“Saw ’em with my own eyes.”
That reply didn’t set Audrey’s mind at ease. The woman’s eyesight couldn’t be trusted. “Exactly what did you see?”
“There’s someone inside. I saw shadows moving around.” She turned long enough to direct a frown at Audrey. “And where have you been? You said you were coming down here to take a look for yourself, but when I got here, you were nowhere to be found.”
“And how did you know it wasn’t me inside that you were shooting at?”
“Because I called your name and you didn’t answer. I gave that scoundrel a second chance—told him I had a shotgun and intended to use it if he didn’t come out with his hands over his head.” She hiked one shoulder. “When he didn’t come out, I shot. Had to let him know I meant what I said.”
Audrey wondered how Thora had once again gotten her hands on the shotgun. After the incident with Mr. Morley, Audrey’s father had hidden the weapon, but obviously not very well. “I thought Father told you—”
“Look! There he is.” Thora leaned in close and settled the weapon against her shoulder.
“That’s nothing more than an old tarpaulin hanging from the tree. It’s casting a shadow when the wind blows.” Audrey pointed to the tattered canvas as the wind blew through the trees. “See? I’m going down there and make certain no one is in the chicken coop, but I’m sure I won’t see a soul down there.” She started to stride off but glanced over her shoulder before descending further. “Don’t shoot me, Aunt Thora!”
“I won’t shoot, but you just remember you told me to hold my fire when man or beast takes hold of you inside that henhouse.”
Thora’s warning rang loud and clear, and though Audrey didn’t expect to find anyone, she would have preferred a more secretive approach. She could hear her aunt muttering in the background as she walked inside. As expected, she discovered nothing but the agitated hens. After being disturbed by Thora and her shotgun, there’d likely be no eggs tomorrow, either.
She walked to the doorway and waved at Thora. “Nothing here. I think we both should go home.”
Moments later, Thora joined her on the path leading back to the house. “You never did tell me where you were this morning.”
“And you didn’t tell me how you found the shotgun,” Audrey said.
The older woman clung to the weapon as though she feared Audrey might snatch it away. “I s’pose we’ve reached what General Lee would have called an impasse.”
“I suppose we have,” Audrey said.
“Still doesn’t explain the eggs. Think I may set up again tonight and see if someone comes prowling around.” Thora pursed her lips into a tight knot.
“You will do no such thing. If necessary, I’ll post one of the men outside your door to make certain you don’t leave the house.” Audrey waved Aunt Thora forward. “Come along, and keep that gun pointed at the ground.”
Her aunt’s grumbling didn’t cease until they neared home and she caught sight of Josie and Julie Wahler sitting on the front porch with Sadie pacing back and forth in front of them. When she spotted Audrey, she hurried down the steps to meet her.
“The girls and I come to apologize and bring back your eggs.” She waved to the girls. “Get on down here and tell Miss Audrey you’s sorry for takin’ her eggs.”
“We’re sorry,” the two girls said in unison.
Audrey stooped down in front of the twins. “You two went to the henhouse by yourselves and gathered these eggs?”
They nodded their heads. “It was Josie’s idea. She wants to have some baby chicks, so we got up before the sun, tiptoed out of the house, and went down there.” Julie shivered. “I was scared ’cause it was dark, but Josie said the moon was real big and bright so we’d be able to see.”
“And we could,” Josie said. “There wasn’t anything to be scared of until Papa found out we took your eggs.”
Julie’s curls bobbed up and down. “He was so mad and said we had to bring your eggs back to you.” She glanced at her sister. “Josie cried because she wanted to wait until they turned into chicks.”
“Doctor said to tell you that he sends his apologies, too, and he hopes it didn’t cause you any problems what with fixing breakfast and all. Wish we woulda found them earlier, but the girls had them hid in their bedroom. If I hadn’t gone in there to clean their closet, I don’t know when I mighta found them eggs.” Sadie pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “I can jest imagine the smell. Ew-whee.”
