She trudged down the steps and into her room, Dr. Wahler’s promise fresh in her thoughts. While she loosened the collar of her dress and removed her shoes, she recalled the promise she’d made to her father a short time ago. What men had he been speaking of? Had he meant Marshall or perhaps Dr. Wahler? Certainly the doctor was a good man—one who was capable of love. He demonstrated love to his children every day, and from all accounts, the doctor had loved his wife. And she knew her father admired Marshall. Was he thinking of him? The house was filled with men—had he been referring to one of them? She wanted to consider the matter, perhaps even question him further when she returned upstairs. But for now, even the clatter of pots and pans in the nearby kitchen couldn’t keep her awake.
“Audrey, wake up.” Irene leaned close to her ear. “Doc says to hurry.”
Not even bothering with her shoes, Audrey jumped from the bed and dashed to the stairs. She came to her father’s room and spied the doctor and Marshall standing near the bedside. Not a word was spoken, but one look told her she was too late. Her father was dead.
Dr. Wahler extended his hand. “I’m sorry, my dear. He was stable, and then his breathing grew shallow and his heart slowed. I sent Irene as quickly as I could.”
“Did he . . . did he wake up?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
“No. He passed quite easily.”
“I should have been here,” Audrey said, reaching out to touch her father’s peaceful face. She had wanted to be with him at the end, to hold his hand, smooth his brow, and express her love for him one last time. Grief assailed her, both for the loss of her father and for the lost opportunity to be with him in his final hour.
An invisible band wrapped around her chest and cut off her breath. A strangled cry escaped her lips and tears rolled down her cheeks. Gasping, she turned and met Marshall’s eyes. He stepped toward her just as her knees gave way and the room went dark.
Waking up some time later, Audrey heard Thora issuing instructions. “Bring the smelling salts—she’s been too long in this faint. It will cause her brain fever if we’re not careful.”
“I assure you, Miss Audrey will not get brain fever. She’s simply had a shock,” Dr. Wahler explained. “It’s best to let her recover gradually. When she awakens—”
“I’m awake,” Audrey said, attempting to sit up. Someone had placed her in bed. Marshall, no doubt. He had been the one nearest to her when she’d collapsed.
“You oughten to be sitting,” Thora declared, pushing her back against the pillows. “Too much strain on your heart.”
“My heart is broken at the loss of my father,” Audrey said and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Otherwise it continues to beat just fine.” She wasn’t about to add that perhaps it would be better had it stopped along with her father’s. Such talk would be misinterpreted, and before she knew it, Thora would have her drinking healing concoctions and tied to the bedpost.
“I’m sorry for making a scene,” she said, looking at Dr. Wahler. “I’ve never been one given to fainting spells.”
“Never had this many Yankees at Bridal Fair, either,” Thora said in a huff.
Audrey ignored her. “I need to ready Father’s body for burial.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Thora declared. “Irene and me, we can manage.”
It was the first time Thora had suggested she could work at ease with the younger girl. Audrey was too tired to argue. “He’ll wear his blue suit. I’ll brush it—”
Thora held up her hand. “Already bein’ done.” She put a hand to her back and shuffled to the door. “I’ve done my share of burial preparations. I can do this for all of you.”
Audrey looked at Dr. Wahler and then around the room. The doctor smiled. “Mr. Graham is helping Irene. I believe he felt a . . . brotherly . . . responsibility. Mr. Cunningham was quite dear to him, it would seem.”
Nodding, Audrey thought of Marshall’s kindness to her father—to all of them. “He’s a good man,” she murmured, her eyes widening as the words spilled out. “A good man.”
As they prepared for her father’s funeral, Audrey couldn’t help but take note of the many good men in her company. The kind words and deeds of the men—both their boarders and the ones who lived in the old slave quarters—were clear proof of their attributes.
One of the carpenters constructed her father’s coffin, and she was amazed by his dogged determination to create something beautiful as a final tribute. Men came to the house with bouquets of fall flowers that continued to bloom in spite of Audrey’s sorrow. They dug the grave and placed some of Aunt Thora’s toad lilies, colorful pansies, and some of her beloved rockets of yellow ligularia near the gravesite. And there wasn’t one complaint from Aunt Thora.
