To Love and Cherish (20 page)

Melinda grabbed hold of Emma's arm and shifted from foot to foot. “Oh yes. That would be wonderful. And thank you, Mr. Zimmerman. I appreciate your confidence, and I promise I won't disappoint you.” She continued to hold on to Emma, her fingers squeezing into the flesh of the older woman's arm.

Emma let out a yelp and tugged her arm. “Turn me loose before you leave bruises on me arm, lass.”

“Oh, I'm sorry—I'm so excited.” Melinda clasped a palm to her bodice. “I'll be frugal with my choices while shopping, and I'll continue to think of new ideas.”

Mr. Zimmerman rocked on his heels, obviously pleased with her enthusiasm. “No need to be overly concerned about your budget. Purchase whatever is needed—and ask the seamstress to rush on your clothing.”

Melinda hurried after Emma but stopped and turned before she'd crossed the foyer. “When am I to begin, Mr. Zimmerman?”

“Why, tomorrow morning, Miss Colson. Our first guests registered yesterday, and our numbers will increase each day. Until the seamstress completes your clothing, you may wear your own attire. Whatever you deem suitable. I trust your judgment. Oh, and perhaps you should purchase some new shoes.”

Melinda looked down at the scuffed leather that peeked out from beneath her hem. “I promise you, I will.”

Melinda could barely contain her delight. For a brief moment, she considered skipping across the shiny Minton tile. Though she found it impossible to hide her bright smile, she squared her shoulders like a lady and held her head high. If she began skipping, Mr. Zimmerman might reconsider his choice.

Emma and Melinda had descended the outer stairs to the clubhouse when Melinda spotted Evan with a man she'd never before seen. Excited, she waved to him, but he turned away. Surprised, she quickened her pace and headed toward the men, but Emma grabbed her arm. “I wouldn't be interrupting Evan right now. That's Mr. Hubbard, our first guest of the season. I heard Evan and Harland chattin' this mornin', and these are some kind of important talks. Mr. Hubbard is here as a guest, but it's business he's handlin', as well.”

Melinda understood she must heed Emma's advice. To interrupt Evan during business wouldn't be proper. She longed to tell him her news, but it would need to wait until later. “What kind of business? Do you know?”

Emma locked arms and leaned closer. “One of the maids overheard them talkin' in the main parlor afore they went outside. She says they were talkin' about the golf course needin' to be completed before the middle of March and that they hired some special fella that's to meet with Evan up in Savannah.”

Melinda gasped. “In Savannah? When?”

“Daisy says he's leavin' tomorrow.”

“For how long?” Melinda knew Daisy quite well. Much like the Mifflins' maid, Sally, Daisy enjoyed listening in on any conversation and repeating every word she heard. It mattered little whether it was the hired help, fishermen, or guests. She thought any snippet of conversation worth a listen—and worth repeating, too. No doubt she'd stationed herself outside the main parlor and listened to the entire conversation. Though she didn't approve of Daisy's behavior, Melinda wanted to know all the maid had discovered.

Emma shrugged. “She didn't say, but she did tell me there was talk that the golf course had to be bigger and better than the one on Jekyl Island because of some very special event in March.”

“I don't see how that's going to be possible,” Melinda said. “And what event could be so important that they'd have to complete the golf course? There are enough activities that I'd think the men could get by with just the putting greens for another season.”

“You know how these rich folks can be. What they want, they want—and they want it right now.”

Melinda did know. In fact, the words stung her a bit. Once again, she could see how her disgruntled attitude mirrored that of her former employers. She drew a deep breath and tried to dismiss any thoughts of unfairness this new demand would create.

Still, it didn't seem possible that after all Evan had done to prepare for the season, he'd now be expected to have a golf course ready by mid-March. If he was going to be at the beck and call of guests and board members every minute of every day, maybe securing Harland's job wasn't going to be so wonderful. Maybe they needed to discuss an adjustment to their plans.

