Thomas handed the butler their cards. The butler took them then invited them to wait while he went to announce them.
Would Miss O’Hara even admit them?
Thomas’s stomach churned and he pressed a hand against it while waiting for the butler to return. It seemed to be taking a while. Was he about to be turned away from this home, having left it only an hour before?
He needed to undo the damage Pauline had intentionally done, and then tell Bessie she wouldn’t be going home with him after all. At least not now, and likely not ever. On the way over, he’d stopped to send a telegram to her father. He had to believe that the man would find some way out of this fiasco without ruining her reputation. Thomas’s reputation, on the other hand, was of no account. Pauline had already destroyed it, first by publicly humiliating him in Europe, then by flaunting his perceived sins around their peers. His wants and desires didn’t factor into this decision, although yes, he did want a second chance at love—with Bessie. He sighed heavily.
“Don’t worry so much. With God, all things are possible,” Archie said quietly.
With God, all things are possible. If only Thomas could believe it. But then, who was Archie to talk about trusting God when he and Mrs. Stout had taken it upon themselves to make sure Thomas married instead of waiting for God to move when He was ready? If Archie and Mrs. Stout had left him alone, Thomas wouldn’t be trying to make amends now. He was not grateful for their interference. Not in the least.
Unless, of course, Miss O’Hara decided to honor their marriage contract.
And then—then he might be tempted to throw a party in their honor.
Archie bowed his head. Could he be praying?
If God was listening, it’d be wise for Thomas to pray, too. He bowed his head. Oh, Lord, my Lord… Did those words assume an intimacy that wasn’t there? Nausea built. If You hear me, please—
“Follow me, please,” the butler said, likely not realizing why the two men were bowing their heads before him. If he had, he surely wouldn’t interrupt a long-overdue conversation with God.
Fine, talking with God would come later. At some point, He and Thomas somehow had to get over their impasse.
Thomas swept off his hat and bowed slightly as he entered the room where the ladies still sat. His eyes sought Bessie, but a loud gasp interrupted him.
He jerked his gaze toward Miss Everson, who paled. A glass toppled to the floor, splattering water all over the oak boards.
“We’re all going to die!” She slumped against the seat, her fan flapping only a little slower than a hummingbird’s wings.
Thomas blinked. “I see my greatly exaggerated reputation has preceded me.”
Bessie giggled.
Maybe she didn’t believe the worst of him. Maybe there was a spark of hope that she’d want to make the marriage work.
She approached them, a smile lighting her eyes. “I’m glad you came. Would you like some tea?”
Not especially. What was it with this infernal offering of tea when he called? He may be half Brit, but he didn’t inherit the necessary genes that would make him a die-hard tea drinker. “Thank you, no. I just had some at the manse.” And if he drank any more in the next twenty-four hours, the Boston Tea Party would be reenacted on Mackinac Island.
“I do hope you’ve come with some sort of explanation.” Mrs. O’Hara speared him with a glare. “But do sit down.”
Archie dropped into a wingback chair.
Thomas sat in the chair closest to the piano. “Yes, ma’am. First of all, I took it upon myself to send a telegram to Mr. O’Hara, informing him of this emergency situation. Secondly, it seems you’ve been served a heaping helping of lies. Miss Chapman and I have never been and will never be engaged.”
Miss Johnson gasped. Or was it Miss Everson? He wasn’t sure.
“We did cohort with the same group of peers, and I did briefly court her, but a year ago we had a very public breakup over my refusal to follow her father’s demands.”
Despite the fact that she’d not been summoned, the maid bustled in with tea.
Thomas pressed his lips together, accepted the cup and saucer as gracefully as he could, and set it down beside him on the bench. Then he looked at Bessie. “I won’t ask you to come home with me tonight.”
She withdrew, her expression shuttering.
“I need to speak to your father first.”
She nodded, her smile returning.
“Her father will agree with me. The marriage will be annulled,” Mrs. O’Hara said.
Thomas nodded and looked back at Bessie. “If he doesn’t, or if it can’t be done, I want his blessing. He needs to know who I am and decide for himself if I am worthy of his daughter.”
Bessie’s gaze softened.
“What about the spy accusations? I’m tempted to tell President Roosevelt where he can find you so he can take you off to prison.” Miss Johnson firmed her shoulders, her voice hard.
Archie chuckled. Bessie leaned forward—as if this point concerned her somewhat. Maybe she had considerable worries after all.
Thomas was tempted to roll his eyes. “Yes, Miss Johnson, but those are unfounded lies. I am not now nor have I ever been a spy. The truth is my father owns Hale Mining Company of Marquette. One of the metals we mine is iron ore. Because I sold iron ore to a German company who then sold it to the South Africans fighting the British, Miss Chapman somehow made the incorrect assumption that I’m a spy. Or perhaps she purposely devised the story. But despite the scandalous rumors she started, the reality is not quite so exciting, I’m afraid.”
Thomas glanced at Archie and saw the staunch support there, and then he looked at Bessie and found boldness and freedom in telling the truth.
“We’re not going to die?” Miss Everson’s fan slowed.
Miss Johnson slumped. “You’re not a spy? We’re not going to be applauded in Washington at a big gala? We won’t be the belles of the country?”
Bessie could barely contain another giggle at those absurd questions from Henrietta and Rosella and the confused expressions passing over both men’s faces.