Audrey chuckled. “Well, I’m glad the mystery of the missing eggs has been solved.” She glanced at Thora. The old woman was still clutching the shotgun in her hand.
Thora shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “Guess that takes care of my shotgun practice—at least for now.”
Chapter 13
On a beautiful Sunday, after the noonday meal, Audrey poured Marshall a cup of coffee and joined him at the small table in the kitchen. Irene and Thora had gone to visit the Wahler children. No doubt the twin girls would convince Thora to bring them back to Bridal Fair for the remainder of the afternoon. The other men had wandered off to their rooms or decided upon a stroll through the woods or along the beach. Only Audrey and Marshall remained behind—and, of course, her father.
“My father was asking about your progress on the clubhouse. He said you hadn’t been in to visit with him for a couple of days, and he was concerned that maybe there’d been another problem. I told him you’d been busy.” Like her father, Audrey had wondered about Marshall’s absence at the house. He’d been rushing out as soon as he gulped down his breakfast, and he hadn’t been returning for the noonday meal of late. When she’d inquired, he said he had been eating with the men at the cookhouse near the slave quarters—it saved him time and allowed him to more closely oversee the men.
“I keep hoping we’re going to get back on schedule, but each time I get my hopes up, something else goes wrong. Yesterday I discovered a major support beam for the main dining room had been compromised.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how it happened. There was a huge cut in the beam, and it had been placed in such a way that it wasn’t clearly noticeable. Although it would have likely withstood the weight of the flooring, in time and with added weight the whole thing would eventually come crashing down. Can you imagine a roomful of guests gathered to enjoy a meal and having the floor collapse beneath them?” He shuddered as he looked up and met her gaze. “I spoke to every one of the workers individually and asked what they knew about the beam. Of course, nobody admitted to knowing anything about how it could have happened. I couldn’t even discover who had placed the beam.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I get so angry at the lack of progress. Each time we near getting back on schedule, there’s another problem.”
“Do you think the men are intentionally causing damage to slow the project?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think Frank may be encouraging them to disrupt the work so I’ll be fired, but there’s no way to prove it. I feel like I need to be down at the site night and day to make certain nothing goes wrong.”
She forced a smile. “Yet even staying there so much of the time, things continue to go amiss. Maybe you should send a letter to Mr. Morley and ask his advice.”
“I don’t want him to think I can’t solve my own problems. I keep hoping to find the answer.” He took a final sip of coffee. “Your father doing any better today?”
“I’m afraid not. It doesn’t seem possible that only a few weeks ago he was up and about each morning and required only an afternoon nap.” Her voice caught and she looked away. “Now he’s up in his chair only long enough to read his Bible for a short time before he must return to bed.” She could feel tears forming in her eyes. “I fear his time is very close.”
Marshall touched her hand. “I know how difficult this is for you, Audrey, and I want to help both of you in any way that I can. No matter how busy I am with the construction, I want you to feel free to tell me when you need my help. I know
Mr. Morley will understand.”
She nodded, but she didn’t want to think about her father’s death. She wanted a miracle—she wanted her father to once again be whole and free of pain.
“I can’t imagine a single day without him here.” She felt her chest tighten and found it hard to breathe. “I didn’t want to come here in the first place, but he talked me into it. I don’t know how I can go on if he isn’t here.”
“It won’t be easy,” Marshall told her. “The wise thing is to just bide your time. Don’t mourn him before he’s gone. He looks forward to your visits and likes sharing stories of his boyhood. Think on those pleasant things. There will be plenty of time to mourn him when he’s gone.”
Audrey shook her head. “It’s too hard. This is too much for anyone to bear. I think God is cruel. If He truly knew what it was to experience this kind of pain, He wouldn’t allow it.”
Marshall gave her a sympathetic shrug. “God let His own Son go to the cross. I think He understands your pain.”