Pastor Nichols arrived from Biscayne to conduct the funeral. Audrey stood stock-still, Marshall on one side of her and Aunt Thora on the other, while Pastor Nichols offered the final prayer.
“And to you, Father in heaven, we give honor and praise. We thank you and celebrate the life of this man, Boyd Cunningham. We ask your blessing on his beloved daughter and on the friends who have gathered here today. Let us go now in your grace. Amen.”
“Amen,” the crowd murmured.
The word stuck in Audrey’s throat. It was too final. Like reading The End on the last page of a book. She looked at her father’s closed coffin, knowing he was inside, but also knowing it wasn’t really him at all. His spirit—the very heart and soul of this man whom she loved—was gone. Life would never be the same.
While Audrey was thankful for the preacher’s eulogy, it was his kindness afterward that spoke to her heart. He remained for several hours and spoke of his conversations with her father. “He loved you very much, Audrey. More than anything, I know your father wanted you to find a good husband and be happy. Even more, you have the assurance of knowing that you’ll be together again one day. For those who know the Lord, there is great comfort.” He patted her hand. “You’re going to be just fine, Audrey.” He tapped his fingers against his chest. “I can feel it right here.”
She forced a feeble smile. Maybe one day she would feel the same way. Right now, she wasn’t so sure.
When they returned to Bridal Fair a short time later, Mr. Morley drew Audrey aside. His eyes mirrored Audrey’s pain. “I wish there was something I could do to ease your grief, but I find words inadequate at this time.” He pressed an envelope into her hand. “This is the deed to Bridal Fair. I’ve paid the back taxes, and . . . ”
Audrey gasped. “Oh no, I couldn’t. My father was opposed to taking charity, and I plan to continue working so that I can pay off the debt.”
Mr. Morley gently patted her hand. “Please, Audrey. Let me do this.” His lips curved in a slight grin. “Heaven knows I need you to continue your boardinghouse duties here at Bridal Fair until we’ve completed the construction. The supervisors would never forgive me if you quit. But I want to release you from the tax burden.” When she didn’t reply, he tipped his head and met her gaze. “Please. I truly want you to accept.”
His generosity and kindness caused a lump to rise in her throat. She knew if she tried to answer, she’d begin to cry and might never be able to stop. She nodded her head as tears ran down her cheeks, unchecked. God was providing for her security. Now, if He could only mend her heart, as well.
Two days later, the twins accompanied Sadie to Bridal Fair, each of the girls bearing a handful of flowers while Sadie carried two large baskets of food.
“She thinks I’m too old to keep up with the cooking around here.” Thora hissed the remark in Audrey’s ear while Sadie coaxed one of the twins from beneath the settee in the parlor.
“Of course not, Aunt Thora. She’s extending a kindness, and you need to quit thinking that the goodness of other people is intended as an insult to you.”
“I do not. This is the first time—”
Audrey held up her hand. “No, ma’am. This isn’t the first time. The day Father died, you thought the boarders
’ offer to take their meals in the dining hall down near the slave quarters was an insult. And yesterday, when Old Sam tried to give us all those shrimp, you accused him of trying to sell off his extra catch on our doorstep. Today, you think Sadie has prepared this food because she thinks you’re incapable of keeping up with your duties.” Audrey sighed and lifted the cloth from one of the baskets. “People want to extend help and sympathy. Let them do it without your thinking it has something to do with your ability or that someone is trying to take advantage of us. After all, this is the way of the South—just as you’ve always told me.”
Thora’s expression softened. It was her only sign of agreement. She pulled back the cloth on the other basket and removed warm loaves of nut bread, a pan of pecan squares, and three jars of preserves. “She must think we all have a sweet tooth.”
Irene peered over the old woman’s shoulder. “Well, I know I do. I’ll be more than happy to eat your share.”
