The Girl Who Wrote in Silk (16 page)

He didn’t think she would succeed. God, the truth hurt. She sank into the chair behind her, grateful it was there.

Her dad had always supported her, always made her believe she could do anything she set her mind to. His belief in her had pulled her through every challenge she’d ever faced. If he didn’t believe she could succeed with the hotel, was it because she couldn’t? Was she fooling herself?

As she sat there staring at her father, she realized she’d expected him to back down, apologize, give her what she wanted.

God. Grow up, Inara.
Acid burned her throat.

“Why pink toilets?” She had to know.

His only movement was raising his eyebrows. “I provided the needed catalyst to get you to shut down the project. You’re overqualified to live on that godforsaken island and be an innkeeper. Think of where you could go in a career with a global company like Starbucks. Which, incidentally, still has a job waiting for you. Or I could put feelers out to see who else is hiring.”

Just as she’d suspected. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or shout at him. She opened her mouth, but then closed it again without making a sound. She wasn’t going to accept the Starbucks job—or any other job he found. She was going to build her hotel, and she was going to run it, and it was going to be the best damn boutique hotel in the region.

She belonged on that island, and she belonged in the hotel business. It may have been Aunt Dahlia’s original dream, but it was completely her own now. This was what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. She was sure of it.

But she didn’t have the capital to see the project through, and with her student loans and lack of income at the moment, she wouldn’t be able to get a loan from anyone but her dad. Without him, she’d fail. “Why’d you give me the loan in the first place?”

His eyes softened. “I can’t help it. I want you to be happy. But I don’t believe the island is where you belong.”

“Come up and see it. You’ll understand then.”

At that moment the door opened and her brother, Nate, walked in with a huge smile for her. “Zoé told me you were here. Everything okay?”

She gave him a distracted hug and tried to smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just having a chat with Dad.”

“Anything I can do to help?” He was next in line to run the business. Of course he was prepared to help with any problem, financial or otherwise. She wouldn’t ask him for a loan, though. His wife Jennifer’s clothing boutique was still getting off the ground, and they had two boys to put through college.

“Thanks, Nate, but I’m good. Really. It’s good to see you.”

He stared at her a minute, clearly not believing her, then squeezed her shoulder. “You too.” Then he turned to their father and shifted back into business mode. “The Yŏu Yì execs just pulled up downstairs. Be ready in five minutes.” And then to Inara, “They’re just about ready to sign off on the buyout. Cross your fingers they accept our offer today.”

She held up her hand, fingers crossed. “Done.”

“I’ll see you in there, Nate.” Her dad hadn’t moved since Nate came in.

She and her father were both silent as Nate left. The minute the door clicked shut behind him, the pressure in Inara’s chest grew. “Will you look at my concepts? I have some drawings with me, and the financials. I’m just getting started, but you’ll be able to get a good feel for everything.” She knew she was grasping.

When he didn’t respond, she pulled back her shoulders and tried again. “Well then, let’s make our business deal even more formal. How about if I sign over part ownership of the estate to you, so you not only will be paid back for your loan with interest, but you’ll get a cut of all future profits from the hotel or”—she took a deep breath—“ profits from the sale of the estate if that’s what it comes down to.”

She swore she saw a flash of interest in his eyes. “I know this isn’t what you envisioned for me, but I promise you, everything I learned in graduate school I will put to use at the hotel. It’s challenging in ways that make me feel alive and happy. The hotel, every complicated aspect of it, is exactly what I’m meant to do with my life, and when you see it, you’ll agree.”

“You’re playing with a lot of money, Inara.” He sounded tired.

“It’s not a game.” Getting an idea, she went back to her chair and grabbed her cell from her bag and pulled up her schedule. “At the end of this first phase of the renovation, which we’re targeting for Labor Day weekend, why don’t you come up and inspect the place? See it with your own eyes and decide at that time if you’ll continue as my business partner or back out. If you back out, I’ll pay you back in full at that time, even if that means putting the estate on the market.” She swallowed. “Until then, you give me an honest chance. What do you say?”

He didn’t say anything, just lifted his graying eyebrows and looked at her like she was still a teenager asking to stay out past curfew. She chewed her lip.

Finally he shook his head, sending her heart crashing to the floor. “I’m not going to take equity,” he said, surprising her. “We’ll keep to our original loan agreement. But I do like the idea of Labor Day being a decision date. You have until September. My decision at that time stands.”

“And you’ll stop meddling with my orders and tell the real estate agent to go away?”

