Eleven

“Mima, what do you mean, Papá ran out of the house looking for Señor Southard?”

“What have you done, Niña?”

“Nothing, I swear. We spoke privately, but no one saw us, I’m sure of it.” Isabella’s entire body started to shake. She’d seen her father this angry once before. She’d never known what happened that time. He and her mother never spoke about it again, at least not in front of her.

“When?”

“The other night. I couldn’t sleep, so I took a walk. He found me at the beach.”

Yolanda pulled Isabella down to sit beside her. “I asked you to tell me if you started to feel—”

“I know, Mima,” Isabella broke in. “But I can control my feelings. They aren’t at the place where I cannot.”

“If your father has heard about you and Señor Southard, you do realize you will be engaged?”

“Sí.” Oh, Lord, please let it not be so. If Richard and I are meant to be together, please don’t have it happen in this way. I would never know if he truly loved me or was just being an honorable man.

“I’m not going to be working for Richard more than a single day a week. Señor Bower also has some bookwork that he’d like me to do.”

“Have you failed Señor Richard?”

“No, Mima, but I can’t talk to you about his personal finances.”

“Oh, sí, I understand.” Yolanda held her daughter’s hand. “Do you love him?”

“I don’t know. I’m attracted to him, but how can you love a man when you can’t even talk to him to get to know him?”

“There are ways,” Yolanda winked.

“Mima, what are you saying?”

“That even within our culture there are ways to learn about a man before one is courted by him.”

“How? Please tell me. I don’t want to bring dishonor to you and to Papá.”

Yolanda chuckled. “I suppose I’ve been remiss from teaching you the ways of learning about men. But you’ve never seemed interested before. Richard is special, no?”

“Sí, Mima, very special.” And her feelings for him were growing day by day.

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve watched him and how he relates to others, how he’s conducted his business. He’s a very fair man.”

“Perhaps you don’t need your mother’s instructions at all.” Yolanda grinned.

“Oh, Mima, please tell me. How can I get to know Señor Richard without bringing dishonor to the family?”

“If you haven’t already, you mean.”

Isabella’s stomach prickled as if she’d swallowed a sea urchin whole.

“If your father is not already upset with Señor Richard, then you should continue to observe him, as you’ve been doing. How he relates to other people in good and bad situations shows how he will relate to a wife. This is not always the case, of course. There are men who put up a wonderful image in public, but in private would beat their wives or worse. But I don’t believe Señor Richard would be this way.”

“Oh no, Mima, he’s very kind. He waits on Cook as if she were his grandmother. I walked in on him praying for Cook. There were tears in his eyes.”

“Sí, this is what I mean by observing. How does he react to situations? You’ve been with him when Manuel insisted his boat be used as collateral; you saw how he responded. You know more than most about his personal finances. How does he handle his money?”

Isabella opened her mouth to tell her mother once again that she could not share such knowledge.

Yolanda raised her hand. “No, Dear, I was not asking you to tell me. Examine for yourself how he handles his money. Where he spends it reveals his heart.”

Isabella thought of the generous loans he’d made to some of the men on Key West. Of how well he paid his workers. . .yes, he was a generous man. And seldom did he purchase items for himself. Almost all of his expenses were for the business or his home. “Sí, Mima, he has a good heart, a generous heart.”

“Bien. Now, when you decide this man is the man you would like to court, you need to approach your papá and me. Your papá will decide if he is worthy of your affections.”

“But Mima, we live in America now. Can’t I decide for myself?”

“Haven’t you already? By letting us know you are interested in Señor Richard, haven’t you told us your heart?”

“Sí, but—”

“Hush, Niña. Trust your papá and me. We will pray. I have already begun.”

“Oh, Mima, I don’t know. I’m so confused. To have Richard near me. . .my bones soften like a jellyfish.”

“Ah, then I suggest you decide quickly. Courtship takes time.”

“But Señor Richard—he isn’t ready for courtship. He’s a busy man.”

Yolanda raised her right eyebrow. Her rich black hair, pulled back, accented her hazelnut complexion. “You have spoken with Señor Richard about such matters?”

❧

“Señor Richard, what do you have to be sorry for? It is my cousin Manuel I am angry with. I have heard he wants to sell your ship, is it true?”

“He has a buyer, yes.” Richard relaxed his stance. I guess I won’t be getting married today, he silently thanked the Lord. Although the idea of having someone as warm and passionate as Isabella for a wife was not a discomforting thought.

