To Have and To Hold (24 page)

Her thoughts continued to linger upon the possibility of marriage when she heard the front door open and the sound of Marshall's voice. Although he escorted Dr. Wahler to the door of Aunt Thora's room, he didn't enter.

Aunt Thora roused and her eyes fluttered open at the doctor's greeting. “I told Audrey I don't need no doctor. I'll be just fine.”

Dr. Wahler set his black leather bag on the bedside table and opened the clasp. “Why don't you let me be the judge of whether you need medical attention, Miss Thora? I'd like to put my medical training to good use.”

Thora grumbled as she readjusted the sheet. “Well, if you put it that way, I suppose I can't refuse. A man should earn his keep.”

“I'm most grateful, Miss Thora.” He removed his stethoscope and placed the flared ebony disc against her chest while he listened through the ivory-tipped earpieces. When she opened her mouth to speak, he silenced her with an upraised hand.

Audrey remained close at hand throughout Thora's examination. When the doctor finished, she arched a brow. “Well? Is Aunt Thora as healthy as she tells us?”

After a fleeting glance at Audrey, the doctor returned his attention to Thora. He grasped her hand and gave a slight shake of his head. “I'm afraid your heart is giving out, Thora. You need to slow down and spend most of your time in bed. Rest is the best medicine for you. And before you give me any arguments, let me say that I know both Irene and Audrey are more than capable of handling things without you.”

Wisps of white hair fanned the pillow as Thora shifted her head to the side. “So you're sayin' I'm not worth my salt? You think the work will get done without me—is that what you're sayin'?”

The doctor chuckled. “Not at all. But you do need to slow down. And getting excited isn't good for your heart. You need to remain calm.” He gently patted her hand.

Thora yanked away as if she'd been seared by a hot iron. “I'm not a small child that needs to be coddled.” She flitted her hand toward the door. “Go take care of someone who is in real need of a doctor.”

If Thora had offended the doctor, he didn't let on. He bid them good-bye but was quick to tell Thora he'd return for a visit the next day. Her lips drooped in a frown, but she didn't object. Though Thora wouldn't admit the doctor was correct in his diagnosis, she'd obviously taken some of what he said to heart, for Audrey detected a hint of fear lurking in her eyes.

“Everything is going to be fine, Aunt Thora. Irene and I can manage. And if you're a good patient and rest, perhaps the doctor will permit you to come and sit in the kitchen and keep us company for a few hours next week.”

Thora pointed at the Bible sitting on a table near the window. “I think it would help me to hear some Scripture. Do you have time to sit for a minute and read? I'm not certain I can manage to hold my Bible and read if I'm to remain flat in this bed.”

Audrey smiled. The doctor hadn't said she had to remain flat in bed. And had the older woman asked, Audrey would have propped her pillows so that she could read. However, it was obvious Thora was frightened and wanted someone with her for a while longer. Whether she waved a shotgun or merely used her sharp tongue, Aunt Thora had always appeared confident and bold. But Audrey now realized the old woman wasn't completely fearless.

She picked up the Bible and sat down near the bed. “I have more than enough time to sit with you, Aunt Thora. Is there anything in particular that you'd like me to read?”

“I've always been fond of Psalms or Proverbs when I'm feeling a little anxious. Whatever you read will be just fine.”

Audrey opened Thora's Bible to the book of Proverbs. After settling back in the chair, she began to read the third chapter and lingered over the fifth and sixth verses. “ ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.' ”

“That's a hard one,” Thora murmured. She picked at a loose string along the hem of her sheet. “I know God is a better judge of what's best for us, but trusting with your whole heart—that's a hard one for me.” There was a slight twinkle in her eyes when she looked at Audrey. “I do my best to pray and ask God to guide me, but I'm not always so quick to give in if His answer don't meet up with what I think is best. After all these years, it seems I still haven't learned to completely trust Him.”

“How do you know when it's what you want and when it's what the Lord wants?”

Thora shifted to her side. “Well, the best way I can explain it is that once I've prayed, I'll get a nudging deep inside that let's me know if I'm headed in the right direction or the wrong one. Usually the wrong direction is the one I'd like to take.” She cackled and shook her head. “The good Lord has had a time trying to teach me, that's for sure. Probably why I'm still on this earth. There's just too much that still needs fixing.”

Audrey didn't think that was true. Aunt Thora might be feisty and determined, but she had a good heart. Still, maybe there was something to learning to lean on the Lord. She certainly didn't depend upon God to lead her in her own decisions. Maybe if she'd depend upon God, He'd show her if Marshall was a man she could trust—someone she could count on and grow old with. She stared at the open Bible. Was Marshall the man God intended for her? Maybe she should ask.

Chapter 22

As Audrey hastened into the kitchen the following morning, she wondered how long it might take before she received that inner nudge Aunt Thora had mentioned. After her one-way conversation with God last night, she was eager to receive His answer. She'd been careful to let God know she'd prefer a plan that included Marshall Graham but excluded Bridal Veil Island. If God didn't agree, she wasn't sure she'd be as eager to receive that inner nudge.