His words wormed their way into her heart. Audrey didn’t want to think of God understanding. If He understood, why didn’t He do something? It was easier to imagine Him without a clue than to think He knew and did nothing.
Marshall squeezed her hand again. “Trust Him, Audrey. He knows what you’re going through, and He will see you through.”
By the middle of November, Audrey could no longer deny that her father’s days were drawing to an end. Dr. Wahler said it could be weeks or perhaps a month, but the doctor had quickly followed up by saying one could never tell about these things, and it might be only days.
Though Audrey was loath to believe him, she saw the gray cast to her father’s skin and ached each time he refused to eat even his favorite foods. That morning she’d offered him a sip of coffee with cream and sugar—the way he had always enjoyed it—but he only gave a shake of his head. When she’d returned with it to the kitchen, Audrey had thrown the contents into the sink, not even caring that the cup broke into pieces.
“Oh, Miss Audrey, are you all right?” Irene asked, coming upon the scene. “Let me clean that up for you.”
Audrey wanted to scream. “It was my fault. I’ll clean it up.” She grabbed the pieces out of the mess, cutting her finger in the process. She winced but said nothing. Dropping the broken cup into the dustbin, she examined her finger. The cut wasn’t bad, but it did need attention.
Irene brought a dish towel and wrapped it around Audrey’s finger. “I’ll get some bandages and iodine.”
“No need,” Audrey said. “It isn’t that bad.”
Irene patted Audrey’s arm. “I’m so sorry for your pain, Miss Audrey.”
Audrey knew the young woman was referring to more than just the injury on her hand. Biting her lower lip, Audrey exited the room before she burst into tears. Her life was like a nightmare that she wanted to end, but one she clung to all at the same time.
Marshall did what he could to lend a hand whenever possible. He knew that Audrey had placed a protective wall between herself and most people. Generally, he could push aside the barrier she’d constructed and get her to open up to him, but she was so wrapped in pain that Marshall often came away feeling he’d done more harm than good.
Each evening he insisted Audrey eat her supper and rest while he sat at Boyd’s bedside. At first she had protested, but as days became weeks and weariness set in, her objections ceased and she would hurry from the room as soon as Marshall arrived. There was little doubt that watching her father’s life slip away had taken its toll on Audrey. Dark circles rimmed her dark brown eyes, and the beautiful golden glint had disappeared weeks ago. She’d lost weight, and even her curls had lost their sheen.
Although it sometimes proved difficult, Marshall did his best to push construction concerns from his thoughts when he sat with Boyd. He’d sit at the bedside and read aloud from the Bible. Often during those evening readings, John Nichols, a pastor from Biscayne, would pay a visit. Boyd had mentioned the preacher shortly after Marshall arrived at Bridal Fair, and on one of his trips to the mainland, Marshall had stopped to visit with the man.
Since then, Pastor Nichols had taken it upon himself to visit Boyd whenever possible, sometimes even remaining overnight. Like Marshall, a couple of the boarders enjoyed the preacher’s visits and were encouraged by his willingness to share God’s Word. However, Frank Baker didn’t share their enthusiasm. He’d taken Marshall aside and suggested the preacher save his sermons for Sunday mornings.
It had given Marshall great pleasure to tell Frank that Bridal Fair belonged to the Cunningham family, and unless they made such a request—which he knew they wouldn’t—Reverend Nichols would be free to share his beliefs with anyone in the house. The response hadn’t set well with Baker, but he hadn’t argued further. Instead, he made himself scarce whenever the preacher visited.
The pastor’s unexpected appearance today had surprised both Audrey and Marshall. He quickly explained that Old Sam had made a special trip to bring him over to Bridal Veil and would return for him in the morning. Frank had been less than welcoming when he noted the preacher’s appearance at the supper table, but if the pastor noticed, he didn’t let on.
“You gentlemen care if I join you for a while?” The pastor stood in Boyd’s doorway with his worn Bible in one hand. “I planned to come up here earlier, but once I started visiting with Audrey, time got away from me.”