“I will go to Cuba and I will speak with my cousin.” Emile planted his hands firmly on his hips. The man was ready for war. Richard couldn’t help but be pleased that Emile wanted to fight for him and not against him.

“No, it isn’t necessary. Manuel won’t sell the boat until the thirty days are up. He assured me in his letter he wouldn’t be doing that.”

“He should not hold you responsible for other men’s debts. It is not fair.”

“I signed the paper knowing the risk. Unfortunately, some of the men who owe the money do not have the cash to pay their bills in full within that thirty days.” Not to mention the debts some owed him.

“Is it true that your fleet of sponge boats was stolen last night?”

“Yes.”

Emile wagged his head. “I’ve never understood stealing.”

“It isn’t something I could imagine doing, either.” Except for that time when he was six years old and stole a pocket full of penny candy from Old Man Bennett’s store. Richard unconsciously rubbed his backside from the memory. Uncle Ellis made certain he would never steal again.

“I shall ask my friends and see if anyone has some boats to sell.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the funds to purchase any additional skiffs at the moment. Perhaps after I get a shipment of sponges off to market, then I will be able to.”

“Was your money in the bank that burned down?”

“No.” Thank the Lord for that blessing. “But the cost of the building supplies has stretched my resources.”

Emile rubbed the day’s growth on his chin. “Perhaps some of my friends can loan you a boat.”

“I won’t be turning down an offer like that. If you find someone, have them come to my house and we will make arrangements.”

“Sí, I can do that. It’s the least I can do for the way my family has treated you.”

Without waiting for a response from Richard, Emile marched back toward town with the same determined steps.

Richard blew out a relieved breath. That was close. He would have to be more careful with Isabella. His business was on the brink of failure; meanwhile, he was spending his free moments remembering the lily of the ruins, her long wavy black hair cascading down her shoulders and back.

Stop it, he chastised himself. He didn’t have time for daydreaming.

“Richard,” Mo called. The huge black man came toward him with giant strides. Mo was head and shoulders taller than most men, but he also had the most tender heart Richard had ever seen in a man.

“Mo, what brings you here?”

“I’ve been lookin’ for you. I brought my boat to your dock; it’s fully loaded with some sponges. I went out and brought in a haul. Benjamin came out with me and lent me a hand. I’m hopin’ we have enough time to go out again.”

“You went out and brought in a haul?” He didn’t know why this should surprise him. Mo had always been a valuable employee.

“Just did what a man ought to, given the situation. If we get these sponges soakin’, we might be able to have a good haul to go out with Bower’s ship first part of next week.”

“I hope so. We need the money.”

“I figured you’d be hard pressed soon. Don’t understand why those folks who owe you aren’t borrowin’ the money from the banks and payin’ ye back. Don’t make sense.”

“I didn’t ask them to.”

“Ye shouldn’t have to. A man should just do it.” Mo nodded his head once for emphasis, and Richard knew that was the end of the matter.

“Let’s get to the docks and unload your skiff.”

“I’m sure Ben has it all done by now. But he and I need to be gettin’ out there if we’re going to take in another haul today.”

Richard looked at the placement of the sun. They had about four hours until sunset. “Tell you what, if you go out again, promise me you’ll be back before sunset whether your nets are full or not.”

“That won’t be a problem. Ben’s wife, Edith, would be none to pleased if we weren’t back before then.”

Richard chuckled. There were advantages to being single. A man was his own man. He could do what he wanted, when he wanted it, and didn’t have to fret over being home at a certain time or not.

“I’ll have these rinsed and ready for drying by the time you get back.”

Mo waved as he stepped down into the small sailing skiff. With the late afternoon breeze, Mo and Ben would be out to the harvesting area in a much shorter time. Richard rubbed the kinks out of the back of his neck. Perhaps he should consider changing the type of vessels he used to gather the sponges. The small steam engines they were making now could enhance a craft’s ability to get the workers out to the gathering area each day.

“Enough dreaming,” he muttered. “If you don’t get to work, you aren’t going to have the money to buy anything.”

Several hours later, he pulled at the net heavily laden with damp sea sponges. Placing it on the center of the dock, he began to squeeze the seawater out in order to put them in the fresh water tanks.

“Lord, help me. I don’t know what to do regarding the business. Should I sell it while there is something to sell?”

