A Path Toward Love (13 page)

Hope curved her lips into a smile. “Yes, I'd like that.” She studied the lake and then looked back toward him. “I love your optimism, Andrew. I wish I had some of it.”

He wished he had more of it himself. His spirits had plummeted with Randy's cavalier announcement about his claim on her. “Katherine, may I speak frankly?”

She nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“I know I shouldn't give you advice about marriage, but I want you to be happy. So . . . contrary to what everyone says, I don't think a common background or a lifelong friendship is enough to make a marriage work. I mean—”

“I know exactly what you mean, and I agree. But please don't worry I'll make another mistake. Believe me, marriage is the furthest thing from my mind.”

Relief rushed through him. Andrew felt in the deepest, most honest place in his heart that Randy and Katherine weren't meant for each other.

He'd have to fight for her. But did she have any romantic feelings for him? He couldn't tell. He suspected she considered him merely an old, reliable friend just like Randy, not a possible suitor. If he pursued her, he'd most definitely lose his position at her father's railroad and the approval of the Clarkes, the only family he had left. It gave him pause.

His personal life and fledgling career rested on making the right decision. They stood by the railing for a long while gazing at the sailboats skimming through the waves. He felt content to stand by her side, absorbing the warmth of the sun on his hands and face, and inhaling the sweetness of her perfume.

“Katherine, my dear, you are a vision of beauty.” At the sound of Randy's voice, Andrew and Katherine both turned. Randy extended his arm, and with a flourish, presented her with a bouquet of red roses. Dressed in an informal sack suit and crisp white shirt, Randy looked every inch the eligible bachelor ready to court.

“Randy, it's wonderful to see you again.” She accepted the bouquet and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers.”

His mouth curled in a raffish grin. “They're not half as lovely as you.” He stepped away from her, perusing her from head to toe. “Florida has agreed with you, Kat. You're thin, but more comely than ever.”

“You're still the flatterer. How is your poison ivy? Any better?”

“The itch is driving me mad. But shall we go for a canoe ride anyway? I need a distraction.”

“I'd love to,” she answered. “Let me put these flowers in water, then change.”

Andrew watched Katherine emerge five minutes later wearing a faded, violet print dress she might have borrowed from her maid. But in the Adirondacks the ladies wore old, casual clothes, except to dinner. Not that she needed a Parisian outfit to showcase her beauty or catch a beau. After a gust of wind threatened to send her straw hat over the deck railing, she squashed it onto her upswept hair and repinned it, wincing as she stuck the long pin against her scalp.

“Shall we go?” she asked, already striding the length of the walkway, with Randy following close behind.

Andrew hung back as the couple sauntered down the walkway toward the tree-studded back lawn. The desire to win her heart bloomed in his own, but he hesitated. No true gentleman would tag along and insert himself where he wasn't wanted. Still, he'd not be left behind unless he was sure she wished it. He was just about to call out when she turned and looked his way, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Aren't you coming, Andrew?”

He noted a scowl from Randy behind her, but ignored it. “I'd love a jaunt out on the lake.” Andrew took long strides to catch up, unable to hide his pleasure.

They descended the steps to the small patch of back lawn, wound their way through the rock garden, and passed the gardener. Katherine strolled between Randy and Andrew, following the dirt path to the fieldstone boathouse. Randy's mouth twisted in a petulant and persistent glower. He might be the most confident of suitors, but he still hated competition of any sort. It gave Andrew a curious sort of pleasure to be the source of his agitation.

Two small sailboats and several other small craft rested on the shore. Andrew helped Katherine into one of the long wooden guide boats painted forest green on the hull. Its interior shone with a fresh coat of shiny varnish. “Would you mind rowing?” Randy asked Andrew.

“Not at all,” Andrew said. Although a guide boat resembled a canoe, it was rowed, not paddled. He climbed in the center and settled between the long, graceful oars.

Refusing assistance, Katherine scrambled into the stern. Randy took the seat in the bow.

Andrew steered the boat through the water toward Loon Island, a small dollop of land covered with tangled trees and brush, and edged with a strip of golden brown sand. The oars dipped into the clear lake and they glided into deep water. The waves rippled from the breeze and slapped lightly against the hull.

Katherine leaned forward on the cane-backed chair. “Do you remember when we all came to the island as kids? We called ourselves the Three Musketeers. We brought a picnic lunch and you two ate almost all of it. My mother thought I was quite fast, stepping out with two boys without a chaperone.” Her laugh nearly drowned the cry of a gull swooping down on a small fish. “I was all of twelve years old, but she was already worried about how everything appeared.”

Andrew nodded, smiling with her. “I don't think I've ever had more fun. Or ate more delicious food. Fried chicken, fresh bread, chocolate cupcakes with white icing . . .”

She tried unsuccessfully to hide a sardonic smile by glancing down and shielding her face with her hat brim. “You two finished all the really good food and left me with only a few sour pickles.”

Andrew recalled the memory of Katherine's outrage when she found they'd left her only a dill pickle and half a cucumber sandwich. “We still need to make it up to you.”

“Yes, you should. I'm sure you two gentlemen are far more gallant now than you were all those years ago.”

“Sorry, I can't vouch for Randy, but I shall certainly try to be more polite.”

Katherine threw back her head and laughed heartily. “You always were such a dear friend, Andrew.”

Heat blasted through his skin. She met his eyes and tilted her head, as if she just now realized his great fondness for her. As they drew closer to the island, his face cooled and he felt better—more in control. He hated how she affected him. Yet he loved it as well. His insides shook with delight and discomfort at the same time.

