CHAPTER 23

While Evan rode toward the golf course, he attempted to focus upon the work that needed to be completed that day. But instead of creating a mental picture of where to assign his workers, he recalled all that had gone wrong with Melinda during the past week. He’d done his best to convince her that Victoria Polter’s riding lessons were no more than a job—the same as his work at the golf course or tracking different species of game available for the hunters. Unfortunately, he’d failed to sway her. After Victoria had personally visited Melinda’s office to schedule more riding lessons, Evan’s explanations had fallen upon deaf ears, even though he’d told her Mr. Morley had given him no choice. The investor’s instructions had been clear: Accommodate Victoria’s requests for riding lessons. And Victoria’s requests had been abundant.

With each new appointment, Evan received a crisp note from Melinda that said nothing more than the date and the time, along with the words Riding lesson for Victoria—never Miss Polter—always Victoria. The pointed use of Miss Polter’s first name hadn’t escaped him. And though he would never tell Melinda, Miss Polter presented a number of challenges. After their first lesson, her young brother had been scheduled for a different time and with a different instructor—all at Victoria’s request. Another fact that wouldn’t have escaped Melinda’s notice, for Melinda scheduled the lessons.

Evan guided the horse onward, his attention drawn to a patch of wild flowers in hues of scarlet and purple. For a moment he considered stopping to pick some for Melinda but soon changed his mind. By day’s end they would be wilted. Besides, he had no idea when he’d see her. How he wished he could schedule time with Melinda rather than Victoria.

With each lesson Victoria acted more familiar, and he became more uncomfortable. So much so that Evan asked some of the younger lads to remain close by when Victoria was present in the barn or corral. Of course, once the two of them were out on a trail or riding along the beach, he had little choice if she asked to stop and rest. During those times, he did his best to keep his horse between them, though he’d not always been successful.

To make matters worse, Mr. Morley had never allotted Evan additional time off. His promotion had not been forthcoming, yet his duties and work hours continued to multiply—and so did his frustration. Still, he had no recourse. If he was going to wed Melinda, he needed that promotion, and he couldn’t refuse assigned duties or offer objections. Though he had hoped Melinda would understand, their brief encounters over the past week or two revealed she’d lost patience. He understood her frustration, for he experienced the same disappointment. Yet his concern had heightened when he’d seen Preston Powers standing close to Melinda while she directed a group of children in a croquet game on the lawn of the clubhouse.

Evan’s time with her had been relegated to Sunday morning church services and a brief visit afterward. Although Sunday was a day of rest for most, it was not so for the workers of Bridal Veil—at least not during the season. Meals and planned activities were still expected to commence on Sunday afternoons and evenings. For Evan, it meant work at the golf greens. The special event planned for mid-March required completion of the course. Although Mr. Morley had finally secured a monthly bonus for Evan, if he didn’t succeed, the possibility of securing Harland’s old position and a permanent increase in wages would diminish. Mr. Morley hadn’t specifically said those words, but the investor was keeping a close eye on the project—and on Evan.

After issuing instructions to the workers, Evan mounted his horse and rode back toward the lodge for yet another riding lesson with Victoria. How he wished these interruptions could be avoided.

His thoughts scattered in a thousand directions. There was so much that must be completed over the next several weeks and he prayed the weather would remain favorable. Otherwise, they didn’t stand a chance of completing the course. He reined in the horse as he entered the corral and dismounted.

Paul came to the door of the barn. “Miss Polter is waiting inside. She wasn’t happy that you weren’t already here. I went ahead and saddled her usual horse.”

“Thank you, Paul. Everything else going well today?”

The boy shoved his hand into his pants pocket and withdrew a shiny coin. He grinned and held it aloft. “Couldn’t be better, Mr. Evan. Look what I got from one of the gentlemen.”

Evan congratulated the boy. “Looks like you’re pleasing the guests. When they give you a tip, it means you gave them exceptional service, Paul.” He patted him on the shoulder.

“I didn’t do much of anything for him, but he was happy with what I told him.”

Confused, Evan stopped and looked at the boy. “What is it that you told him?”

Paul hiked a shoulder. “He said he saw a man out riding a beautiful horse. He described Mr. Lawrence’s horse and said he came over to the barn to see it.” Paul took hold of the horse’s reins and walked him toward Evan. “I told him we didn’t keep that horse at our barn.”

“What else did he ask?” The fact that someone had come to the barn asking about Lawrence’s horse heightened Evan’s attentiveness. He hadn’t truly understood Lawrence’s reasoning for stabling the horse away from the barn.

“Wanted to know the horse’s name and where we keep him stabled.”

Evan’s heart thumped like a beating drum, yet he couldn’t understand his strange reaction. Lawrence had papers on the horse and said everything was in order. There was no reason for concern. Still, he’d said he didn’t want anyone around the horse.