When Irene inched forward and reached for one of the pecan squares, Thora slapped her hand. “Don’t think you can just help yourself whenever you please. If I recollect, I told you to pare those sweet potatoes.”
Irene pointed to the pan sitting near the kitchen window. “I finished five minutes ago.” Turning her attention to Audrey, the younger woman motioned toward the doorway. “Why don’t you go and rest. We can manage just fine. You have other things to attend to.”
While grasping a hand of each of the twins, Sadie returned to the kitchen. “If there’s any way I can help, you jest let me know, Miss Audrey.” She glanced at the young girls. “’Course, I got the young’uns to look after, but I’ll do my best to lend a hand wherever you need me.”
Josie wrapped her free arm around Audrey’s skirt and gave a tug. “Wanna come outside and play with us so Sadie can help Miss Thora with her cooking?”
Audrey stooped down and looked into the child’s eyes. “Not today, Josie, but if Sadie brings you over next week, we can spend some time together. How would that be?”
Julie nodded at her sister. “We’d like that. Papa says you’re sad because your papa died. I was sad when our mama died, too.”
“I’m sure you were, Julie.”
Josie shook her head. “She doesn’t really remember. We were only three when Mama died.”
Julie stomped her leather-clad foot. “I do too remember!”
“Time for us to go home, girls.” Sadie offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Audrey. I’m sorry the girls aren’t better behaved. Our little talk before we came over didn’t help much.” She directed a stern look at each of them. “Come along. We’re going home.”
Though the girls protested, Sadie marched them toward home. Audrey watched as the three of them headed down the path. “I believe I’ll go for a walk if you’re certain you don’t need my help.”
“You go on, Miss Audrey. We’re just fine,” Irene said.
“Since when did you take charge of this kitchen? Never had a Yankee in charge of anything at Bridal Fair that I recollect.” Thora stomped to the kitchen doorway. “You put the Yankee girl in charge, Audrey?”
“I told you I’m not a Yankee or a Confederate; I’m an American, and so are you.” Irene rested a fist on each hip and gave the older woman a look that dared defiance.
Audrey stepped toward the kitchen. “Neither of you is in charge—I am. And I’m ordering you to get along while I’m gone.” That said, she hastened out the front door before another argument ensued.
Learning to deal with Aunt Thora was a survival tool Irene had begun to hone the day she arrived. She had quickly discovered that the best way to deal with Thora was to meet her head on. Audrey hadn’t stopped the girl when she’d voiced her objections to being called a Yankee, and after a few weeks, Thora had ceased such activity. With the recent stressful events, Thora had reverted to her old ways, but Irene held her ground.
“Smart girl. She’s not going to let Thora get the best of her,” Audrey whispered as she descended the front steps.
At the end of the path, she turned left, away from the narrow path leading to the small family cemetery. She passed the washhouse and continued on toward the beach. Birds fluttered overhead, disturbed by the invasion of any species other than their own. A branch cracked in the underbrush, and she turned, expecting to spot a rabbit or perhaps a deer—praying it wouldn’t be Frank Baker.
Instead, Marshall stepped into sight. He seemed to drink her in—his dark eyes sweeping her from head to toe. “I was hoping to find you. Irene said you’d gone for a walk.” He came alongside and slowed his step to match hers. “How are you feeling?”
“I do not plan to faint again, if you were concerned.” She tried to sound lighthearted, but it fell flat. “I’m fine.”
He nodded toward a piece of driftwood. “Why don’t we sit down.” He held her hand as she lowered herself and then sat beside her. “I know this is difficult for you, and I’m worried about how you’re doing.”
Her lips curved in a faint smile. “I’m not sure. Mostly, I feel as though I’m in a dream—that none of this is real. Yet I know it is, and I know that life must go on. There are people depending upon me, and I can’t let them down.”
“You need to take care of yourself, Audrey. There’s nothing that can’t wait until later. Besides, you have Irene and Thora. Between their arguments, they’re going to manage just fine.”
“I know you’re right, and I’m trying to get my proper rest, but there are decisions I need to make about my future and the future of Bridal Fair.”