He rowed the guide boat to a narrow strip of coarse sand just as the sun slid behind a mass of gathering clouds. He helped Katherine off the boat and then pulled it up and onto the pebblestrewn beach.

“Shall we hike to the other side of the island?” Her gaze slid from him to Randy.

“That sounds like a fine idea. Let's go,” Andrew agreed.

Randy put up a hand. “Wait a second. No hiking for me. This island's covered in poison ivy. I don't want any more than I already have. Why don't you stay down here with me?”

“We could keep to the paths,” Andrew said. “But it's up to Katherine.” He glanced her way, hoping she would choose to take a walk and leave Randy behind.

“Come on, Katherine, don't wear yourself out hiking.”

Randy dropped onto a large, smooth rock and patted the space beside him.

She shook her head. “No, I'd like to walk up the trail for a bit, stretch my legs. After all those days on the train, I'd welcome the exercise. But please, go ahead and rest.” She planted her hands on her hips and grinned at his expression. “Don't pout. I promise we won't be gone long.”

Staring upward, Randy frowned. “Look at the sky. It's going to rain soon. Perhaps we ought to just head back to camp now.”

“We'll hurry.” Katherine turned and followed Andrew, who quickly hid his smile.

Andrew led the way up a path that skirted the edge of the island. After they'd turned a corner, he grabbed her hand under the pretense that she needed help as the terrain had steepened and grown rough with roots and stones. Overhanging branches dipped in the freshening breeze and brushed their faces and arms.

“Stay on the inside of the path,” he warned as they continued to climb. “We don't want to run across any of Randy's dreaded ivy. And that's a sheer drop to the lake.”

She squeezed his hand. “I'll be very careful. But I don't remember this path being quite so treacherous. Do you think I'm losing my nerve now that I'm older?”

“I doubt it.”

They finished their climb in silence until they came to a clearing on the far side of the island. Stepping back from the path onto an open spot, they watched canoes rock and sailboats tip in the mounting breeze.

“I'd forgotten,” she said, panting, “how breathtaking it is.”

He looked across the lake to the large, rustic camps surrounded by acres of woodlands and rounded mountains dotted with evergreens and hardwoods.

Some of the New York millionaires had purchased enormous tracks of Adirondack wilderness for their summer retreats, far from the noise and pollution of the city. And then they built railroads for easy transport of their families, friends, and goods. He'd never own such a great camp himself, but he felt thankful he could enjoy the Wainwrights'. How many young men with only moderate incomes and modest inheritances even got to see places like this, let alone stay for an extended amount of time? He was a fortunate fellow. Andrew removed his cap and felt a light wind brush through his hair.

“I missed this place,” Katherine admitted as she gazed at the royal blue water. “I didn't realize how very much.” She spoke like a pensive old lady who reveled in her most treasured memories of times long past. He smiled.

“I'm glad my father came for me. I didn't understand I was more than ready to come home. I hope I'll feel the same way a month from now.”

“Just relax, Katherine. Give yourself time to adjust.”
Heal. Find hope again
.

“I shall. If my mother will allow me that time.” She held her straw hat on her head so the stiff breeze wouldn't lift it off. “Mama and your aunt Georgia expect me to marry Randy.”

“I've always known that. Didn't you?” Andrew held his breath, waiting for more from her. Did she welcome that plan?

Katherine shrugged. “I suppose I knew, but I didn't know they were still holding out hope until Mama hinted at it today.”

“Katherine, before you decide who you want to marry—”

“As I told you, there's no need to worry, Andrew. I don't want to marry anyone,” she said, staring at him with a quizzical expression that drew her brows together. “I'm returning home to Florida.”

Andrew frowned. “Nevertheless, your parents might press you. But before you pick a husband, you should pray about the Lord's plan for your life. And then ask for the courage to follow it.” He looked away before she read too much in his expression. He knew exactly what he'd like God's plan to be, but that was more likely a pipe dream than a reflection of the Lord's will.

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Do you pray?”

“Of course I pray!”

“But what do you pray for?”

Obviously befuddled, she paused. “Well, I pray for everyone's well-being, for happiness, for guidance that I'll do the right thing. What else
would
I pray for?”

“You could also ask the Lord to show you what He has in mind for you to do with your life.”

Katherine looked skeptical. “You don't think He wants me to become a missionary, do you? I can't imagine traipsing off to Africa or China. It's a splendid ministry, but certainly not for me. I'm quite sure of that.”

Andrew laughed. “I agree. I can't quite imagine you're meant for the mission field.”

She tilted her head and smiled. “Some would say the wilds of Florida are practically a mission field.”

He smiled with her. “The Lord wants each of us to listen for His voice.”

“Then I'll have to listen better, because I'm afraid I don't hear Him very clearly. But tell me, Andrew, what does He have in mind for you?”

Taken aback, he hesitated for a few moments. “Right now it's to work for your father. But I don't know what the future holds. The Lord may send me off in an entirely different direction.”

“And you believe He'll tell you which road you should take?” She sounded more doubtful than he would've liked.

“Yes, I do, although it might not be the one I'd choose for myself.” He was open to a change in plans, though he hadn't received any hint he'd be sent down a new road.

“Hmm. Well, you've given me a lot to think about, and pray about.”

Andrew pointed toward the fat clouds rapidly turning from pearl gray to charcoal. The wind stiffened and clouds began to thicken. “Look at the sky. We'd better start home. We'll have to hurry before the rain starts.” A distant boom of thunder quickened his step.

She followed close behind. “I agree. I'd hate to look like a drowned rat on my first day home.”