She had not seen Mikal all week. For all she knew, he might already be on his way back to New York without giving her so much as a wave good-bye! At times she had thought he was the kindest man on earth, but sometimes he seemed totally heartless. Oh, God, please don’t let Mikal leave without seeing me again!
It occurred to Margaret that the only time she ever prayed was when she wanted something. God had been very good to her, and yet she had never thought to thank Him for anything. Like a spoiled child, she was always asking, and then asking for more.
She looked at her helper, bent over the cutting table. “Amy, do you go to church?”
Amy straightened and rubbed her lower back with her hands. “Yes, I do, and I’ve been aimin’ to ask you if you wanted to come along. Alex and I go to that little church on the corner every Sunday and to prayer meeting on Wednesday nights. Would you like to go with us next Sunday?”
“I might,” Margaret said. “I’m afraid I’ve neglected my spiritual life for a long time. Do you think it’s too late for me to change?”
Amy walked over and put an arm across her shoulders. “Margaret, it’s never too late for Jesus. Even when we’re not looking for Him, He’s always standing there knocking, waiting for us to let Him in. You don’t even have to wait until Sunday. You could give Him your heart right here and now.”
“I–I don’t know, Amy. I’m not sure I’m ready to make a full commitment. I need time to think about this. I have so much on my mind right now, but I would like to go to church with you and Alex on Sunday.”
“Alex and I will keep you in our prayers.” Amy gave her shoulder a little squeeze and returned to her work with a smile on her face.
Margaret picked up her feather duster and began to flick it over the books and shelves. She had so many important decisions to make, and one of them loomed only a day and a half away.
A voice behind her said, “Could I buy a book today, ma’am?”
Margaret felt a rush of blood to her face. Mikal could not fool her; she would recognize his voice even in a crowd. Her knees felt like wet cardboard as she turned to greet him, and a shiver ran through her body.
“Good morning.” Her tone was crisp and polite, just as it was for any other customer who entered the shop. She must not let him think that she cared one iota about his absence all week, or that she had even noticed.
“Is that all?” he asked. “Just ‘good morning’?”
“What were you expecting me to say?” Margaret could feel the crimson heat in her cheeks, and no amount of effort on her part could prevent it.
“Oh, maybe just something like, ‘It’s good to see you’ or ‘How are you today?’ ”
“It’s good to see you. How are you today?” In spite of herself, Margaret had to laugh, especially when she heard Mikal’s own infectious laughter.
“Did all these pretty roses come from your garden? I didn’t even know that you had a green thumb!”
“Come over here and meet Amy,” she said, ignoring his question about the flowers. She grabbed his hand and dragged him across the room. “This is Alex’s mother, and she’s our newest employee. Amy, this is Mikal, my, uh, business partner.”
“How do you do, Amy? Well, this calls for a celebration,” Mikal said, “and I know just the place. There’s an open-air pavilion down on the waterfront that has a big clambake on the beach every Friday night. They boil shrimp, too, and everybody has a grand time. Why don’t I take the two of you and Alex, and we’ll all go down there and sample their wares tomorrow night?”
Amy looked to Margaret for her cue, and Margaret felt her face grow hot again. “It sounds very nice, Mikal, but I–I have already made plans for tomorrow night.”
“I see,” Mikal said with a clipped tone. His smile dropped, and he turned his attention back to the bookshelf to avoid meeting her eyes. “It looks as though I need to bring more books next time I come. I’ll just take an inventory of what’s left, so I’ll know what to buy.”
He busied himself with the books while Margaret continued with her dusting. Amy returned to the cutting table, and an awkward silence enveloped the room. After several minutes, Mikal turned back to Margaret and said, “Now that you have Amy here to wait on the customers, could you manage to slip away for a few minutes? We could go down to the café and have a cup of coffee or tea, if you prefer—or have you already made plans for the morning as well?”
Margaret ignored his biting sarcasm. “I do not have plans for this morning, Mikal. I will get my wrap.”
❧
Sitting across from him at the same table where they had eaten oysters on one of their happier days, Margaret tried to keep her teacup from shaking in her hands. She was determined to keep their conversation pleasant and impersonal. “Have you and John been successful with your planning this week?”
“Yes, I think so. Look, Margaret, I—”
“And what do you think of Amy? She’s such a big help to me. I think her help will more than compensate for the small salary she earns.”
“That’s good. Now, Margaret—”
“Her real name is America. America McCutcheon. I suppose she’s of Scottish ancestry. So many of the ladies around here are, you know.”
“Stop it, Margaret. You know as well as I do that we did not come here to talk about Amy’s ancestry. I want to talk about our relationship.”
“Our relationship? Do we have one, Mikal?”
“Well, of course we do. We have a–a business relationship, and it is very important to me that we establish a good reputation in this town.” Mikal’s words were not coming out the way he intended, because the truth was that he had no idea just what message he intended to convey. He only knew that he must find some way to keep Margaret out of the arms of Harry Robards.
