To Love and Cherish (11 page)

Her heart plummeted. She didn't know how they'd get from Savannah to Biscayne, but perhaps Lawrence would have some ideas. They'd have enough time that perhaps he could come up with a plan.

“That's fine. I'll take two tickets to Savannah.” Of course, she knew it had to be fine. She had no other choice. She paid for the tickets, located a porter to take care of her baggage, and began her search for Lawrence.

The clock struck the half hour and still there was no sign of Lawrence. She paced the station, looking in every direction, praying he would appear. As the clock ticked on, she walked to the front doors and out of the station. She'd turned to return inside when she saw a huge black horse racing toward the station at breakneck speed. The rider waved his hat overhead.

She stared at the sight, unable to believe her eyes. Was it? Could it be? She narrowed her eyes as horse and rider drew closer. It was! Lawrence was riding the horse like a jockey intent on winning a race. Moments later he was in front of the station, pulling back on the reins until the horse came to an abrupt halt.

Her brother grinned down at her. “I bet you thought I wasn't going to make it, but here I am.” He leaned forward and patted the horse's neck. “And this big fellow is coming along with us.”

Words failed her.

Three days had passed before Old Sam appeared at the hunting lodge. “Thought I better get across the river and see how you fared through the storm. I woulda come sooner, but things is a mess, and I've been waitin' to make sure the tides had settled for good.” He scratched his head and glanced about. “I took a look in the boathouse 'fore I came inland. Some of the boats took quite a beatin', but I was glad to see the dock wasn't damaged too bad. At least boats can tie up and folks can get on and off board.”

Harland nodded. “We've been down there to look things over, Sam. We'll get to the repairs as soon as we can, but right now, those boats aren't on the top of the list.”

In spite of Alfred's and Evan's best efforts, some of the launches belonging to the investors had been severely battered, and all had taken on water when several beams and three-quarters of one wall of the boathouse had given way.

“Come on in and sit down. We got a pot of coffee, and I'd like to hear what you can tell us about Biscayne.”

The fisherman followed Harland inside and settled in the sitting room. “The storm hit pretty bad, but it was worse further south. Least that's the news I'm hearin' from off the fishing boats coming in the past two days. There's no electricity and lots of damage along the wharves. The winds shifted away from Bridal Veil and slammed into us with more force.” He shook his head. “Lots of folks suffered big losses, but only two dead at last report.”

According to Sam, there were supplies available that hadn't been ruined in the storm, but after hearing the older man describe the loss and damage, Evan had his doubts. “We're going to need to hire workers. You think there will be any men wanting to work here on the island?” Evan arched his brows and waited. He worried most of the men would be hiring out in Biscayne.

“Don't think you'll have much problem. Be jest like all the other storms. Word spreads north, and men make their way down here 'cause they need money.” He took a drink of his coffee. “I'm jest glad to see things is all right here—or as good as they can be after a hurricane. If you fellas is wantin' to come over to Biscayne, I can come back and get ya in a day or two. Bring a list of the supplies you need. Should be plenty of workers coming in by then.”

Their list of needs would be long, and it certainly couldn't be filled in one order, but the man spoke with enough authority that Evan said he'd be thankful to have Sam return for them.

While they continued to visit, neither Evan nor Harland mentioned Alfred's death. The two of them had agreed they would deliver the news to his family themselves. But if Old Sam carried word there'd been no injuries or deaths on the island, Alfred's parents might receive that false report. If so, it would be a double cruelty for Evan and Harland to show up and deliver news of their son's death.

Evan finally decided he must say something before Sam departed. Relating the story took more out of him than he'd imagined. When he finished, his body ached as though he'd been beaten. “Please say nothing until we have a chance to speak with Alfred's parents ourselves.”

“You got my word. I won't say a thing. It's best they hear it from you, but I'm guessing his father will miss the boy's pay more than he'll miss the boy.” Sam had ferried Alfred back and forth from time to time. He knew Alfred had no desire to live at home—and he knew why, as well.

