Slipping away after lunch proved a bit more difficult than Wes had anticipated. Without his knowledge or agreement, his mother had scheduled a game of family croquet. For once, his brother Daniel and brother-in-law, Richard, sided with him and agreed that the men should not be included in the game. His mother had finally acquiesced but only after reminding them that she would accept no excuses regarding the upcoming masked ball.
They had all agreed they wouldn’t dream of missing the event. Had he been able to discover some way to avoid the dance, Wes would have done so, but he knew the other men in the family used such events to broaden their search for possible investors. For years he’d watched his father and oldest brother, Charles, work their way through a room. He disliked the way these men seemed to use each other to advantage. Of course, it wasn’t only his relatives—among the wealthy, it had become a customary way of making connections and doing business. Watching these men through the years was one of the reasons Wesley had chosen a profession that would lead him away from the business world.
And though his medical career had proved to be a disastrous mistake, his decision to eschew the family business remained a steadfast choice. He didn’t want to be there, and he didn’t believe God wanted him there, either. Perhaps working as a golf pro this winter would give him—and God—time to formulate a plan. He smiled, thinking of Miss Deboyer and her prayers for the other golfers. She said she prayed over concerns of both great and small consequence, but he wondered if she’d ever faced a matter of enormous import. Probably not. She appeared to be a young woman who had sailed through life with little difficulty.
Walking toward the golf course, his gaze fell upon several interesting plants, and once again he wondered if he could best use his skills to serve mankind through research. With his love of botany and his strong medical background, that made the most sense. And yet, he remained unsure. As he entered the caddie shack, he pushed aside thoughts of his future career and greeted Ted, the caddie who had accompanied him on the course yesterday.
Two other men were inside the shack, and Ted tipped his cap and pointed his thumb toward one of them. “This here’s Mr. Nusbaum. I told him you’d be coming to see him.” The young man grinned. “I see you brought your clubs.”
“Couldn’t come to the golf course without clubs, now could I?”
The caddie motioned to the other man. “I’m ready to hit the links whenever you are, Mr. Branson.”
Mr. Nusbaum extended his hand. “Ted tells me you’re quite a golfer—said your name was Wes and you’ve won a few tournaments. I assume you’ve got a last name, but Ted said he couldn’t recall it.”
“Townsend. Wesley Townsend.” Wes gripped the man’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Good to meet you.”
The supervisor motioned toward a couple of worn wooden chairs. “Sit down and let’s talk.” He settled on one of the chairs and withdrew a pipe from his inside pocket. “So you’re interested in working as our golf pro?”
Though he would have preferred to keep his identity secret, Wes wouldn’t dare attempt to hide the fact that he and his family were guests staying at the clubhouse. After explaining that instead of participating in some of the other activities, he’d prefer to work at the golf course, he leaned back and stared at Mr. Nusbaum. “Are you willing to give me a try?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m between the devil and the deep blue sea, and you’re making me a good proposition. I like the idea that you’re willing to step aside if Bobby should show up, which I doubt at this point. What I don’t like is that you and your family are guests at the hotel. It could make some of the other workers uncomfortable. And maybe some of the guests, too.” He arched his brows. “Know what I mean?”
Wes nodded. “I do. If you like, I could try to keep it under my hat, but there might be guests who would see me at the clubhouse and recognize me. I think if we tell any concerned guests that I’m not being paid and have agreed to step in and help because of the circumstances, there would be no problem.”
“Why would you do that?” He hesitated. “Are you thinking if you don’t take pay you could come and go as you please? I can’t say that I have a golf pro available and then not be able to count on you.”
Wes straightened and shook his head. “I’d do it because I’d prefer to be on the links rather than sitting in the clubhouse, and because I can help. Who knows? One day I may decide upon this becoming my profession.”
Mr. Nusbaum took a match to his pipe and puffed on the stem until the tobacco took hold. “Now, why in the world would a fellow from a family of wealthy businessmen consider a future as a golf pro? Makes no sense.”
Wes shrugged. “I doubt it will ever happen, but if it does, I’d be pleased to have a reference. Do you golf, Mr. Nusbaum?”
“No. I don’t have time for playing sports. I’m too busy trying to make sure the guests are happy.” He held the stem of his pipe in the corner of his mouth. “And if I was going to take up a sport, it wouldn’t be golf. Can’t make much sense of the game, but I know it’s become important to folks who frequent resorts.” He motioned toward the course. “We’ve expanded this one—started out pretty small years ago, but now it’s eighteen holes and considered a pretty good course around these parts.”