“Just what are you implying, Mikal? Do you feel that I am threatening the reputation of our business relationship?” Her green eyes flashed fire. When she saw him spluttering for a reply, she saved him the effort. “I know exactly where this conversation is going, Mikal. You are upset about my friendship with Harry Robards, and I have already told you that I will choose my own social life. Could we talk about something else?”
“I’m only trying to help you, Margaret. Harry Robards is known around here as a ladies’ man. I hope that you are too intelligent to fall for his fancy clothes and his smooth talk. He’s not a man you can trust.”
Margaret was furious! Even though she had her own doubts about Harry’s integrity, Mikal had no right to interfere in her life. He wanted to stand on the sidelines and call all the shots without getting into the game himself! In a voice as calm as she could muster, she said, “It might interest you to know that Mr. Robards has asked me to be his wife.”
“His what?” Mikal jumped up so fast that his coffee cup went flying into the air and landed on the floor in a hundred pieces. In the ensuing confusion, Margaret turned and slipped quietly out the door.
❧
Margaret dressed carefully for her dinner with Harry Robards. Her hands shook as she pinned up her hair and fastened her cameo brooch at her neckline. She was wearing her only other fancy gown tonight, not wanting to wear the same thing she had worn the week before. If she did marry Harry, she would soon have a closet full of gowns, new ones every week, and a maid to dress her hair.
She still had a few questions to ask Harry before she gave him her final answer. She was not sure how long his patience would hold out, but she couldn’t be rushed into a decision that would affect the rest of her life.
When she finished dressing, she went downstairs to wait for his carriage.
❧
Mikal and John walked along the waterfront, listening to the music and sampling the hot, steamed delicacies from the gulf. “Apalachicola is truly the oyster capital of the world, my friend,” John proclaimed, letting one of the delicious creatures slide down his throat. “I’ve sampled them up and down both coasts, and in Europe as well, but no place has a match for ours.”
“Yes,” Mikal said, his eyes cast over the white-capped blue waves. He had contributed little to the conversation tonight. He just could not erase the picture from his mind of Margaret and Harry sealing their promise with a kiss.
“What’s the matter, Mikal?” John finally asked. “You’re not enjoying yourself tonight. Why didn’t you bring your lady friend along if you’re going to moon over her all evening long?” He smiled and gave Mikal a playful jab in the ribs.
“As a matter of fact, I asked her, but she had already made plans.”
“Oh.”
“With Harry Robards.”
John drew in his breath. “Uh-oh. Now I see what’s spoiled your mood. Well, perhaps you misjudged her after all. If she’s Harry’s type, then she surely isn’t yours. You’d be well to be done with her.”
Mikal sprang to her defense. “She’s not his type at all, John. That’s the trouble. She’s just so sweet and naïve. I just don’t want her to be hurt or taken advantage of.”
John looked at Mikal for several minutes. The two men had known each other for a long time, and they were almost as close as brothers. “Mikal, you’re in love with that woman. It’s written all over your face.” When Mikal made no move to deny it, John continued, “Well, you have to do something about it. Have you told her yet? Does she know that you love her?”
“No, of course not. I’ve already explained to you how I feel about that. I won’t ask her to live the lonely life of a sailor’s wife. It wouldn’t be fair; I love her too much for that.”
“So instead, you’d leave her to someone like Harry Ro-bards? Do you think that’s where she’ll find happiness? Why don’t you tell her how you feel and let her make up her own mind about the kind of life she wants to lead? If you really want to be fair to the lady, Mikal, you owe her your total honesty.”
“I’d never thought of it in just that way, John, although she has reminded me on several recent occasions that she’s capable of making her own decisions. Perhaps you’re right, but that still doesn’t settle the other issue.”
“What issue is that?”
“Margaret has still not committed her life to Christ. You know what the Scriptures say about being unequally yoked. She is reading the Bible now. I’ve tried to lead her in the right direction, but unless she makes her own decision, it means nothing.”
John walked along in silence for several minutes, contemplating his answer. Finally he spoke. “My friend, I do not know if Margaret Porter is the woman God has intended for you or not. You are riding through a turbulent sea right now, but if you put your faith in Christ and trust Him, He will steer you on the right course.”
nineteen
The horses’ hooves clip-clopped down the wide brick avenue. Margaret sat next to Harry in the velvet-lined carriage, allowing him to hold her hand.
“You’ve had all week to think about this, Margaret. I’ve tried to be patient, but I can’t be dangled like a fish on a hook. I know many women who would not need even an hour to make the kind of decision you’ve been invited to make. What is it you’re trying to resolve? Is there someone else?”
“I’m not ‘many women,’ Harry. I’m me, Margaret Porter, and things just seem to be moving too fast for me lately. I feel as though I’m being whirled around in a cyclone. I guess I just need more time.”
“How much time does it take to say yes?” He squeezed her hand in the darkness.
“Harry, I still feel that we hardly know each other. Why, do you realize that I don’t even know what line of work you’re in? You’ve never told me what you do.”