Before Sam departed, Evan handed him a letter to Melinda. If she knew of the storm, he didn't want her to worry. “Don't expect her to get it for a while,” Sam cautioned. “The rails are out from below Savannah to Jacksonville, so there's no trains running and no mail coming in or going out.” There was no way of knowing when the rails would be repaired or how soon the trains would be back on schedule, but Evan hoped word of the hurricane wouldn't cause Melinda to worry unnecessarily or to do anything rash.

The following day, Harland dropped to the couch and rested his head on the cushioned frame. “I've decided it's time for me to give up my job here at Bridal Veil. I'm just too old to carry this heavy load, Evan. There comes a time when a man knows it's time to look for work that suits his age, and my time has come. This place needs someone younger, not an old man like me.”

“That's just weariness talking. All this damage from the hurricane has you worn down. I wish we could see more progress, too, but it's been only a few days. We'll get the job done. Besides, you're not old, Harland.” Evan hoped to see some sign of agreement from his friend and mentor, but the older man's weary expression didn't change.

Delilah brushed past Evan, jumped onto the couch, and settled in Harland's lap. The older man combed his fingers through the cat's thick fur. “It's more than the storm. My bones ache most every day, and I feel a strain I never experienced in the past. The investors keep expanding this place, and my responsibilities grow right along with all those extras they keep adding. I don't feel up to the job anymore. Once Mr. Nordegren gets back, I'm going to tell him he should put you in charge. You're the one who should take over this job.”

“Me?” Fear and panic knotted together and settled on Evan's chest like a rock. With the recent storm, the pressure to get everything back to normal had magnified beyond imagination. “Are you joking? With all this damage and work that needs to be completed before the season, this place can't get along without you. I could never oversee all this work, Harland. You're the one with the experience to get us through this mess.”

“Additional people will be hired to help with the damage and preparations. Besides, there's no better way to learn than to jump in and do things, and this is the perfect time. I won't leave you until you feel equipped, but if I didn't think you were capable, I'd never suggest the idea to Mr. Nordegren or to Mr. Zimmerman.” He lifted his head a few inches and looked Evan in the eye. “You're the right man for the job, Evan, so no use arguing with me.” That said, he returned to his previous position and closed his eyes.

Evan waited, hoping Harland would sit up so they could discuss the matter a little more. When Harland didn't move, Evan yanked off his work boots and took them out to the porch. After they'd sat in the sun for a while, he would beat them against the railing to knock off the dried mud. Since the hurricane, it was the most cleaning his boots had received, and if it hadn't been for Garrison's wife, he'd be wearing filthy clothes. The routine had changed for all of them. Life had turned upside down, and now Harland was planning to further toss things about. His stomach churned as though he'd swallowed a glass of sour milk. Harland believed in him, but could he really step in and prove himself adequate to the job? Memories of his father's condemning insults plagued him.

“You'll never amount to anything, Evan. You're worthless.”

Evan grimaced. It was as if his father were standing in the same room with him now. “
Your brother James has always been the only one I could rely on.”

“Leave the boy be,”
Evan's mother often declared in his defense. Unfortunately it usually resulted in horrible arguments between husband and wife. James thought it almost entertaining. There was something sadistic in the pleasure he took from watching their father bully their mother.

Evan pressed his hands to his head as if to force the images from his mind. His parents had been dreadfully unhappy together. His mother had died a broken and lonely woman. No doubt death had been a sweet release. But it hadn't been so for Evan. He'd been rejected and criticized throughout his childhood and cast off as a young adult.

But Harland believed in him in a way that his own father never had.

Squaring his shoulders, Evan vowed to be worthy of that trust. One way or another, he would prove to Harland and everyone else that he was of value. But the thought of Harland leaving was troubling. Evan went back into the lodge prepared to discuss the matter, but Harland appeared to be asleep.

Evan looked at the old man and shook his head. They'd made little progress on the cleanup, and now Harland was talking of pulling out before the real work had even begun. Only the necessities had received immediate attention. All of the men had helped round up the animals, check owners' cottages, and inspect the many outbuildings for damage. They'd been grateful when they discovered they'd lost only one cow and an old workhorse. Garrison held out hope that when they completed the survey of the island, they'd locate both. Harland wasn't so sure. And now he planned to leave them. Evan could scarcely imagine the island without the old man.