She glanced up when Irene returned from the henhouse with a basket of eggs. “Good morning, Irene. I trust you slept well.”

“As good as I ever sleep what with Miss Thora and her snoring. I can hear her through the walls.” She pointed to the basket. “Don't plan on eggs this morning. Hens aren't laying very well. Must be the colder weather. Either that or those little girls have returned and helped themselves.”

Audrey chuckled. “I don't think the twins will try that again. Dr. Wahler let them know that raising baby chicks was not going to be a part of their future.” She lifted a crock of cornmeal to the table. “I can mix up a batch of cornmeal griddle cakes. The men enjoy those.”

“Especially Marshall?” Irene grinned, her eyes alight with mischief.

“What's that supposed to mean?” A blush of heat stole across Audrey's cheeks.

Irene giggled. “You know what it means. I saw you two in the parlor. I think love is such a grand thing.” The girl's skirt billowed as she twirled across the kitchen before bumping her hip into the heavy oak cupboard. “Ouch!” After an angry glare at the wooden structure, Irene rubbed her side. “That hurt!”

“I'm certain it did, but perhaps you shouldn't attempt to dance in the kitchen. This room is too small for such a performance.” Audrey smiled and shook her head. Irene could brighten any cloudy day, but she could also slow down the progression of work with her antics. Still, having her help had been a genuine blessing. And now, with Aunt Thora unable to work, Audrey would need Irene's assistance even more.

Not heeding Audrey's admonition and obviously forgetting her injured hip, Irene did a half skip, half dance back across the kitchen. “Has Marshall asked you to marry him? He's very good-looking.” Irene lifted several eggs from the basket. “And you're beautiful, as well,” she hastily added. “A wedding would be a lovely diversion after all the sadness . . .” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . .”

“It's quite all right, Irene. We have experienced our share of sadness lately; what with my father's death, all the problems and delays at the construction site, and now Thora's illness. However, I don't think there will be a wedding anytime soon.”

The girl's smile faded. “Oh-h-h. So he didn't ask for your hand?”

If nothing else, the girl was persistent. “We've mentioned the possibility, but there's nothing definite.”

“But he loves you, and you love him?” She danced from foot to foot like a child awaiting a special treat.

Though she realized Irene meant no harm with her questions, Audrey's muscles tightened. She wasn't certain how much she wanted to share at the moment. After all, she was awaiting that nudge from God before making any final decisions about her future. “We care for each other, and we are seeking God's direction for the future.”

“Well, I think God is going to agree with your father. This is all working out just like your papa wanted.” Irene picked up a knife and began to slice thick pieces of bacon.

Audrey stopped stirring the batter and stared at the girl. “Whatever do you mean?”

Irene hitched a shoulder. “I shouldn't tell you, but one day when I was dusting upstairs, I heard your papa and Marshall talking. It was before your papa got so terrible sick—back when he enjoyed company in his room.” She hesitated. “You aren't going to get angry at me for eavesdropping, are you?”

Audrey sighed. She didn't want a commentary on her father's final illness. She wanted to hear about the conversation between her father and Marshall. “I'm not going to get angry, just get on with it and tell me, Irene. What did my father say?” She picked up the spoon and continued to stir.

“We-l-l-l.” As if she feared that someone else might be listening to her admission, Irene drew close to Audrey's side. “Your papa told Marshall that he wanted him to look out for you. That he would be a perfect choice to help you. Your papa said he could die in peace if he knew you had Marshall to take care of you.”

Audrey's jaw went slack and the mixing spoon clattered against the edge of the bowl. Irene started, and Audrey forced a faint smile as she picked up the spoon and forced herself to continue. For a fleeting moment, she felt as though she might be dreaming, but as Irene's comment slowly entered her consciousness, she knew this was real. Like autumn leaves in a strong breeze, questions flitted through Audrey's mind, yet she remained silent.

Taking Audrey's silence as a cue to continue, Irene set aside the slices of bacon. “I just find it astounding that your father could choose a husband for you and that you would fall in love with that very man. Honestly, how often do you think that would ever happen? There are lots of girls, especially the wealthy ones, who have to marry a man to increase the family fortune or name.” Her lips puckered into a frown. “I hope Mr. Morley doesn't force June to marry someone she doesn't love. His daughter is such a sweet thing, and I know she could never refuse her father.”

Audrey pointed to the skillet. “The bacon isn't going to fry itself, and the men will be late for work if we don't hurry.”

After a brief look of confusion, Irene giggled and placed the sliced bacon in the skillet. “Do you think Mr. Morley would force June into a marriage?”

“I truly don't know, Irene, but we need not worry over it right now. It will be years before June is of a marriageable age.”

While Irene continued her aimless chatter, Audrey's thoughts returned to Marshall. Had his talk of marriage been nothing more than the fulfillment of a promise to her father? She couldn't imagine the two of them concocting such a scheme. Yet the entire tale was too farfetched to be a misunderstanding.