Although he hadn't missed a word Mr. Hubbard had uttered, Evan saw Melinda's excited wave when she and Emma crossed the lawn in front of the clubhouse earlier in the morning. He'd also observed her look of surprise when he hadn't acknowledged her, but he knew Mr. Hubbard wouldn't be pleased by an interruption, especially one of a personal nature. However, the moment he and Mr. Hubbard parted company, Evan went in search of her. He wanted to explain and apologize, but he couldn't find Melinda; he found only Daisy.

The maid was on her way to the Harrison cottage, located not far from the clubhouse, and she had been more than pleased to share news of Melinda. “She and Miss Emma have gone over to Biscayne to purchase supplies. Of course, I get to stay here and work. The Harrison family arrives tomorrow, and they want their cottage aired and readied for their arrival.” She shifted her basket of cleaning supplies from one hand to the other. “You'd think Miss Emma would let us take turns going over to Biscayne for supplies, but it's always Melinda that gets to go along. 'Course we all know they're friends, so we've gotten used to Miss Emma playing favorites.”

Daisy's comments surprised him, for she knew he and Melinda planned to wed. Had she simply forgotten his relationship to Melinda, or was she hoping he'd repeat her comments to Emma and perhaps help her cause? He had to admit that he frequently misunderstood the ways of women. Melinda was one of the few women he'd ever understood, and even then it wasn't always easy. Like most men, Melinda usually conversed in a frank and straightforward manner, while other women he'd known beat around the bush. Still, there were days when he felt at odds to comprehend his beloved's thinking.

He decided it best to ignore the maid's critical remarks. “Did you happen to hear them say when they would return?”

“Not until close to suppertime, from the sounds of it. They both had long lists to fill—at least that's what they said.” She came to a halt in front of the Harrison cottage. “'Course, Miss Emma has plenty of friends over in Biscayne, so they may be stopping to have a cup of tea and some biscuits while they're
shopping.
” She leaned down and pulled some weeds from the side of the stone path leading to the door. “Looks like one of the gardeners needs to get over here and pull some weeds before morning. Can't expect me to clean both inside and out.”

Although there were few weeds and little trimming was needed, Evan agreed. “I'll send someone over straightaway. Don't you worry about the shrubs or the yard.”

She hiked a shoulder and tipped her nose toward the sky. “I didn't intend to.” Before Evan turned to leave, she grasped the sleeve of his jacket. “I'm guessing you're wanting to talk to Melinda about all the time she spent in Mr. Zimmerman's office early this morning.” She gave him an exaggerated wink. “Or maybe you already know?”

He shook his head. “I didn't know she met with Mr. Zimmerman this morning.”

Daisy nudged him in the side. “If you wasn't so good looking, I'd tell you to watch out for him.” She cackled as she withdrew a key from her pocket and ambled toward the cottage door.

Evan watched her walk away and then headed off. “Always looking to start something. If she can't find any gossip, she'll spin some of her own,” he muttered. Still, her words remained with him—not that he was worried about Mr. Zimmerman stealing Melinda's affections, but why had she been in his office this morning? Was she in some kind of trouble? He knew she performed her duties well, yet there was always the chance something could have gone wrong. Or perhaps the Mifflins had contacted Mr. Zimmerman and raised a fuss.

Though Evan knew it would do no good to worry, he clenched his jaw as he cut across the grassy area and hurried toward the lodge. When he spotted one of the gardeners working at the Brown cottage, he stopped and tucked his fingers in his mouth and let loose a shrill whistle. The older man looked up from the shrubs he'd been pruning and waved.

Evan cupped his hands to his mouth. “Need you to go over to the Harrison cottage and get the lawn and shrubs looking perfect. They arrive tomorrow.”

The gardener lifted his hat and waved it overhead. “Should be finished here in about fifteen minutes. I'll head over there next.”

Evan continued on his way to the barn, where he would stop and borrow one of the horses. Before departing for Savannah tomorrow, he wanted to take another look at the area that had been staked out for the golf course. From what Mr. Hubbard had told him, the specialist in Savannah wanted to do away with the plan they'd previously laid out and begin anew. Such an idea sounded foolish to Evan, especially since this specialist hadn't even seen the area they'd plotted.