His footsteps muffled by thick work socks, Evan took the steps two at a time and grabbed his other pair of boots. Carrying the shoes in one hand, he plopped down in a straight-backed chair near Harland and tugged the back of a boot until his foot slid into position. The noise caused Harland to stir.

“You feeling up to going over to the cottages, or you need to rest?”

Harland yawned. “Give me an hour or so, and then I'll join you over there. Which cottage you going to first?” Harland had assigned the men living in the workers' quarters to begin repairs to the clubhouse. The cottages of the investors were important, but many more had permanent rooms in the clubhouse. At the moment, they needed to please the majority—and that meant seeing to the clubhouse.

Evan didn't hesitate. “I think I'll go to Bridal Fair first. After the clubhouse, it probably deserves our attention next, don't you think?”

Harland grinned and nodded. “I knew you were the right choice for this job, my boy. You're using your head to make good decisions.” He tapped his index finger to the side of his forehead and then resumed stroking Delilah. “I'll meet you over there in an hour or so. You best stop and see if Emma will feed you before you set out.”

“I'll see if she can pack me a sandwich to take along. It will save me some time.” After a final glance over his shoulder, Evan leaned down and wrapped his hand around the wooden handle of the toolbox. He'd need more than a handheld toolbox to complete all the needed repairs, but with these he could at least begin.

His boots squished in the muddy path, yet birds chirped overhead as though all was right with the world. They remained undisturbed by the storm that had wreaked havoc along the Eastern Coast only days before. A yellow warbler sat high on an exposed branch and sang a bright clear song as Evan passed by. That bird might be calm, but he wasn't. He didn't know whether he should be honored by Harland's decision to recommend him as a replacement or run for the hills. Being a gamekeeper was one thing, but managing and supervising grounds and improvements, overseeing the landscape work, and managing the wildlife was an immense responsibility—not to mention supervising all the men. Much more responsibility than he'd ever imagined. For a fleeting moment, his chest swelled with pride, but soon that feeling was replaced with fear and echoed insults from his father. Forcing them aside, Evan did his best to maintain a positive attitude, but the questions poured in faster than he could answer.

How could they accomplish all the necessary work before the first guests returned for the season in less than three months? Harland had spoken of new employees, and no doubt it would be the only way to accomplish the cleanup, but where would they come from? As grounds and game manager, he would be held accountable. And if he didn't succeed, he might be out of a job in short order.

What would Melinda think? He wondered if she'd be pleased and believe him equal to the job. What would she think if he was without work and forced to leave Bridal Veil because the investors chose someone else? He pictured her smiling and full of assurance—cheering him on with words of encouragement—telling him he could accomplish anything he set his mind to. If the investors selected him for the position, he hoped that would prove true. He shifted the toolbox to his other hand and grinned at the idea. Only a short time ago, he didn't think it possible to accept the position, but now he was envisioning himself in charge.

“Where is it yar headin', Evan?” Emma O'Sullivan's question yanked him back to the present. She was standing in mud to her ankles, pinning wet trousers onto a sagging clothesline.

“I'm going over to Bridal Fair to begin some repairs on Mr. Morley's place. Thought I'd stop by here first and see if I could ride one of the horses over.” He pushed his hat back on his head and grinned. “I was hoping maybe I could talk you out of a sandwich to take with me, too.”

She'd wedged a clothes basket between branches of a fallen tree to keep it off the muddy ground. “I'll need me a few more minutes to finish hanging these clothes, and then I'll fetch you somethin' to take with ya. Go on over to the barn and get ya one of the horses saddled up. Garrison's out mending fences.”

The far end of the barn roof had collapsed, but the rest of the structure remained sound. And the O'Sullivan cottage hadn't suffered a great deal of damage. Garrison had set to work and immediately repaired some roof shingles, and Emma had mopped and swept out the murky water that had remained after the rains subsided. Fortunately, their cottage, like many of the others, sat high enough that it hadn't flooded, but rain had come through broken windows and a damaged roof. The remaining outbuildings had suffered their share of damage, but once the men set to work, it wouldn't take long to have them repaired. The problem would be how soon they could complete all the other repairs before getting to the barn and outbuildings.