To Honor and Trust (17 page)

Mrs. Bridgeport sat on the sofa and beamed at her son. “What do you think, Thomas? If Mr. Wesley has time for a daily lesson, would you object to giving up your tennis lessons for the remainder of the season?”

Thomas glanced back and forth between his mother and Callie. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

Mrs. Bridgeport shook her head. “Not at all, but I believe
the additional golf lessons will prove beneficial, and being on Bridal Veil provides an excellent opportunity.”

The boy appeared confused, but he didn't question his mother's decision. “If you think it's best, I don't mind. I like Mr. Wes and he's a good instructor.”

Mrs. Bridgeport sighed. “Then it's settled.”

Once Thomas left the room, Callie shook her head. “Not quite.”

“Whatever do you mean, Callie?”

“We don't know if Wesley has enough free time to offer Thomas lessons every day.”

The older woman stood and gestured toward the door. “Then you should go and ask him.”

“Now?” Callie arched her brows. She had planned to take the children to the beach.

“As my husband likes to say, ‘There's no time like the present.'” She hesitated on her way to the other room. “I'll tell Maude to look after the children while you're gone.”

Callie doubted Maude would be happy with that piece of news. The nanny had become accustomed to spending her afternoons with Jane and Lula. She didn't know how much help the woman actually provided, but she did enjoy their company and the tidbits they shared about their own lives. If Callie hurried, she could be back in half an hour.

She had almost reached the golf course when she considered the fact that Wes might be out on the golf course when she arrived. If so, there was no telling when he might return, and she certainly couldn't wait around all afternoon. Maude would be more than a little unhappy. If she couldn't speak to anyone, she'd have no choice but to leave a note—provided the caddie shack was unlocked.

Relief washed over when she wheeled her bike alongside the wooden structure. The door stood wide open. She strode inside and immediately spied an old gentleman cleaning his golf clubs. “I was hoping to speak to Mr. Townsend. Do you know where I might find him?”

The man looked at her from beneath bushy eyebrows. “You might try turning around.”

She spun around to see Wes grinning from the doorway. “Were you looking for me, Callie?”

“I was. I mean, I am. I mean, yes, I need to speak to you.” A burst of heat flooded her cheeks. Why was she acting like a silly schoolgirl?

“Why don't you follow me outside, and we'll sit on the bench near the live oak? There's a nice breeze.”

She followed him but didn't answer for fear she'd once again sound like a blathering fool. Using a towel he carried in his pocket to clean a ball or club when needed, he wiped the bench and waved his hand for her to be seated.

“What can I do for you? I didn't miss a lesson time, did I?”

His generous smile caused her heart to flutter. What was wrong with her? Her mouth turned dry, and she wondered if she could speak.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you ill?”

“No.” She croaked out the response and cleared her throat. “I-I've come to ask if you could possibly provide Thomas with golf lessons every afternoon instead of three days a week.” She sighed. Finally she'd been able to respond as though she hadn't lost her senses.

“I thought he was taking tennis lessons three days a week and golf lessons on the alternate three days. I think he'll be too tired for both golf and tennis three afternoons each week, don't you?”

“Mrs. Bridgeport has discontinued his tennis lessons.”

Wes rubbed his jaw. “I see. Any particular reason? Thomas said he'd been improving with his tennis.”

“I'm not at liberty to discuss the reason.” Mrs. Bridgeport hadn't given Callie specific orders not to tell, but it didn't seem proper to tell him the real reason.

“If you're willing to bring him at a different time on those extra three days, I could take him. We'd need to begin at three o'clock on those days, and we could stay right after lunch on the other three days—unless you want to switch and have them at three o'clock every day.”

“No. The alternating time is fine. I'm . . . I mean, we're . . . I mean Thomas will be pleased to know you can work with him every day.”

Wes chuckled. “And what about you?”

“Me?”

He nodded, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Are you pleased, too?”

She stood and smiled at him. “Yes, I believe I am.”

When Callie had requested daily golf lessons for Thomas, Wes had been delighted. Ever since dancing with Callie at the masked ball, he'd hoped to find some way to become better acquainted with her before he revealed his identity. Not that he'd given her a false name or told untruths about himself, but he hadn't been forthcoming about the fact that he was a guest at the clubhouse and a member of a wealthy family. Right now, he and Callie treated each other as equals, and he wanted it to remain that way. If she discovered his background, she would likely shy away from him. Worse yet, she might believe his desire to spend time with her was for less than honorable reasons.

Unlike some of his friends, Wes disliked the social distinctions that came with wealth. He'd known far too many men who used their money and position to mislead young women. Should Callie ever believe such of him, she would never speak to him again. And he needed more time with her. She was unlike any woman he'd ever met. With Callie, he could be himself. If he wanted to talk about golf, or botany, or his future, or God, she listened. Of course, he hadn't discussed his family or
his past. And he'd been careful to avoid asking questions about Callie's family or past, as well. When the proper opportunity arose, he would discuss those things with her, but right now he took pleasure in hearing about the Bridgeport children and her life in Indianapolis and whatever else she offered to share with him. Before he revealed the truth, he wanted to be certain they were on firm ground.

