To Have and To Hold

by Tracie Peterson

  Boyd grinned and gave a weak nod. “I think she cares for you more than you think. She’s just careful to guard her emotions—doesn’t want to get hurt.”

  Marshall knew about guarded feelings. For most of his life, he’d done the same thing, remaining a loner rather than taking chances with people who might disappoint. It was clear Audrey had been careful with her feelings, as well. After all, he’d met great resistance when he’d tried to befriend her. How in the world could he woo her?

  Granted, they’d now become friends, but he’d seen nothing that indicated she had feelings for him—nothing beyond friendship. And he didn’t want to do or say anything that would harm their fragile alliance. Should he say anything unexpected or unwelcome, it could halt all progress he’d made thus far, and he didn’t want to chance that possibility. Still, he wanted to assure Boyd that he would give Audrey as much love and assistance as she would permit.

  “So we’re agreed?” Boyd attempted to wink but failed in the effort.

  “We’re agreed that I’ll do everything in my power to take care of Audrey—unless she finds someone else who can do a better job.”

  “Don’t know where she’d find such a fellow.”

  Boyd’s eyes drifted closed, and Marshall remained silent. When he’d first arrived at Bridal Fair, Marshall might have agreed with Boyd. But things had changed on Bridal Veil Island. Now there were plenty of men on the island, and most of them would be pleased to court Audrey Cunningham, particularly Dr. Wahler. At least that’s what Marshall had decided as he’d watched events unfold in Bridal Fair.

  Chapter 14

  As the days drifted by, Boyd’s request continued to haunt Marshall. Each evening he considered speaking to Audrey—not to tell her about the conversation, but rather to gain a better understanding of her feelings for him. No matter what he attempted, Marshall met with little success.

  Although Boyd hadn’t requested additional medical treatment, the doctor’s house calls had become more and more frequent. Almost every evening after supper, he would arrive at the front door. Boyd said the doctor was likely bored with little to do since his arrival, but Marshall hadn’t missed the glances he and Audrey exchanged from time to time. And if the doctor had no interest in Audrey, why did he remain after completing his examination of Boyd? Soon after leaving Boyd’s bedside, Audrey would slip from her father’s room and join Dr. Wahler in the parlor. And, as if to make the situation more difficult, Frank Baker had been finding various reasons to take Audrey aside and speak privately with her. Putting up with Dr. Wahler was difficult enough, but Frank Baker—well, that was altogether unthinkable.

  As if Marshall’s thoughts had summoned the man, Dr. Wahler appeared at the bedroom door. After a quick glance into the room, he came in and settled his black case on the table beside the bed. Nodding in Marshall’s direction, he turned toward the older man. “How are you feeling this evening, Boyd?”

  “About the same as yesterday. I keep telling you, there’s no need to stop here every evening. We both know I’m not going to get any better, and I’m sure you’ve got your hands full taking care of injured workers and those two little girls of yours.” Boyd croaked the last words and fell back against his pillows.

  Doctor Wahler placed his index finger against his lips. “No need to strain yourself talking, Boyd. And don’t concern yourself about my visits. Coming to Bridal Fair is the highlight of my day.”

  Marshall arched his brows and gave Boyd a see-what-I-was-telling-you look, but the old man’s eyelids drooped and closed before Marshall could gain his attention. After taking Boyd’s pulse and listening to his heart and lungs, the doctor grunted and returned the stethoscope to his black bag. “You go ahead and rest, Boyd.” The doctor closed his bag and crossed the room in three long strides. “I’m going downstairs and visit with Audrey.” He looked to Marshall. “She’s invited me for coffee and pie.” He smiled rather smugly, as if he’d just won first place in a turkey shoot. “But I’ll be back tomorrow, Boyd. Never you fear.”

  “I’m not . . . gonna promise to be here,” Boyd said weakly, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I figure you’ll be here, and I’m the doctor, so you must do as I say.”

  Dr. Wahler didn’t wait for a response before hurrying down the hallway. From his hasty departure, Marshall decided the good doctor didn’t want to be detained. Marshall didn’t know what annoyed him more: the doctor’s eagerness to visit with Audrey or Audrey’s willingness to stop her work and sit with him.