“Yes.” The smile he gave her was the one that always made her feel like his special little girl.

She smiled back. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”

When he opened his arms to her, she stepped into his embrace. Then, knowing he had to get to his meeting, she gathered her things and said good-bye.

She’d driven six blocks feeling high on the success of her meeting before she remembered the first half of the conversation. Had she really agreed to stop researching the sleeve?

If she didn’t, her dad might take away her funding, despite agreeing not to do anything until Labor Day.

She couldn’t risk it. She had to let the sleeve go. And she’d have to figure out how to explain her sudden change of heart to Daniel.

Without the sleeve she wouldn’t have a good excuse to see him again, which made her feel even more depressed. But if she kept seeing him, she’d have to lie to him about all she knew of the murders, about there even being murders. He didn’t know any of that, and as a college professor and history buff, he’d want the truth revealed to the whole world.

As it should be. But not at her family’s expense.

She had no choice but to tell Daniel they were finished.

Sunday, August 8, 1886

McElroy Farm, Orcas Island

Mei Lien woke early and rolled out of bed, being extra careful not to wake Joseph, who had arrived home late the night before after meeting the mail steamer at Orcas Village. She didn’t understand why the steamer couldn’t come up into East Sound, which would be much less distance for Joseph to travel, but he just smiled and shrugged when she asked him about it.

She tiptoed out of the bedroom and closed the door softly behind her before hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen below and on into the sitting room where she’d left her surprise in her sewing basket.

A thrill went through her as she looked at her surroundings. They’d moved into the new house last week after spending every spare minute since their wedding working together to finish it. She loved living here. The house felt solid and grand, with more rooms than they could use. “We’ll fill them with children, then,” Joseph had teased her. She’d secretly been pleased that he wanted children, for she did too. Very much.

She smiled now as she looked up at the sitting room windows framed by curtains that she’d sewn herself out of flour sacks. Each had an embroidered red dragon along the bottom edge, which would bring her and Joseph good fortune and happiness. Grandmother would be proud of her for the fine work she’d done.

Still smiling, she reached into her sewing basket and pulled out the surprise she’d finished last night. She spread Joseph’s new mailbag over her lap and carefully studied the design she’d embroidered on the strong canvas. Instead of traditional Chinese symbols, she’d decided to embroider a scene from her husband’s world. On the bag was the same imposing mountain that stretched into the sky behind their farm—Mount Constitution was what Joseph called it. Stretching along the bottom was an expanse of blue water—East Sound. And in between mountain and water she’d embroidered his farm, complete with their new house half-hidden behind tall evergreen trees.

Because she’d been unable to resist, she’d added small symbols to help Joseph on his journeys delivering mail. Along the side of the house was a vine for protection. Hidden in the water were goldfish, never to be found in the actual waters of East Sound, but on the mailbag to bring Joseph wealth and prosperity. On the mountain, hidden behind the trees, lay a tiger for the courage and bravery Joseph sometimes needed on his journey and was sure to need in the coming days as more and more islanders learned of their marriage.

But Mei Lien’s favorite secret symbol was the mushrooms she’d embroidered throughout the forest to represent virility, for she’d decided it was time they start that family Joseph had teased her about.

“Mei Lien?”

She jerked at the sound of Joseph’s voice coming from the kitchen, then shoved the mailbag into her sewing basket.

“What have you got there?” Joseph asked, filling the small sitting room with his large frame. Coming to her, he crouched beside her sewing basket and, with the corner of his mouth tugging upward, tapped the bag she hadn’t been able to hide completely. “What’s this?”

She smiled at her husband, aware as always how fortunate she was to be with this man. “It’s a surprise.”

With a tilt of his head, he pulled the bag out of the basket and held it up. “A mailbag?”

Suddenly shy, she stared at her lap. “Yes. It’s your farm.”

“I can see that. It’s beautiful.” He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, the mailbag crushed between them. “You are very talented. And I am honored.”

She giggled as he strapped the bag across his chest and strutted around the sitting room modeling it for her, wearing only his trousers and undershirt.

He’d surprised her on their wedding night by shaving off his beard and mustache, and he’d shaved every morning since. She had never told him she liked his kisses better without his hair tickling her face, but he’d somehow known. She’d grown to love the feel of his smooth jaw against her neck as he nuzzled her in the morning before heading out to do chores.

That smooth face was smiling at her now. “I have a surprise for you this morning too.”

She smiled back. “You do?”

