, I decided to call upon them myself. I found most of them to be people not unlike the members of this congregation—people of solid faith.”

“Oh, they are such good people, Reverend Diggs. I shall miss them terribly once the season ends.”

“There is one other facet of this matter we need to consider, Nola dear,” the minister said. “It is the matter of your feelings for Harry Starbuck.”

Nola felt a flush of embarrassment creep up the sides of her neck, but then she stood tall and met his gaze directly. “Harry Starbuck and I have a somewhat complicated friendship. As you no doubt are aware, he hopes to buy me out. That is on the one hand.”