A curl fluttered across her face, and he reached forward, tucking it behind her ear. Her skin tingled at the sensation. He leaned toward her until their lips were no more than a hairsbreadth apart. She held her breath and wondered if he would kiss her. Her heart pounded beneath the bodice of her black mourning dress. Did she want him to kiss her, or were these emotions surfacing because she’d lost her father? Perhaps she simply wanted to fill the hole that had taken up residence in her heart since his death.
“Audrey, I—”
“Miss Audrey, Miss Audrey, we’ve come looking for shells!” Josie Wahler shouted with delight as she and her sister came running toward them, their father close behind.
Audrey couldn’t be certain who scooted backward first, Marshall or herself. Either way, it didn’t matter. Marshall managed to maintain his balance, but she slipped off the piece of driftwood and, dress askew, landed on her backside.
The doctor stared down at the two of them. “I do hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”
Audrey attempted to maintain a modicum of dignity, which proved difficult. “No, of course not. I’m afraid I lost my balance.” With arms and legs akimbo, she likely resembled a turtle that had fallen off a log and landed upside down on its shell. Marshall leaned down and extended his hand while the twins giggled in the background. Their gazes locked as Marshall pulled her to her feet and into his arms. For the briefest of moments she held his embrace before he stepped aside. She had the strangest urge to reach up and touch his lips with her fingertips.
What would it be like to kiss him? She didn’t want to admit it—not even to herself—but she wished Dr. Wahler and the twins hadn’t appeared.
Chapter 17
Christmas arrived without much fanfare. Old Blue Lightning hadn’t been located, and Mr. Morley had declared there wasn’t much reason for the men to remain on the island during the holidays. Although the women served an exceptional dinner of baked ham, candied yams, and Aunt Thora’s traditional pecan pie, the day passed quietly. Most of the workers had traveled home for the holidays, and even Marshall had been absent. The only visitor on Christmas Day was Old Sam, who stopped by to leave a basket of fresh shrimp. He mentioned that one of his felines had given birth recently and if they wanted a kitten or two, they were surely welcome to them.
“They won’t be as fine a cat as old Samson,” he said with a wink. “Seems to me ain’t hardly any cat as fine as that ol’ gentleman
. But they’s sure to be a passable one or two in the litter.”
Audrey thought it might be a nice surprise for the twins but then remembered Dr. Wahler’s comment about animals. He’d likely be opposed to such a surprise. “I can ask Dr. Wahler if he’ll permit his daughters to have one of them, but I doubt he’ll agree.”
“Too bad. I’m guessing those little gals would be mighty happy to have a pet. Let me know if the doctor gives in to the idea.” He waved and strode off, whistling as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
Other than this, the holidays were rather somber and lonely. Dr. Wahler, Sadie, and the twins returned to Atlanta for a two-week visit, and the investors, including Mr. Morley, enjoyed the holiday with their families at their respective homes in various cities. Irene returned to Pittsburgh with Mr. Morley, and Marshall departed for a short visit to Savannah. Audrey tried to put the quiet time to good use. She caught up on some much-needed mending and sewing and took more time for Bible reading, but she found herself quite happy to see the workers return after New Year’s Day—especially Marshall and Irene. Thora seemed happy to have the younger woman back, as well. She didn’t even seem to mind that Irene had been visiting folks up north and listened intently to Irene’s stories.
“I have a surprise for you,” Irene told Aunt Thora.
The old woman seemed indignant. “I don’t much like surprises.”
But Audrey knew better. Aunt Thora was just embarrassed. Irene withdrew a small handkerchief-wrapped object from her pocket.
“I know it’s a little late for Christmas gifts, so we’ll just call this a New Year’s novelty.”
Aunt Thora unwrapped the present and stared at it for a moment. Enclosed was a small carved-shell cameo brooch. Audrey was first to comment. “That is lovely.”
“Thora was telling me how she’d lost hers during the War of Northern Aggression,” Irene supplied. “When I mentioned it to my mother, she suggested such an item would make a perfect gift.”
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