“We’re taking the day off, Mrs. McElroy. We’re going to hike up the mountain to see the view from the top. You’ll be able to see the snowcapped mountains on the mainland.” He bit the inside of his cheek, a sure sign that he wasn’t entirely sure she would like his surprise.

She wasn’t sure she did, but she didn’t want to disappoint him. “Let me cook breakfast before we go.” She headed to the kitchen, twisting her long hair on top of her head as she went. “I’ll make extra biscuits we can pack with us. Oh, and can you pick some blackberries from out back? I’ll add them into lemonade I’ll make with those lemons you brought from Victoria last week—” She broke off with a squeal as Joseph looped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his chest.

“So you like the idea of a hike?” he asked against her neck with the nuzzle she loved so much. “You won’t mind all the steamer tourists? Or the islanders?”

She hadn’t left their farm in the five months since they’d returned from Port Townsend. Whenever a neighbor stopped by to see Joseph, she’d hidden in the cabin or barn or down by the water, wherever she could disappear until they were gone. Joseph was good at hurrying people on their way.

She knew she couldn’t hide here forever, though, and a leisurely day spent with her husband sounded too good to resist. “I’ll be fine. Really. Now let me go so I can feed you!”

• • •

Golden sunlight warmed them as Mei Lien and Joseph stood hand in hand on the top of Mount Constitution, tired after the long hike. Sweat pooled under Mei Lien’s breasts and in the middle of her back, and she yearned for the cool, loose cloth of the men’s clothes she used to wear. Women’s dresses were hot and they restricted her movements, but she could see the pleasure Joseph took in seeing her dress like the women of his culture, so she continued to do so without complaint. She rarely exerted herself as much as today, anyway. She was sure she’d be used to the dresses before too long.

But now she focused on the view. Below them spread the other islands in the San Juan archipelago, separated by water so deeply blue it hurt Mei Lien’s heart to see it. From this vantage she could see the Canadian islands to the north, Whatcom on the mainland to the east, and the Olympic Peninsula to the southwest. Two snowcapped mountains towered over the mainland—Baker to the north and Rainier to the south. From here, Mount Rainier looked smaller than it had from Seattle, where, on a clear day, the mountain seemed to hover just beyond reach of the city. Seeing it for the first time since she’d left Seattle reminded Mei Lien of the life she’d had there. Of the people she’d lost.

She turned away from Seattle as surely as she turned away from the life she’d been forced to leave behind. Facing west, she saw past the other islands to the water of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, through which the steamship had carried Father and Grandmother to their deaths. It had happened somewhere out there in that expanse of blue that stretched so far it disappeared into the white haze of the horizon. Was Father’s body beneath that peaceful surface, being lobbed around by the currents and tides? Or had he washed ashore somewhere like Grandmother, his body treated cruelly by animals or, worse, humans?

“Nice breeze, isn’t it?” Joseph asked, cutting into her thoughts.

The breeze did bring relief from the August heat. “Wonderful,” she told him, smiling to hide her melancholy. “Ready for our picnic?”

They settled on the blanket Mei Lien had packed in the hamper Joseph had lugged up the mountain. Between bites of carrots and cucumbers from the garden, canned salmon and the biscuits from breakfast, Joseph told her the story of the last time he’d climbed this mountain, the first month he’d lived on Orcas. A tourist from Tacoma had offered to pay Joseph to act as his guide up the mountain, and Joseph, not wanting to miss an opportunity to make a buck, had agreed without telling the man he’d never been up it himself.

“I practically had to run to stay far enough ahead of him to scout the route before leading him anywhere. The path wasn’t as well-worn then as it is today.” He shook his head as he laughed. “That was the most exhausting twenty dollars I’ve ever made.”

Mei Lien laughed too and felt the ache inside her release a bit. Her memories of her family were always with her, as was the fear that her time here was only borrowed until Campbell or someone like him sent her away, but for the most part she was happy now. She watched her husband as he told her another story, his hands and entire body getting into the telling, and wished her father could have met him. Father would have loved Joseph, despite his not being Chinese.

And then a new realization caused a thundering in her head that drowned out her husband’s words.

She loved this man.

For all he’d given her and given up for himself, and for the tenderness and joy he’d brought to her shattered life—she loved him.

Tucking the realization away, she turned her attention back to his story, feeling joy in a way she’d been certain she would never feel again.

When the remains of their picnic were packed away, Joseph held out a hand to her. “Time for the easy part. Going down the mountain.”