On the other hand, he worried she might discover his identity through a guest who knew him as the son of Howard and Blanche Townsend. For now, Wes counted himself fortunate that he and Callie had never encountered one another at the clubhouse. While the possibilities of that happening were endless, at least the Bridgeport and Townsend families had been scheduled at different seating times in the dining room. And since he'd taken the position of golf instructor, Wes had been able to avoid many of the social functions. That, in itself, was payment enough for his job as acting golf pro.

He strolled toward the caddie shack, his gaze fastened on the path. A smile formed the moment he caught sight of Callie and Thomas. Though he sensed there was always something that caused her to maintain a certain distance, she captured his interest like no other woman. On occasion, she would forget and drop all reserve. It was on those occasions that he could imagine spending his life with her. Over and over, he'd told himself he must temper his dreams of a future with Callie. Still, he hadn't forgotten her words when she'd requested additional lessons for Thomas. She'd told him she would be pleased to spend more time with him. Then again, her comment could have been an offhand courteous remark. Besides, once she knew of his past, she wouldn't want him. What woman desired a man who had proved himself a failure before he'd reached the age of thirty?

Callie parked her bicycle near the caddie shack and strode toward him. “A penny for your thoughts.”

Had he not known better, he would have thought she'd somehow been able to read his mind. He chuckled and shook his head. “I wouldn't consider taking your hard-earned money to hear my thoughts.”

“So you'll tell me for free?”

He wouldn't tell her exactly what he'd been thinking, but maybe he could use this opportunity to advantage. “I was wondering what attributes young women find desirable in a man.”

She stared at him for a moment and then chuckled. “If you would have asked me to guess what you'd been considering, that particular thought would never have crossed my mind.” She pushed a curl behind one ear. “I can't speak for other women, but I think the most important thing for a man or a woman is truthfulness. How else can you build trust in a relationship?”

Her answer hit him like a blow to the midsection. The response wasn't what he'd expected to hear. He was hiding the truth—but for all the right reasons. At least that's what he told himself. Would Callie find his reasons as altruistic?

“Look what I've got, Mr. Wes.” Thomas climbed off his bike and extended the club toward Wes. “My father was over in Biscayne. He said that since I'm taking golf lessons every day, I should have a sand iron.”

Wes turned to the boy, thankful for the interruption, for he didn't have a good answer to Callie's question.

“Have you been telling your father that you've been having a bit of trouble in the bunkers over the past week?”

Thomas bobbed his head.

“Well, I'm pleased he bought you a sand iron, but I'm
hoping you'll avoid the bunkers as much as possible.” Wes placed his arm across Thomas's shoulder. “You're going to be a fine golfer by the time you go off to boarding school. You need to get a little more loft to your ball at times, but so do I. We'll put that sand iron to work a little later. Right now, I'm going to help you and Miss Callie with your putting. Why don't you go inside and get your putter so we can begin?”

Thomas ran inside, and Callie stepped closer and smiled. “What about you, Wes? Do you think truthfulness builds trust in a relationship?”

He swallowed hard, wishing he'd never raised this topic. “I do think it is very important. I also believe that until you know someone quite well, it isn't necessary to divulge everything about your past.”

Her smile faded, and she appeared to contemplate his remark. “I suppose that's true enough. Except with dear friends, I don't share all of my deep, dark secrets.” She chuckled. “Still, if I wanted to develop a relationship with someone, I wouldn't lie.”

He hesitated. “Well, no. Not an outright lie, but if a question isn't asked, there's no need for an answer, right?”

“It would depend upon the relationship and the importance of the information, I suppose.” She tipped her head to the side. “For instance, if I had an interest in a man and he had an interest in me—and let's say this man had . . .” Callie hesitated.

Wes nodded. “Yes, go on.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “And let's say this man had already pledged his love to another woman. Whether asked or not, don't you think he would have an obligation to reveal the truth? After all, it would impact both of the relationships.”

“In that instance, I would definitely agree he should be forthright.”

When Callie appeared to relax, Wes wondered if something similar might have happened in her past. Yet, with her charm, abilities, and beauty, what fool would ever turn loose of her?

“I'm ready.” Thomas returned with his putter and headed for the links.

“Not out there, Thomas. There's a putting green down this way. We'll use that for practice right now.”

After they'd arrived at the putting green, Wes removed a putter from his bag and looked at Thomas. “Watch carefully. Once you have your grip, keep your eyes directly over the ball.” He looked up. “You should align the ball with your nose, and you can decide if you want to stand straight or crouch over a little, but remember, your arms must swing freely.”

Thomas assumed a position with his putter. “Like this?”