  As the evening progressed, Marshall’s irritation ascended to new heights. Audrey almost always returned to sit with her father by eight o’clock. Now it was nearly nine, and she still hadn’t appeared. No doubt Dr. Wahler was the reason.

  For weeks the doctor had been sharing more and more time with Audrey. Marshall didn’t want to admit that he’d eavesdropped enough to know their conversations weren’t focused on Boyd’s health or medical treatment. Rather than talking about her father, the doctor seemed to be regaling Audrey with humorous stories of his children and their latest antics.

  This evening apparently was no different. Instead of giving Sadie a reprieve from her duties and caring for his children on a Sunday evening, the doctor chose to remain at Bridal Fair for an extended visit with Audrey. The man was no doubt doing his level best to court Audrey in a roundabout manner, and from the sounds of it he was making progress. She delighted in his girls, and whenever Dr. Wahler brought up their need for a mother, Audrey was always sympathetic and agreeable.

  A short time later, the bedroom door opened. He was prepared to comment on Audrey’s tardiness, but it was Irene rather than Audrey who greeted him.

  “You haven’t had supper yet. I saved you a plate in the warmer,” she told him. “Go on now, and I’ll sit with Mr. Cunningham.”

  “Thank you,” he muttered and headed out of the room. When he topped the stairs, Marshall could hear Dr. Wahler bidding Audrey good-night.

  “I’ll come again tomorrow, just as I told your father.”

  “I appreciate your concerns. I can’t begin to thank you enough.”

  He looks like a lovesick schoolboy, Marshall thought as the doctor bent over Audrey’s hand and murmured farewell.

  As soon as the door was closed, Audrey shot past the stairs without even looking up. Marshall was starting to follow her as she made her way back to the parlor when he heard Frank Baker bid her good evening. Apparently he’d come in the side door after his evening smoke.

  “Goodness, Mr. Baker, you startled me,” Audrey declared.

  Marshall made his way into the parlor and spotted Frank watching Audrey’s backside as she bent to gather teacups. The man suddenly realized Marshall had caught him and leered a grin. Marshall wanted to punch him in the mouth and see just how funny the man thought it was then, but he held his temper in check.

  Audrey placed the pieces on a tray, and when she straightened she saw Marshall. “Is Father all right?” Her voice trembled.

  “He’s fine. Irene is with him so that I could have supper. It’s getting rather late.”

  She put her hand to her mouth and then pulled it away just as quickly. “Oh, Marshall, I am sorry. I’m afraid I forgot you hadn’t eaten. Please forgive me.”

  “It’s all right,” he assured her before looking at Frank. “Don’t let us keep you.”

  “Oh, you aren’t. I have plenty of time,” Frank said and took a seat.

  Audrey reached for the teapot. “I should get these things washed up and go relieve Irene. Would you care to speak to me in the kitchen while you eat?” she asked Marshall.

  Unable to keep from sneering at Frank, Marshall replied, “That would suit me just fine.”

  “Miss Audrey, I was hoping I could speak to you in private.” Frank’s words yanked Marshall from his thoughts. The assistant supervisor was smiling at Audrey as though he would devour her.

  “Audrey is going upstairs to sit with her father once she’s finished with her duties.” Ma
rshall blurted the response before Audrey could open her mouth.

  Audrey turned toward Marshall, her face pinched in an angry frown. “I believe I’m capable of answering for myself.” With a tilt of her head, she directed a lovely smile at Frank. “I’ll meet you on the front porch once I’ve returned these dishes to the kitchen, Mr. Baker.”

  The moment Audrey stepped out of earshot, Frank leaned forward. “Guess she told you. Maybe now you’ll keep your nose out of my private business.”

  “Don’t count on it.” For a fleeting moment, Marshall considered going into the kitchen and asking Audrey if she’d taken leave of her senses. Why would she take up with a man who didn’t have her best interests at heart? Couldn’t she see that the supervisor planned to take advantage of her? Anyone with an ounce of good judgment could peg Frank Baker as a shallow cad. Marshall’s anger soared as he left the room. He’d lost his appetite. If Audrey was going to sit on the porch and swoon over Frank Baker, he didn’t want to see it.