Laughing, they headed down the path playing a game of who could find the most tree branches growing in the shapes of letters of the alphabet.

They were on the letter
M
when they first heard voices echoing through the forest.

“Someone’s coming.” So far they hadn’t encountered anyone, and she’d forgotten it was a possibility. She’d forgotten to be watchful and ready to hide or flee. Her feet refused to move another step as terror flooded through her. “Someone’s coming, Joseph!”

“Sweetheart, it’s all right,” Joseph reassured her with a pat on her hand as he urged her along. “They’re just hikers out for the day like us. No one to worry about, I’m certain.”

She allowed him to tug her down the path, even though her feet didn’t want to cooperate. She kept her hand in his, holding tight for reassurance.

Joseph
won’t let anything happen to me. Joseph will keep me safe.
She let the words repeat over and over in her mind, knowing the truth of them but unable to grasp the comfort they should have brought.

“Well, lookee here. If it ain’t the postman himself!”

Mei Lien’s feet stopped moving again, and she held her breath as two men and their wives rounded the bend and came into view a short distance down the trail. One woman wore a gown of deep blue that reminded Mei Lien of the water she’d seen from the mountain. Over her shoulder the woman carried a lacy parasol that seemed better suited for a stroll on a cobblestoned street than a hike in the forest.

The other woman wore a dress as black as the scowl she directed toward Mei Lien. Her flawless but sour face was pulled tight by the severity of the bun she wore at the back of her head below a hat with lace and feathers sticking from it.

Mei Lien suddenly felt self-conscious of her own appearance. In honor of the special outing she’d chosen to wear the dress Joseph had purchased for her in Port Townsend on their wedding day. It had never fit well, even though Mei Lien had hemmed the bottom. Standing next to these two white women for whom gowns like this were made, Mei Lien felt out of place and silly. Maybe she should return to dressing like a man and be comfortable.

“Mr. and Mrs. Honeycutt, good to see you again,” Joseph was saying as he shook the men’s hands and tipped his hat to the women, leaving Mei Lien standing alone. “Mr. Talmidge, I take it this is your lovely wife?”

The foursome greeted Joseph with warm smiles before turning curious and guarded eyes to Mei Lien. “And who, Mr. McElroy, do we have here?” asked the woman in the blue dress.

Joseph returned to Mei Lien’s side and drew her against him with an arm around her shoulders. “This is my dear wife, Mrs. McElroy,” he said with such pride in his voice that Mei Lien felt the sting of tears hit the backs of her eyes. “Perhaps you heard I got married this spring.”

The two couples shuffled their feet and looked out of the corners of their eyes at one another. The one Joseph called Mr. Talmidge raised his eyebrows as his wife pursed her lips so tightly she looked like the puffer fish Father had hung from the store ceiling two years ago. Mr. Honeycutt cleared his throat and said, “Well then. I can see why you’ve been keeping her hidden on your farm all these months.”

Mei Lien clenched her back teeth together and stared at the ground.

The two women giggled behind gloved hands.

“Now see here,” Joseph barked as he stepped in front of Mei Lien as though to protect her from attack. “That is my wife you speak of, sir.”

Mrs. Talmidge sniffed. “We don’t like her kind on our island.”

Mrs. Honeycutt twirled her parasol. “Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the laws and constitutions set forth by the Orcas Island Anti-Chinese Association and signed by residents?”

“Oh, quite the opposite, Mrs. Honeycutt. I am very familiar with the laws that bar any of us from hiring a Chinese person as a worker. Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the fact that a wife is not a servant?”

The parasol stopped twirling as the woman gasped and backed up several steps until her fancy blue dress rubbed against a fallen log. Mei Lien hoped ants from the log crawled up her skirts.

“Now, McElroy,” Mr. Honeycutt said as he stepped forward, his palms raised in surrender. “Don’t be getting riled up. The missus didn’t mean anything. We’re just surprised is all. I mean, I’ve heard grumblings, but I didn’t believe them.”

Joseph’s fists clenched and he dropped the pretense of civility from his voice. “What grumblings?”

Mr. Talmidge removed his bowler hat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “How do we know you aren’t sending money—money the good people of Orcas have paid you as our postman—to her people in China instead of reinvesting it in our economy? Or worse, how do we know you aren’t going to bring her whole family here to muddy our society with their filthy ways? I don’t know about you, Honeycutt, but I’m glad I don’t live near McElroy or I’d be worried about my land value.”