“That looks good. Now, when you get ready to stroke your putt, think about the pendulum in a clock.” Wes straightened and relaxed his stance. He moved his arm in front of him, mimicking a pendulum. “Like that pendulum, you want to keep your swing absolutely straight.”

Thomas nodded.

“Now, watch how I get ready and swing.” Wes addressed the ball, swung, and the three of them watched the ball as it dropped into the hole.

Thomas cheered. “My turn. Right?”

Wes nodded and placed the ball in position. “Remember, you need to judge your speed. The grass is very short on this putting green so that means your ball will travel faster.”

Thomas aligned his body, glanced at the cup, and swung. The ball rolled directly toward the cup, teetered on the edge, and finally dropped into the hole. Thomas looked at Wes and grinned.

“Excellent! Now let's see if Callie can do the same.” Wes waved her forward and watched as she spread her feet apart and hunched forward. “You need to straighten a bit or your arms won't swing free.” She nodded, straightened a bit, glanced at the hole, but then returned to her former position. “Wait, don't swing.”

Callie relaxed and waited as he approached. “I can't seem to find the proper position. I prefer bending more.”

Wes chuckled. “I noticed.” He stepped behind her. “Don't be alarmed, but I'm going to stand behind you and hold you in the proper position.”

A slight gasp escaped her lips when he placed his arms around her body and leaned forward to cover her hands.

“I hope you're not uncomfortable, but I think this will help.” He hesitated a moment. “Keep your eye on the ball, but straighten your back and shoulders until you are leaning against me.”

Although she held herself in a rigid line, she followed his instruction.

“You need to relax a little.”

“I'm trying.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I'm going to guide your arms in a straight line, and we'll hit the ball.”

“I'll try.”

“We'll do it together.” Wes could feel her discomfort as he guided her arms through the swing, but she didn't pull away.

The ball stopped far short of the cup, but Thomas applauded. “You did good, Miss Callie.”

She shook her head. “I'm afraid I didn't do all that well, Thomas.”

The boy pointed to another hole. “Let Mr. Wes show you again. I'll practice over here.”

“I think it's far more important you spend your time with Thomas. He's the one who truly needs to be well skilled when he goes off to boarding school.” She lowered her voice. “I know he hopes to make the golf team.”

“Thomas is doing quite well, and I am certain that by the time the season ends here on Bridal Veil, he'll be far superior to any of the boys his own age.” Wes pushed his hat back on his head. “On the other hand, you need a lot more attention than young Thomas.”

Her lips curved in a demure grin that set his heart racing. “Then I suppose I dare not refuse your assistance.”

On several occasions, Callie warned herself to take care. She'd grown increasingly fond of Wes. Each night she told herself it was nothing more than friendship and a shared interest in Thomas and his golf lessons. But deep down, she couldn't deny that she enjoyed his company and looked forward to seeing him each day. If she let her thoughts wander, she could even imagine more—much more. But then she would recall Matthew and the pain she'd suffered. When that occurred, she could push aside any idea of a future with Wes. Or with any other man, for that matter.

During their lesson today, Thomas had invited Wes to join them on an outing after their golf lesson. The boy hadn't requested Callie's permission to invite Wes, so there was little she could do about the arrangement. She could hardly withdraw an invitation she hadn't extended. Besides, the two girls liked Wes, and whenever he was with them, they learned some new lesson about nature.

Wes walked beside her as they returned to the caddie shack
after she and Thomas had completed their golf lessons. “Did you make plans to go anywhere special with the children today?”

“They mentioned the beach.”

“What about heading toward the more forested area so they can see some of the wildlife? Do you think they might enjoy that for a change?”

His idea pleased her. The children had asked about going to look for deer and wild turkey, but maintaining oversight of all three children in the denseness of the wooded areas had proved difficult in the past.

Lula was sitting on the front porch with the girls when Thomas and Callie returned home. Callie glanced toward the screen door. “Where's Maude?”

“She was feeling poorly. Said she had a headache. I knew you'd be home soon, so I told her to go and rest.”

“That was kind of you, Lula. Has Mrs. Bridgeport returned from her luncheon?”

The housekeeper gestured for Callie to sit down. Leaning close to Callie's ear, Lula maintained a watch on the front door. “She was all aflutter. Seems there's been some more of those robberies going on at the cottages. I told her she didn't need to worry none 'cause there's always someone here, but that didn't seem to set her mind at ease.”

“Did she say who had been robbed?”

Lula shook her head. “She didn't offer to tell me and I didn't ask.” Lula swatted at a fly that landed on her arm. “I got to agree that it does make a person nervous knowing there's a thief prowling around the island.”

“I'm sure we have nothing to worry about, Lula, but if you see any strangers, you let Mr. Bridgeport know.” Callie patted
the housekeeper's hand. “And please don't mention this where the children can hear. Such talk might frighten them.”

Lula tapped her finger against her lips. “Mum's the word where the little ones are concerned. You best be off. They're prancing around, eager to be on their way.”