Evan tromped up the steps of the hunting lodge and hoped Harland would be there. He knew the older man could offer some insight on how to best prepare for a meeting with the golf course specialist. He pushed open the door and stopped just inside. Delilah raced down the steps and greeted him with a yowling meow.

With a frown, he walked toward the cat. “What's the matter, girl? No one around to give you any attention?” He leaned down to pet her, but she ran up the steps, stopped at the top, and made another yowling noise. “What's wrong with you, Delilah? I offered to pet you and you ran off. I don't have time to chase after you.” He strode to the large desk and withdrew a tablet of paper. If he made some drawings of the plotted course as well as the surrounding land, perhaps it would help.

When Evan glanced upstairs, Delilah poked her head between the wood railing that ran the length of the upstairs hallway, yowled, and ran toward Harland's bedroom. He dropped the paper and pencil on the table and hurried up the steps. He couldn't tell if the cat was trying to tell him something or if she simply wanted his attention, but her behavior was unusual and baffled him.

“I'm coming, Delilah, and you'd better not have a dead mouse or bird up here, or I'm not going to be happy with you.” Evan took the stairs two at a time and stopped at the top of the steps. Delilah peeked around the corner of Harland's door—this time her meow sounded close to normal. Evan strode down the hall to the doorway. His breath caught when he spotted Harland lying on the bedroom floor.

“Harland!” Evan dropped to his knees and felt the older man's forehead. Uncertain what to do, he placed his hand on Harland's chest to see if he could feel him breathing. When he felt a slight movement of Harland's chest, he leaned close to his ear. “Can you hear me, Harland? Are you injured?”

The man groaned and his eyelids fluttered. Delilah rushed close to the other side of Harland's body, curled up beside him, and purred. “I don't think so. Don't know what happened.” He rolled to his side. “Help me onto the bed.”

“I don't know if I should move you. Something might be broken. Maybe I should get the doctor first.”

Harland pushed to his side, unwilling to wait any longer. “Nothing's broken, just help me up.”

Evan braced one leg along the bed's sideboard and carefully lifted Harland to the bed. There were small cuts along one side of his face where he'd hit the floor, and his cheek had already begun to bruise. “Do you know what happened? Did you trip on something? Do you think you fainted, or what?”

“I was feeling tired all morning and decided to come up here and rest for a while. When I got to the top of the steps, I was having some trouble getting my breath, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the floor.”

“I think I should go fetch the doctor. I know Emma isn't over at the house, but if Garrison's around the barn, I'll have him come and sit with you until we get back.”

“There's no need to go after Doc Faraday. I'm feeling fine now. You go on about whatever you were doing, and I'll rest for a while. I'll be good as new once I rest some. And I don't need anyone to come and sit with me. What's Garrison going to do? Pull up a chair and stare at me while I sleep?” A few wisps of hair fluttered around Harland's forehead as he shook his head. The white strands accentuated the stark pallor of the older man's complexion. “Garrison has work to do, and I'll not have him sit here doing nothing while you run off for a doctor I don't need.”

“This is one time I won't follow your orders, Harland. You may think you'll be fine, but I want to hear that from a doctor. Like it or not, I'm going to get Dr. Faraday.”

After fetching a glass of water and placing it near the bedside, Evan hurried to the barn. Garrison was nowhere in sight, but one of the young boys who helped in the barns poked his head from inside one of the stalls. “Are you wanting a horse, Mr. Evan?”

“Yes, but I'll see to saddling him. I need you to do something else for me.” It would take the boy far longer to saddle the horse than to do it himself. Besides, Harland couldn't complain quite so much if he sent the young fellow rather than Garrison to stay with him. As soon as Evan had explained what had happened, the boy took off on a run, his arms pumping as though he couldn't get to the lodge fast enough. Evan grinned as he saddled the horse. Sitting in a sickroom for a while would likely be a welcome relief for someone who spent the day mucking stalls.