They exchanged glances, and then Mr. Hale stood. The cup rattled in the saucer on the bench, but he didn’t look at it. “You aren’t going to die at our hands, Miss Everson. And Miss Johnson, all three of you lovely ladies are undoubtedly the belles of the nation. But if you’ll excuse us, we’ll take our leave. I just wanted to make sure you knew the truth, so you wouldn’t be tempted to believe the rumors longer than you already have.”
“Thomas is an upstanding man and my best friend.” Mr. Asparagus stood also. “I came along with him to tell you, Miss O’Hara, that I’m sorry for my part in this whole fiasco. I did want Thomas to stop hiding from society and to marry. When I saw his immediate and unprecedented reaction to you, I did a quick appraisal of your character. I discovered only good things about you. You are the woman God intended for him. I have no doubt of it. However, I should have let God handle it rather than forcing His hand. But I am going to use some of the photos to advertise my resort, with your permission. The rest will go into an album as my wedding gift to you both.”
Bessie stood and extended her hand to Mr. Asparagus. “Thank you for your kind words.” She released him and turned to Thomas, taking one of his hands in both of hers. “And thank you for coming by and putting the rumors to rest.”
For an insane second she wanted to offer to go with him after all, but Father needed to know and to bless their union first. If he would.
Thomas folded his other hand over hers. “I should have addressed the issue when I first came to Mackinac Island a year ago instead of becoming a hermit. But I was convinced God didn’t hear me, and the breakup with Miss Chapman was ugly, humiliating, and devastating. I needed time to heal. I hadn’t even told Archie. But honestly, I’d like the rumors and lies to die. It seems a bit belated to handle them at this stage.”
“I admire your courage in talking about it now.” Truly, she did. The way he’d handled the situation spoke volumes about him. Thomas was shaping up to be a man she’d be proud to call her husband.
Unless, of course, he publicly lost his temper and berated delivery boys on the street.
But he hadn’t even gotten angry over the wedding fiasco. He contacted her father, wanting his advice and approval. He treated her with kindness, respect, and, oh, the way he looked at her made her long to be his wife.
Thomas bent over her hand, brushed his lips over her knuckles, then straightened and left the room, taking her heart with him.
Thomas glanced at his best friend as they rode away from the O’Hara house, toward the side of the island where Archie lived. Archie had sent his own driver home when he decided to ride with Thomas on his errands. It made sense, since Thomas’s home lay beyond Archie’s.
“I am sorry for interfering.” Archie apologized again as he had at the Stouts’ manse. “I shouldn’t have. And I surely didn’t mean to cause this big mess—not for Miss O’Hara, and certainly never for you. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I just let Mrs. Stout sweep me in when I mentioned your attraction to Miss O’Hara and my plans for a reenactment. We spoke of how wonderful it would be if it were real and things just went from there. But with the silly Pauline saying you’re a spy and that you might kill people, the rumors just snowballed.”
Thomas nodded. Despite how crazy and out of control the rumors were after Pauline spread her story, they had easily folded under the truth. His ego and infatuation had truly been out of control as well. But God had saved him from Pauline, using a vision of a dream girl he couldn’t help but compare to the poison of a society viper.
“Out of control. Quite so.” He looked out the window, catching glimpses of Lake Huron as they passed by beautiful cottages and homes. He didn’t want Bessie to be forced into this marriage, with the idea that she had to or be ruined. But, oh, he wanted her with every fiber of his being. Ever since he first laid eyes on her at the ferry, something about her made him take notice. And he knew she was the one, the fuzzy vision he’d dreamed of since he was old enough to notice women, to think about marriage, to dream of a future with a woman.
And with that in mind, why, why, why had he allowed Pauline to draw him into her web? She really had been like a poison, a substance he couldn’t get enough of, but that in the end had almost destroyed him. She had caused him to believe himself abandoned by the one who had made him.
Why couldn’t he admit this to his best friend sitting beside him?
He didn’t know how to bring it up.
Maybe if he just blurted it out. He closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the censure. The judgment. “I’ve felt abandoned by God. I believed He couldn’t hear me, couldn’t see me, and didn’t care what happened to me so long as I stayed out of His way. I asked God to help me get Pauline to see the truth or to make her lies disappear. But they only got worse, and so I thought if God didn’t care enough to answer my prayers, then I wouldn’t care about Him. That if He wouldn’t help me, I’d save Him time and stop asking for help.”
Archie turned to look at him.
Jonas slowed the horse to a walk as they turned into the driveway in front of Archie’s house.
“Jonas told me that God is the God who sees me. He’s the God who hears me. That means He knew and cared what was best for me, even when I ignored Him. And it hit me that He’s the kind of God I want, the kind I need. A God who cares about the littlest thing that happens to me. And the one who gives me the woman of my dreams, even when I’ve turned my back on Him.”
From the driver’s seat Jonas nodded. “God loves you more than anything.”
His mother’s words when he left home replayed in his thoughts. “He more than cares, Tommy. He loves you. He loves you so much, you were the one He saw when He sent Jesus to earth as a little baby. You were the reason Jesus suffered and died. You were the one on His mind when He was resurrected from the dead, and He’s watching you from the right hand of God even as we speak. He’s given His angels special charge over you. He loves you beyond anything you could ever know.”
Thomas swallowed the lump in his throat. “I need to pray.”
The buggy came to a stop in front of Archie’s house as Thomas got onto his knees in front of his seat.