  He tromped up the stairs with the image of Frank Baker’s smug grin taunting him. If Audrey wanted to surround herself with the likes of Frank Baker and Dr. Wahler, then so be it. After all, he’d only been attempting to look out for her, trying to do her father’s bidding, hoping to provide assistance. And what had that gained him? Obviously, she thought his good deeds obtrusive rather than helpful.

  Irene stopped him before he passed Boyd’s room. “He’s asking for you.”

  The fact that he’d been out of the room only a few minutes and Boyd was asking for him caused Marshall’s fear to mount. Was it Boyd’s time? He entered the room, noting the single candle that was burning by the bed.

  “That you, Marshall?”

  The younger man would have preferred to nurse his wounded spirit in the privacy of his own room, but he stepped closer to the bed and offered a halfhearted wave. “It’s me. Something wrong, Boyd?” Instead of sitting, Marshall remained standing by his bedside.

  “Nothin’ wrong that hasn’t been wrong for a long time. You have a good supper?” Boyd shifted in the bed and grimaced from the effort.

  Marshall did his best to smile. He didn’t want to worry Boyd by admitting that he hadn’t eaten. “There’s never anything but good food that comes out of the kitchen here at Bridal Fair. You know that, Boyd.”

  The old man studied him. “Something troubling you? Problems downstairs? Audrey’s all right, isn’t she?”

  “No problems that I’ve been told about. As for how Audrey’s doing, you’d do better to ask Frank Baker or Dr. Wahler. They’d know better than me.” The minute he’d spoken, Marshall wanted to take back the curt remark. Boyd lay dying. He didn’t need to hear trivial nonsense.

  A surprising twinkle shone in Boyd’s eyes. “You’re jealous. You care for my Audrey, and you’re jealous ’cause those men are showing her attention. Am I right?”

  Marshall clenched his jaw. “I’m not jealous. I’m only trying to do what you asked of me. You said you wanted me to look out for her, but if she wants to spend her time with the likes of Frank Baker, there’s nothing I can do about it. She’s a grown woman who wants to make her own decisions.”

  “Sure enough, she’s a grown woman—and you’re a grown man—and a jealous one, at that.” His soft chuckle soon ended, but a slight grin remained on his lips. “I can see you’re unwilling to own up to your feelings for Audrey, but you’ll admit them to yourself and to her in time. Of that, I’m certain.” Boyd inhaled a ragged breath. “Don’t push her too hard. She can get headstrong when she’s pushed. Let her think she’s making the choices. That’s the secret.”

  Marshall couldn’t help but remember the way she’d snapped at him when he’d answered Baker just moments earlier. “She’s definitely headstrong.”

  “Don’t let your jealousy get out of hand. It won’t serve you well.”

  Although he wanted to deny he was jealous, Marshall wouldn’t argue with a sick man. “Think I’ll head off to my room. I’m feeling a little tired this evening.”

  “Don’t spend your time brooding, Marshall. Life’s too short for that sort of thing. If you want to be alone, I understand. But use the time wisely—maybe a little Bible reading would be in order. Try taking a look at Proverbs.”

  Marshall agreed, but only so he could escape to the privacy of his room. Besides, it was Audrey who needed to get her head out of the clouds every time Frank Baker or Dr. Wahler stepped through the doorway. She was the one who needed to read the Bible.

  Marshall hadn’t intended to heed Boyd’s suggestion. The evening was late, and he would need to get up early. However, his restless spirit told him going to bed would only result in rumpled bedcovers. Lifting his Bible from the small bedside table, he tucked his thumb at the upper right-hand corner and watched the chapter headings flash by in rapid succession. Before he could shove his hand between the pages, he’d flipped ahead to the book of Isaiah. Mumbling to himself, he turned the pages back until he arrived at Proverbs. It took only a cursory read to understand Boyd’s intent: The book of Proverbs contained excellent instructions on how to live a good life. After a more detailed reading of Proverbs 16, Marshall made a decision. He wanted to commit some of these verses to memory.