Evan was well on his way to the infirmary when he realized that instead of riding for the doctor, he should have remained behind and sent the boy to fetch Dr. Faraday. He gritted his teeth and clenched the reins tight in his fist. After all, what could a young boy do if Harland suddenly had another attack of some sort?

He tightened his legs and nudged the horse to a gallop, thankful he didn't have much farther to go. The sound of the approaching horse must have alerted the doctor, for he came running outside as Evan arrived. Pulling back on the reins, he quickly explained.

“Sounds like it may be his heart acting up again. I'll get my bag and follow you in my buggy.”

“He has a heart problem?”

The doctor stopped on the porch. “He does. That's why I told him he needed to give up his work here on the island. I thought he was going to take my advice last year, but it seems he's determined to stay a while longer.”

Thoughts racing, Evan gave the left rein a tug and turned the horse back toward the path. His friend had remained at the island to help him, and now his health was suffering because of it. Why hadn't Harland told him? Evan silently chided himself. He knew why: Harland was a man who would lend a helping hand no matter the consequences to himself.

A quick reflection over the past months was enough to cause him shame. He'd noticed Harland slowing down, and on a couple of occasions he'd seen the older man clutch at his chest. Why had he willingly accepted Harland's feeble excuses? Why hadn't he pursued each occurrence and insisted upon more detailed answers from his friend? Evan knew exactly why. Losing Harland meant the investors might not offer him the position he wanted. Evan bowed his head. After all Harland had done for him, he'd been willing to pretend he hadn't noticed.

“Forgive me, Lord. How selfish I've been.” Evan muttered the prayer as he arrived back at the lodge. He ran upstairs, where Harland remained abed and the young boy sat near the window looking outdoors. Evan motioned to the boy, thanked him, and sent him back to the barn. Harland's eyes remained closed, and Evan lifted the chair, positioned it beside the bed, and sat down.

Harland raised an eyelid and peeked out at him. “You gonna sit there and watch me sleep?”

“Since you're awake, I don't guess I'll be watching you sleep. Besides, the doctor's on the way to check you. He tells me you've got heart problems and he told you a year ago to quit your job.” He leaned closer. “Why didn't you tell me, Harland? I'm finding it hard to forgive myself that you're suffering on my account.”

Harland flitted his hand. “I'm not suffering, and I didn't stay here only on your account. When the investors said they wanted me to stay until you were trained, I was flattered. Imagine, an old man like me being swayed by a few words of praise.” He shook his head. “I have only myself to blame for any harm I've done to myself, but I can tell you I have no regrets, Evan. I'm certain you'll be appointed to take my place so long as you keep your nose to the grindstone.”

“What's this I hear about my favorite patient taking a fall?” Dr. Faraday strode into the room and placed his black leather bag at the end of Harland's bed. “Not very good about following your doctor's orders, are you, Harland?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I may listen a little closer in the future, Doc.” He moved his head so he could see around the doctor. “Evan, you need to go check on that golf course. The doctor doesn't need your help and neither do I. Go take care of your job. That's an order.”

The doctor chuckled. “You're going to make him sorry he came to fetch me if you keep talking to him like that, Harland.”

Harland chuckled. “Sometimes that's the only way I can get him to listen.”

Evan gave a mock salute. “I'm on my way, but I'm counting on the doctor to provide me with a list of orders, and I'll expect you to follow every one of them.”

———

Evan tucked the paper and pen into his pocket before he departed the hunting lodge. He'd lost a great deal of time, but there was still plenty of daylight to accomplish his task. He hadn't gone far when he heard the sound of a horse's hooves following him. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of Lawrence approaching on Priceless Journey
.

Evan reined his horse to one side and permitted Lawrence to come alongside. “I thought you were keeping your horse on the other side of the island.”

“I am, but he likes to run, and I thought I'd give him a bit of exercise today. If there's no one out at the racetrack, I thought I'd take him out and see how he does.”

Evan squinted against the reflection of the sun on Lawrence's silver-trimmed saddle. “Did that fancy saddle come with the horse?”