“What did you tell him, Paul?”

“The truth. I don’t know where Mr. Lawrence keeps the horse. I said the horse’s name was Priceless Journey. When I told him the horse’s name, he looked kind of disappointed and left. Did I do wrong, Mr. Evan? Should I give him his money back?”

“No, Paul. You keep the money—you did fine.”

Evan strode toward the lodge. He’d take Victoria for her riding lesson, but he doubted his thoughts would be on anything other than Lawrence and Priceless Journey. Victoria hurried over to him the moment he stepped into the lodge.

“There you are, you naughty boy.” She tightened her lips into a moue and tapped his chest with her index finger. “I don’t like it when I’m kept waiting. Especially by you.” She stepped closer, leaving a mere inch between them. When Evan took a backward step, she moved forward. “I’ve missed you, Evan, and when you’re late for our time together, it causes me to believe you don’t care about me.” She formed her lips into another pout. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to speak with Mr. Morley, would you?”

Evan stared down at the young woman. How he wished to tell her he detested being controlled by the whims of a spoiled young woman—but he knew such a comment would result in unwanted repercussions. “I do have other duties that need my attention, Miss Polter.”

She leaned in and rested her palms against his chest. “Victoria,” she whispered. Before he could move, she raised up on her toes and kissed him full on the mouth. “Perhaps that will help you remember my name.”

She nearly fell when Evan abruptly backed away from her. Evan glanced toward the door, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. What if Melinda had been nearby and observed the scene? She would never forgive him. “I am your riding instructor. Nothing more and nothing less. Please don’t do that again.”

Victoria giggled. “Your lips say no, but I believe your heart will soon say yes, Evan.”

“Melinda!”

At the sound of the familiar voice, Melinda spun on her heel and came face-to-face with Mrs. Mifflin. She clasped a hand to her bodice. “Mrs. Mifflin. H-h-how good to see you.” She did her best to sound pleased but feared her voice had betrayed her.

Mrs. Mifflin gave her a feeble smile. “You need not fib to me, Melinda. I imagine you feel quite the opposite.” Her former mistress stared at her open hand, still resting on the bodice of her shirtwaist. “I don’t see a ring on your finger. I do hope your fellow—Evan wasn’t it? I do hope he wasn’t injured in the hurricane.”

She tried to reply, but her lips wouldn’t move.

“I don’t blame you for being angry with me. I was unduly harsh when you departed. I owe you an apology.” She cleared her throat. “Cyrus will be the first to tell you that I don’t apologize often, but when I do, it comes from the heart.”

The room momentarily swirled and she wondered if she might faint. Today’s schedule had been hectic. She’d arranged and overseen a surprise birthday party for a set of ten-year-old twins that had included lunch, outdoor games, and birthday cake. Following that exhausting event, she’d hurried indoors to make certain supplies and easels had been set up for the ladies enrolled in painting classes. Each class was followed by a sumptuous tea, which also required Melinda’s oversight. She couldn’t be sure if the ladies enjoyed the painting classes, but all of them delighted in the extravagant array of tea and pastries offered after the sessions. In all of the rush, she’d failed to eat lunch. And then she’d been surprised by Mrs. Mifflin and her uncharacteristic apology. No wonder she felt light-headed.

Melinda snatched one of the activity sheets from a nearby table and fanned herself. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little faint. I failed to take time for lunch today.” She couldn’t decide if Mrs. Mifflin’s wrinkled forehead was due to concern or irritation.

The older woman grasped Melinda’s elbow and propelled her toward a couch in the small parlor. “Do sit down before you fall down.” The moment she was seated, Mrs. Mifflin motioned to a maid passing through the outer foyer. “Bring me a glass of water and a sandwich.” Before the girl could respond, Mrs. Mifflin waved her off. “And be quick about it.” Removing her gloves, she settled on the divan beside Melinda. “Now tell me about Evan and your marriage—or lack thereof.”

“I’m not married, but Evan is fine. He wasn’t injured in the hurricane.”

Mrs. Mifflin dropped her gloves onto her lap. “Then why aren’t you married? I thought that was the plan when you made your hasty departure.”

“Evan thinks it’s better if we wait until—”

“When Cyrus received word that you were being considered for this position, I was certain that the young man had backed out on his proposal. I don’t want to say I told you so, but I did tell you that young men who work in these places are not the marrying kind. They’ll tell a girl most anything in order to—”

“Mrs. Mifflin! Evan is not like that at all.” The moment she’d uttered the words of defense, a picture of Victoria and Evan came to mind and taunted her.

The older woman’s lips drooped into a frown. “Then explain why there isn’t a wedding ring on your finger.”

With thoughts of Victoria dancing in her head, Melinda’s explanation sounded hollow, and Mrs. Mifflin didn’t fail to read between the lines.