Boyd lifted his hand and waved the preacher forward. “Good to see you, Pastor. No need for apologies. I’m glad to hear you and Audrey had some time to visit. She’s having a hard time accepting my illness. I’ve been trying to set her mind at ease, but maybe she’ll take more stock in what you have to say. More than anything, I think she needs to be assured of God’s love.”
The preacher nodded and took a chair near Boyd’s bedside. “And what about you, Boyd? What do you need?”
Tears welled in the older man’s eyes. “I need to know that Audrey is going to be all right when the good Lord decides to take me home. So far, I don’t think she’s willing to accept the fact that I’m going to die.”
“Death is a part of life. In her heart, she knows we all will die, and in time she’ll grow to accept that your death isn’t a punishment. It may take her time, Boyd, but Audrey is a strong girl who believes God’s Word. She’ll be fine. You’ve got good friends to make sure of it. Right, Marshall?”
The pastor arched his brows in expectation, and Marshall offered a slight nod.
Pastor Nichols patted Boyd’s hand. “You see? You have friends committed to help Audrey, so you can set your mind at ease.” After they’d visited for some time, the preacher opened his Bible. “I’m going to read a few verses of Scripture and pray before I leave you to get some sleep. I don’t want you getting overtired.”
Boyd chuckled a short, raspy laugh. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Pastor. I get more than my share of sleep. Besides, I enjoy listening to your words of wisdom.”
“Thank you, Boyd, but the wisdom I’ve given you isn’t mine—it’s directly from God’s Word.” He tapped his index finger on the pages of his open Bible. “This is where we find all the answers to help us navigate through this world.”
Both Marshall and Audrey had noticed the positive effect the preacher’s visits had on Boyd. The pastor’s appearances lifted Boyd’s spirits and provided comfort. And the visits provided strength and insight for Marshall, as well.
“He’s a fine man,” Boyd murmured as the pastor departed the bedroom. “And a wise one, too.”
Marshall nodded. “I hope Audrey heeds his words, for he’s surely given me much to think about. He’s made me understand that nothing will change the past and that I have a choice. I can use the painful experiences from my past as an excuse for failure, or I can learn from them and create a fresh start in life.”
“Like I said, John is a wise man. We can’t remake the past, but God holds our future in His hand, and there’s always a place to begin anew.” Boyd
shifted in the bed until he was facing Marshall. “I’ve been praying that this island will be your new start. And that Audrey might also become a part of your future plans. I know that you care for her—I can see it in your eyes each time you look at her.”
Marshall glanced at the floor as the heat climbed up the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize my feelings were obvious.” He rested his arms across his legs and leaned forward. “Unfortunately, I don’t believe she shares my feelings.”
Boyd reached forward and patted Marshall’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry. I believe that in time she’ll come to care for you very much. Already I’ve seen changes—her attitude about you has softened.” After a glimpse toward the door, he continued. “I want you to make a promise to me, Marshall.”
“Of course. Anything.” He met the older man’s steady gaze.
“I want you to promise to take care of Audrey once I’m gone.”
Marshall dropped back against the chair’s wooden spindles and swiped his palm down his jaw. “I don’t know about that, Boyd. Don’t misunderstand—I’d be pleased to take care of Audrey, but I’m not sure she’d welcome such an arrangement. Have you talked to her about this?”
“No. ’Course not. She’d be mad as a wet hen if she knew I was suggesting such a thing. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and I know it will help her—a lot. She needs a good man in her life—someone she can depend on. I’ve spent a lot of time praying about this, and I know you’re the man. Do I have your word you’ll take care of her?”
Marshall didn’t want to argue with Boyd’s supposition, but he’d feel a lot better if Audrey thought he was the man for her rather than her father. “I don’t know whether Audrey would agree that I’m the man for her, but you have my word that when you die, I’ll look after her and do everything I can to help her. I can’t say if that will include a wedding. I think your daughter will need to share your conviction before that will happen.”
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