Isabella worked her fingers over the dress she’d been trying to sew all afternoon. Anything to try and keep herself busy and her mind not on her father’s anger. “How could he have found out?” she murmured.

She nibbled her lower lip. Did she know enough about Richard to want to pursue a relationship with him? She’d skirted around her mother’s question. But her mother was a wise woman; she knew Isabella had talked with Richard about such personal matters. The hurt she saw in her mother’s eyes bothered her. At the time, speaking with Richard didn’t feel wrong, but she now knew she had injured her parents. “Oh, Lord, if Papá finds out, we’ll be married before nightfall.”

She pushed the needle through the delicate lace she was attaching to the collar of her new dress. This would be a dress for church and social occasions; it was far too feminine for work. If she wore it to work, her mother would be convinced she was hunting for a husband.

But do I really want a husband now? She put the dress down and began to pace back and forth beside her bed. Richard’s handsome face, his golden curls, and his blue-gray eyes came into focus in her mind. She sighed. To be married to Richard wouldn’t be a chore. It would be a blessing, an honor.

But he’s not ready for romance. He’s too busy working for his family. And would he be moving back to New York once his family returned? Is that why he doesn’t want to get involved, because he knows he’s not going to stay in the area? Isabella twisted her hands.

“Isabella,” her father called.

She stepped toward her bedroom door and opened it. “Si, Papá. I’m here.” She braced herself, holding the knob. Her knees started to shake. “What do you need?”

“Come here, please,” he called from the front room.

Isabella took in a deep breath and eased it out slowly. Her moment of truth had arrived. With great effort she forced herself to move forward, one foot at a time. She rounded the corner of the hallway to find only her father sitting on the sofa. He seemed calmer. And Richard was nowhere to be seen. Tentatively, she stepped into the front room.

“Si, Papá.”

“Come, sit with me. I have something I need to discuss with you.” He patted the cushion on the sofa next to him.

Lord, help me. Give me the right words to speak, she silently prayed and sat down beside her father.

He cupped her hand into his. “I have to ask you something.”

His rich, dark brown eyes scanned her own. “Sí, Papá?”

Yolanda came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron.

“It concerns Señor Southard.”

Isabella swallowed hard and looked to her mother for support. Yolanda put her hand to her chest and sat down on the rocker. “Emile,” she whispered.

Her father’s gaze shifted to her mother’s, then back again to Isabella, and slowly back to his wife. “What are you not telling me, Yolanda?”

“Nothing.” Yolanda looked to the floor.

“I’m worried for Señor Southard,” Emile continued. “Manuel has told him he is selling the boat at the end of the month, that he has a buyer for it. Did you know this?”

“Sí, Papá, but I couldn’t tell you about Señor Richard’s business affairs.”

“I understand that. . .Richard? You call Señor Southard, Richard?” His voice raised a fraction.

“Sí, Papá. He asked us to on his ship.” She prayed that was answer enough for her father. Yolanda rocked back in her chair.

“Is Manuel selling Richard’s boat what got you so upset earlier?” Isabella nervously asked.

“Sí, I cannot believe he would do such a thing.” Emile turned back to Isabella. “This is what I wanted to speak with you about. Richard mentioned his finances were tight. How bad is it?”

“Oh, Papá, I don’t believe I should say.”

He held his hands up. “No, no, not the dollar amount, but is he in trouble?”

“I should not say. But I will say I will only be working for him one day a week now.” There, she hadn’t exposed Richard’s finances but merely stated the truth of her current job status.

“I figured he was in trouble. He has not started to rebuild his warehouse. What of all the monies he brought to Cuba?”

“Oh, Papá, he’s a generous man. Do not ask me such information.” Isabella bit her lips. Her father shouldn’t be putting her in this position.

He tapped her knee. “I only ask to see if I can lend a hand. I feel responsible for my cousin’s actions. How he conducts his business affects the entire family. I will not share Señor Southard’s financial situation with anyone. I did hear someone has offered him a loan to get his boat back.”

“Offer? Huh! I would not call that an offer—more like a businessman’s thievery.” Isabella had read Marc Dabney’s offer. There was much she didn’t understand, but when she did the math, the interest was horrendous.

“I’m not surprised, if it is the man I have heard made the offer.”

Yolanda leaned forward in the rocker. “What can we do?”