“Forgive me, Melinda, but you don’t look or sound like a young woman planning for marriage in a month or two.”

“That’s because Evan hasn’t received his promotion, and we have no idea when or if that will happen. The circumstances are difficult. He’s dependent upon the investors to make the decision.” The thought of Victoria clutching Evan’s arm flashed to mind, and Melinda leaned against the back of the couch.

Mrs. Mifflin picked up her gloves and flapped them in front of Melinda’s face like two limp fans. “You’ve become pale again. Please don’t faint. You know I’m not good at dealing with illness.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Where is that maid with the water and sandwich?” As if on cue, the girl rounded the corner carrying a tray. Mrs. Mifflin heaved a sigh. “Good heavens, it’s about time you got here. A person could die of thirst.”

The girl gave a tiny curtsy as she placed the tray on the nearby table. Her eyes shone with fear when she glanced at Melinda. “Thank you, Molly.” The maid leaned down to pour water into the glass. “We can take care of the water.” Melinda smiled, hoping to set the girl at ease. Melinda turned to Mrs. Mifflin as Molly scurried off. “It’s her first week. She’s trying very hard.”

“Well, if anyone understands the difficulty of locating good help, it’s me.” The older woman poured water into one of the stemmed water goblets and handed it to Melinda. “Do take a drink and then eat.” With a stern look, she motioned toward the sandwich. “I insist.”

Melinda let the cool water slide down her throat. She should be reviewing tomorrow’s events with Chef Bickerstaff, but Mrs. Mifflin would cause a scene if she attempted to excuse herself. Besides, she didn’t think her legs would hold her if she attempted to stand up.

She lifted the silver dome from atop the sandwich. “I’m going to feel rude eating in front of you.”

Mrs. Mifflin picked up the linen napkin, snapped it open, and settled it across Melinda’s lap. “I hope you don’t expect me to feed you.” She picked up the plate and placed it on the napkin. “I’ll talk while you eat.”

Melinda wasn’t certain she liked that idea. No telling what Mrs. Mifflin had on her mind. She’d best deflect her. Otherwise, the older woman would use the time to further berate Evan and her. She picked up a piece of the sandwich and held it between her fingers. “How is Sally? I’ve had only one letter from her since I left, although I’ve written her several times.”

Mrs. Mifflin straightened as though she’d been poked with a hatpin. “Sally?” The question had obviously disturbed her train of thought. “Oh, she’s doing fine. She’s far too busy reading everyone else’s mail to take time to write her own letters. And of course she’s still busy passing gossip from one servant to the next. I never could trust Sally to keep a confidence. Unfortunately, I still can’t.” She frowned as she uttered the comment. She pointed at the sandwich. “Keep eating.”

Melinda dutifully took a bite of the sandwich. She hoped Mr. Zimmerman didn’t choose to walk through the front portion of the clubhouse any time soon. The sight of his leisure activities manager sitting in the parlor nibbling a sandwich and sipping water wouldn’t set well with the supervisor.

“While you’re eating, I want to make you a proposition. Please don’t answer right away. I want you to take time and think before you respond. Will you do that?”

Melinda bobbed her head and pointed to her mouth. Why did the woman instruct her to eat and then ask questions?

“Ever since you left Cleveland, I have been struggling with one lady’s maid after another. Heaven knows I’ve done everything possible to be kind and to give them opportunity to learn, but it has proved impossible.” She pointed to her head. “If you could see my hair beneath this hat, you would be appalled by the mess. I can’t find one maid who can fashion my hair. I end up with some hideous style, or the minute I walk out of the room, the pins are falling and so is my coiffure.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I need you to return, Melinda. I will double your wages. You would be paid more than any other lady’s maid in all of Cleveland. And I promise that in addition to Sundays off, I’d permit you two, no three, additional days a month off work.” She bowed her head and stared at her hands. “And I promise I’ll do my best to treat you with much greater kindness. I truly want you to return, and I hope that you’ll consider my offer.”

Melinda gulped hard to force down the piece of sandwich now lodged in her throat. Had it not been for the pain in her throat, she would have believed she was in the midst of a strange dream. She picked up the plate and moved it back onto the tray before wiping the corners of her mouth with the napkin. “Thank you very much for your kind offer, Mrs. Mifflin, but—”

She held up her hand. “You promised you wouldn’t give an immediate answer. I want you to take several days to think about my proposal.” She patted Melinda’s hand. “You should thoroughly consider not only what I’ve offered but your future here at Bridal Veil. I don’t want to be negative, but it does seem that your young suitor isn’t as intent upon marriage as you are.”

The words scorched her heart like a hot branding iron. Thankfully, Mrs. Mifflin didn’t want to hear any further defense of Evan’s position, for Melinda had already begun to wonder about Evan’s commitment to her. Did his delay hinge upon the offer of Harland’s old position or upon his hope for time to win Victoria?