“Must be a real comfort to you, Audrey.” Irene's lips curved in a sweet smile as she lifted the sizzling bacon from the skillet and dropped the slices onto a china platter.

Audrey wasn't certain if it was the heat from the skillet or Irene's voice that drew her from her thoughts. “What must be a comfort?”

“The fact that even on his deathbed your papa was making sure you'd be taken care of by a good man.” Irene set the skillet back on the stove. The girl's gaze roamed toward the windows and the huge live oaks in the distance. “If the two of you marry, will Marshall become the owner of Bridal Fair?” A gleam of excitement shone in her eyes. “Do you suppose Marshall will want to sell Bridal Fair to Mr. Morley for a lot of money? That's enough to make a man want to marry, don't you think?”

Audrey arched her brows. “Indeed, I suppose it is.”

“Ohh, I didn't mean to imply you're not a woman that any man would be delighted to call his wife.” The girl fumbled for words as she placed the last of the bacon into the hot skillet. “You're absolutely lovely, and you know how to take care of a house and operate this business.”

A tidal wave of humiliation washed over Audrey. The mere idea that her father may have struck such an agreement with Marshall caused her stomach to lurch. “Why don't you take breakfast to Aunt Thora while I finish up in here.”

“Are you sure? There's still a lot to get done before the men come downstairs.”

“Yes, I'm sure. And please stay with her to see that she eats. Otherwise, she won't regain her strength.”

Irene prepared Thora's plate and scuttled off toward the bedroom while Audrey's thoughts returned to Marshall and her father. She knew her father had convinced Marshall to come to Bridal Veil Island, but it had been to give her father an opportunity to explain the circumstances surrounding Wilbur Graham's death—hadn't it? That's what both Marshall and her father had said. And she had believed them! Irene was likely correct. There had to be something more to all of this. Was Marshall interested in gaining Bridal Fair and selling it for a tidy sum? After all, he'd mentioned selling it to the investors. The money would certainly prove an excellent resource to finance his new life in Colorado. That must be it. He'd seen her as an opportunity to finance his new life and had quickly accepted her father's offer.

Stop!
The word slammed through her consciousness like a hammer striking iron and brought her rambling assumptions to a halt. Wasn't this what she'd done before? Jumped to incorrect conclusions about Marshall? And hadn't she regretted it?

She closed her eyes. Before she went any further with these outlandish thoughts, she needed to clear the air and speak with Marshall. Tell him she wanted nothing more than his honesty—that she wouldn't judge him for any agreements he'd made with her father. That final thought might not have been absolutely true, for she didn't like the idea that Marshall and her father had struck some sort of deal that included her. But if she wanted the truth, she needed to remain calm—and give Marshall an opportunity to defend himself.

Sounds of the men clattering down the stairs stirred her from further thoughts of her father, Marshall, or their secret plan. She needed to hurry if she was going to complete breakfast preparations and get the men off to work on time.

While she served breakfast, Audrey did her best to calm herself. She didn't want to appear strident when she spoke to Marshall. Although it probably wasn't actually the case, today it seemed as if the men were lingering over their coffee longer than usual, but as several of them slipped away from the table, she approached Marshall.

“If you have time, I'd like to speak with you.”

He dropped his napkin on the table and nodded. “I need to get to the work site, but I can always spare a few minutes for you.” His lips curved in a broad smile.

She nodded toward the parlor, and he followed close on her heels. She didn't mince words once they were away from the two remaining men. “It has come to my attention that you and my father may have entered into some sort of arrangement—one that included your marriage to me.”

His smile broadened. “Indeed we did.”

She gasped at his quick admission. Why, he seemed downright proud of what they'd done. “You aren't even going to attempt a denial?”

“No, why would I? Your father harbored a great deal of concern about your future, Audrey.”

“And he asked you to take care of me?”

“He did. And I told him it would be my privilege, if you would agree to such an arrangement.”

“I can't believe you would agree to such a thing.” Her heartbeat increased until she thought it would thump its way right out of her chest. How dare he!

“I don't see why you're so upset. Your father loved you and was simply doing the best thing possible to provide for your future care. He wanted to provide for you in the best way possible.”

“Provide for me? And what about you? Was he providing for you, as well?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Trying to provide for me need not have included a marriage proposal. Are you looking out for me or for yourself, Marshall?”

He frowned and glanced toward the door. “This entire conversation makes no sense. Unfortunately, I need to get to work. We can talk this evening.”

“If you consider your work more important than resolving this matter, you go right ahead.” Audrey gathered her skirts and turned on her heel. So now discussing his marriage proposal was a waste of time. She rushed off before he could say anything further.

Marshall maintained a close watch on Audrey throughout the evening meal, but she wouldn't so much as glance in his direction. He had hoped to catch her eye and at least give her a look of assurance and signal her to meet him after supper.