“I agree. It’s a course that requires a good deal of skill on the last nine holes but is easy enough on the first nine that beginners aren’t discouraged.”
“Right. That’s what Bobby said, too.” Mr. Nusbaum removed the pipe from his mouth. “I know what you’ve told me about your game and the trophies you’ve won, but if I get complaints from the guests that they’re unhappy with your abilities, I’ll . . .”
Wes held up his hand. “If you get complaints, I want to know. And if you or the guests are unhappy with my performance, then I’ll step aside just the same as I said I would if Bobby McLaren returns.”
“I don’t suppose there’s much more I could ask for, though I do feel that I’m taking advantage of you. We’ll see how things work out, and if all goes well and you should need that reference letter in the future, I’ll be glad to oblige.”
Wes extended his hand. “Then we’ve got a deal. All I need to know is when I begin and what lessons are scheduled.”
“You can begin right now. I’ll go up to the clubhouse and see that notices are sent to all of the guests who have signed up for lessons.” Mr. Nusbaum clapped Wesley on the shoulder. “Glad to have you here, Mr. Townsend.”
“I think you should call me Wes, don’t you?”
Mr. Nusbaum chuckled as he knocked the tobacco from his pipe bowl. “You’re right, Wes.” He tucked the pipe into his pocket. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow and see how things are going. If there’s an emergency, send one of the caddies running.” He stopped in the doorway. “When Ted returns, tell him to inform the caddies I’ve hired a golf pro, and they’ll be back on their regular schedule.”
“Yes, sir.” Wes waved as he bid the supervisor good-bye.
Once alone, he surveyed the small building that acted as a resting spot where the caddies could gather in between games as well as a storage space for golf clubs and belongings the members didn’t want to shuffle back and forth to their cottages or the clubhouse. Though it wasn’t grand, there were benches where players could rest, and the few who wore hobnail-spiked shoes could sit on the benches and change. There was an adjacent room he hadn’t seen on his previous visit, one with more comfortable chairs and a few tables scattered about. He would be quite happy spending any free time in the small frame building.
“Is anyone here?”
At the sound of a woman’s voice in the front office, Wes stepped to the doorway that separated the rooms. Unexpected pleasure swept over him when he caught sight of Miss Deboyer standing in front of the desk. Jagged shards of sunlight streamed through the side window and danced like fireflies on the dark curls peeking from beneath her straw hat.
“Good afternoon, Miss Deboyer. It is a pleasure to see you again.”
He didn’t miss the surprise that shone in her dark brown eyes that were a near match for her hair. “And may I say that I’m doubly pleased there isn’t a bicycle involved in our meeting this time.” He smiled and hoped his joke wouldn’t offend her. When she chuckled, he relaxed and strode to the desk. “Are you here about the golf lessons?”
“Yes. The fellow who was in here yesterday told me that Mr. Nusbaum would be available to give me information about the lack of a golf instructor.” She glanced toward the other room. “He said he would be here after lunch. I know I’m a bit late, but I thought he would wait an extra few minutes. Did you see him?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
“Did he happen to mention if there’d been any news from Bobby McLaren? Thomas is eager to begin his golf lessons, and I do hope someone is going to make proper arrangements.”
“Arrangements have been made. You are speaking to the newly hired golf pro. I am certain teaching you and Thomas will give me great pleasure.” He sounded like a foolish schoolboy, but she fascinated him. This young woman combined elegance and practicality in a way he’d never before experienced.
“You? I thought you were one of the gardeners or groundskeepers.”
Wesley was momentarily taken aback when he realized she thought he was a club employee rather than a guest. The idea pleased him. She was a refreshing young woman, and if she knew he was a guest, she’d likely become quite formal—and embarrassed. “I have studied botany, but I don’t believe I said that I worked as a gardener, did I?”
She frowned. “No, I suppose you didn’t. I simply presumed that with your wealth of knowledge, you supervised the landscaping or helped preserve the island in some way.”
“I have a genuine love of botany and landscaping, but when I learned the golf pro had gone missing, I told Mr. Nusbaum of my qualifications and he agreed to give me a try. The guests will be unhappy if they’re without an instructor for the entire season.” He gestured toward the clubhouse. “Mr. Nusbaum is currently delivering notes to guests who had enrolled.”
“I see. Well, I suppose . . .” She glanced toward the door.
He could see she needed further convincing. “Once you’ve had your first lesson, I hope that you and Thomas will decide that golf instructor should be listed as one of my accomplishments. I’ve won several tournaments, but if you or Thomas find my lessons ineffective, I’ll ask that any payment be refunded to Mr. Bridgeport.”