  He followed the verses down to Proverbs 16:32. He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city. If he could bring it to mind, that verse would serve him well the next time Dr. Wahler or Frank Baker annoyed him. Once in bed, Marshall repeated the verse. Over and over he recited it until his lips would no longer move or his eyelids remain open.

  When his feet hit the floor early the next morning, Marshall once again repeated the verse, pleased when he remembered all of the words. He snapped his suspenders over the shoulders of his blue chambray shirt. Marshall preferred to wear clothes that allowed him to get into the midst of the workers without worry, while Mr. Baker donned a white shirt and remained at a distance. They were as opposite as two men could be, finding little upon which they could agree.

  “Today, I will remember to be slow to anger,” Marshall murmured as he descended the stairs and took his place at the breakfast table. Even when Frank attempted to gain Audrey’s attention, he held his tongue in check. Slow to anger, slow to anger. He cast his gaze downward and didn’t lift his head until he’d finished eating.

  Instead of waiting until the others prepared to depart, Marshall stood and nodded to the other men. “I’m going down to the dock to meet the boat. Mr. Morley’s due in this morning. We’ll be over to the work site shortly.” Marshall kept his eyes fixed on Harry Fenton rather than Frank Baker. “Make certain the men keep to their assigned tasks. We’re getting closer to being on schedule again, and I want it to remain that way.”

  Marshall grabbed his hat from the hall tree and headed out the front door. For once, he was looking forward to Mr. Morley’s visit. In spite of earlier delays, he’d finally been able to prod the men into giving a full day’s work for their pay. If they continued at this pace, the resort would be completed for the grand opening. January of 1888 seemed like a long time off, and indeed it was just over a year away. Even so, if they were going to finish on schedule, they’d need good weather and good workmen. He was praying they’d have both.

  Achieving the anticipated deadline would provide him with ample time to arrange for his move to Colorado in the early spring of 1888. He smiled as he considered his plan. What about Audrey? The question invaded his thoughts with such force that he stopped and looked over his shoulder to see if someone had spoken the words.

  He looked upward and surveyed the cloudless blue sky. “What about Audrey? I can’t help someone who won’t accept my offers.” Using the toe of his boot, he kicked a stone and watched it skip and tumble from the path. The idea of delaying his departure now seemed a foolish agreement. Audrey wouldn’t appreciate his sacrifice, of that he was becoming more and more certain. And if things continued as they had in recent days, it would be Dr. Wahler or Frank Baker pr
oviding her with comfort when her father died.

  Marshall was a man of his word, but if Audrey looked to either of those two men for consolation, surely he could consider his obligation fulfilled. Couldn’t he? And what if she wanted to remain on Bridal Veil Island? She’d told him it had been her father who’d wanted to leave Pittsburgh, but women could be as changeable as the weather. She now seemed to enjoy living on the island, and maybe she’d decide to remain there forever. Then what would he do? His stomach clenched as his frustration mounted. None of this was making any sense. He cared for Audrey. He didn’t want to go to Colorado without her, but he didn’t want to remain on Bridal Veil. And he certainly didn’t want Dr. Wahler or Frank Baker to win her heart.

  His thoughts were still in turmoil when Victor Morley stepped out of the boat and onto the dock a short time later. “You look rather glum. Things not going well with the clubhouse?” His eyebrows dipped low on his forehead.

  “We’ve made enough progress that I think you’ll be pleased. Right now, we’re only a few days off schedule. Barring any unexpected problems, I think we’ll be right on schedule by the time you leave the island.”

  A smile spread across the investor’s face. “Now, that is good news! I’m proud of you, my boy.” He patted Marshall’s shoulder as he offered his congratulations.

  “Thank you, sir. I won’t deny it’s been a challenge, but I think the men now understand that I’m in charge.”

  “You look as though you’ve lost your best friend.” The two men matched their stride as they continued toward Bridal Fair.

  Though he hadn’t planned to confide in Victor, Marshall soon found himself divulging his hopes, fears, and concerns.

  By the time Marshall had finished his explanation, they had neared the front porch of Bridal Fair. Mr. Morley grasped his arm. “So you believe your commitment to Boyd may ruin your plans to move on to Colorado. Is that right?”

  Marshall nodded. “I know it sounds selfish, but—”