“Women should not have to worry about unromantic things like a man’s work. I promise that you’ll be well provided for. You will be a real-life Cinderella, my dear.
“I’ve built a beautiful new home on the bluff overlooking the river, fully staffed with competent servants, and I want someone to share it with me. I need a sophisticated wife who can sit at the end of my table making intelligent conversation when I entertain, and I’m willing to share my name and my wealth with her. You, my dear, are the first woman I have ever asked to do me that honor.”
“That’s all very flattering, Harry, but I’d still like to know how do you make your living? Will you be away from home, traveling a lot?”
“I’ll be away a bit. And you’ll be free to travel, too. New England, Europe, the world will be at your doorstep. But this is the last time I am going to ask you, Margaret. Harry Robards is not a beggar. I will wait until tomorrow for your answer, but no longer. You’ve had ample time to reach a decision, and I must get on with my life.”
“You’re right, Harry. You’ve been very tolerant of my indecisiveness. Just let me sleep on it one more night. Come by my shop in the morning and I will give you my answer.”
The carriage slowed and then stopped in front of Margaret’s Millinery Shoppe, and this time when Harry drew her into his arms, she let him kiss her. His lips touched hers lightly at first, and she waited for the tingling sensation she had experienced when Mikal kissed her beneath the oaks in Tampa. But this time there was no sensation at all, and when his kisses grew more passionate and demanding, it set off an alarm in her head so that she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “Stop, Harry. I–I have to go in now.”
Harry groaned. “You certainly know how to tease a man, Margaret. But we will soon have things settled between us. You won’t get to tease me anymore.” He winked and gave her a salacious grin. She slipped her key into the lock and pushed open her door. “Good night, Harry.”
❧
Margaret snuggled beneath her blanket and let the events of the night play back through her mind. She was aware that Harry had never answered her questions about his occupation. What could he possibly be involved in that he would not want her to know about? Did he really only want to shield her from the everyday concerns of his work as he said, or did he have something to hide?
And there was another matter. If she was seriously thinking of spending the rest of her life with this man, then why did his kisses have so little effect on her? Could she learn to love Harry Robards the way Lucy White had learned to love her mail-order husband?
She tossed and turned for hours, and sleep eluded her until just before dawn. When she finally did drift off, her sleep was invaded by puzzling dreams. She sat in a strange dining room at the end of a very long table. A staff of uniformed servants circled the table, serving her guests exotic dishes. But the puzzling part was that the man who sat at the head of the table had neither sleek, black hair nor a mustache. He was clean shaven, and his hair was as blond as fine corn silk, curling softly where it met the edge of his collar.
❧
Who could ever have predicted the bedlam that was to take place in Margaret’s Millinery Shoppe the next morning? Amy arrived early and went right to work at the cutting table. She explained to Margaret that Alex would be in a little late this morning. Since it was Saturday, she decided to let him sleep in for a change, but he would be along soon to do his chores.
Next Mikal arrived, looking at once pleased and agitated. Margaret noticed dark circles beneath his eyes and wondered if he noticed the ones that must be under hers.
Pulling Margaret aside, he said, “I must speak to you in private.”
“Can it wait? I have to help Amy finish some work and get ready to open the shop at eight. We’ll have customers coming in here in less than an hour, and there is so much yet to be done.”
“All right. I’ll look through the books again, but as soon as you get a minute, I’d like to take you outside where we can talk.”
Margaret and Amy worked fast and furiously. Amy finished her cutting and swept up the scraps from beneath the cutting table, salvaging any pieces big enough for later use as trimming. Margaret used her needle and thread to add a bunch of yellow flowers to a green bonnet she had promised to have ready for Mrs. Raney this morning.
“We’d better unlock the door,” Amy said. “There are already two ladies standing outside
waiting to get in.”
Amy opened the door and welcomed them into the shop. “Come in, ladies.” And then she looked up to see the big carriage that had stopped just in front of her shop. “Oh, no!”
Harry Robards stepped down from the carriage, carrying his gold-tipped cane. He sprinted up to her door.
Just as Harry opened the door and started to walk through, Alex came running in at top speed, bumping against Harry’s leg in his hurry to attend to his chores. “Sorry I’m—”
“Just where do you think you’re going, young man?” Harry jerked the boy up by his shirt collar, and Alex dangled like an ornament on a Christmas tree, his brown eyes bulging with fright.
Before the child could answer, Harry headed him toward the door. “You little street urchins have no business coming into a shop like this. Be gone with you!” He shoved him roughly toward the door.
Alex, his eyes brimming with tears, turned back to protest. “But sir, I work here! I’m the boy that delivered your—”
“Work? I know your kind. The only work you ever do is steal from respectable people. Get out of here, I said.” With that, he used his boot to send the boy sprawling outside onto the sidewalk.
By now, the two lady customers had crowded toward the back of the store, blocking Margaret and Amy’s view so that at first they did not understand what had happened. But when realization set in, everything broke loose at once.
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