A hint of pink colored her cheeks. “No, no. I didn’t mean to imply you aren’t qualified. I was simply surprised by the turn of events.” She fidgeted with her belt, obviously uncertain and perhaps embarrassed that she’d challenged him.
“I completely understand your confusion, Miss Deboyer.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she graced him with a cheerful smile. “Since Thomas missed his lesson yesterday, perhaps you have time this afternoon.”
Wes glanced at the book. “If you could be back in half an hour, I believe the three of us would have time for nine holes.”
“Oh, I don’t have clubs, so you should have ample time. I’ll walk along with the two of you and watch.”
He smiled and pointed his thumb toward the storage area. “There’s a caddie bag and clubs with your name on them in the storage area—right beside the ones belonging to Thomas.”
She let her gaze rest on the row of caddie bags and grinned as she recalled telling him she feared clunking a player on the head. “I think you should be very afraid, Wes. Teaching me how to golf may prove to be quite an ordeal.”
He touched his forehead in a mock salute. “I believe I’m up to the challenge, Miss Callie.”
She turned and headed for the door. “It may take me a little more than a half hour. I need to stop by the tennis courts and tell the instructor that Thomas will be golfing this afternoon.”
Wes nodded. “I’ll be right here.”
Callie pedaled toward the tennis course. Best to stop there first and then fetch Thomas. She was pleased when she spotted Mr. Penniman standing near the court. He waved and shot her an exaggerated smile as she pulled alongside him.
“You’re a little early, but we can use the extra time to visit.” He reached for the handlebars of her bicycle.
“I’m not staying, Mr. Penniman. I came by to tell you that you could remove Thomas from your schedule for this afternoon. I must get back to the cottage, or we’ll be late for his golf lesson.”
She lifted her foot to the pedal, but Archie maintained a hold on the handlebars. “I hadn’t heard anything about Bobby McLaren returning to the island. Who’s giving lessons?”
Callie hesitated, realizing she still didn’t know the instructor’s last name. “His first name is Wes, but that’s as much as I can tell you. I’m sure Mr. Nusbaum could answer your questions.” She glanced at his hand. “I really must go or we’ll be late.”
“I’m disappointed I won’t see you this afternoon. I was hoping you would agree to spend the evening with me. Some of the employees are going over to the beach. There will be a bonfire, and we could get to know each other a little better.”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t, Mr. Penniman. My evenings are usually filled with caring for the Bridgeport children or other family activities. My duties go beyond that of a regular work schedule.”
“But surely you must have some free time. Don’t the children have a nurse to help care for them?”
Callie placed her foot back on the ground. “How did you know that?”
“I-I didn’t know it to be a fact, but most of these rich folks have got a servant to take care of everything from shining the silver to laying out their clothes, isn’t that right?”
“I’m sure it depends on each household, Mr. Penniman. Now, if you’ll turn loose of my handlebars, I really must be on my way.”
He tipped his head to the side and smiled. “You never did answer my question. You must have a bit of free time for some fun.”
“I never know in advance, Mr. Penniman. Other than during Thomas’s lessons, I don’t think we’ll be seeing each other.”
“And during your lessons—let’s don’t forget that you’re supposed to learn the game as well as your young charge.”
“We’ll see, Mr. Penniman. Now, if you would please remove your hand?”
He released his hold on the bike. “I’m doing as you asked, but not because it’s what I’d like.”
She rode off before he could think of some other way to delay her. Perhaps he thought his forward attitude was the way to win a girl’s heart, but she found his behavior unnerving.
Chapter 9
“Where have you been all day?” Daniel strode into Wesley’s room with a frown as sour as his tone of voice.
Still holding his black tie in one hand, Wesley stepped back to the mirror. “Good evening to you too, Daniel.”
His brother stepped behind him and looked into the mirror. “You didn’t answer my question. Where have you been all day? Mother’s been worried.”
Wes positioned his tie beneath the wing-tipped shirt collar. “I’m twenty-five. I don’t think Mother or any of the rest of you need to worry about my whereabouts. However, if it will set your mind—or hers—at ease, I’ve been at the golf course.”
Daniel turned away and dropped onto the brocade sofa. “I knew it. I told Father I was sure we could find you at the golf course.”
“I thought Mother was the one concerned about my whereabouts.”
Daniel folded his arms across his chest and glared at Wes, looking much like an irate parent. “We were all concerned. Mother realized you were missing when Father inquired if anyone had seen you. Father had hoped to have you sit down with us so that we could discuss your new position.”
Wesley sighed. “I’ve told all of you that I have no desire to become a manager in the mills. What must I do to make him understand that I have no passion for business?”
“Passion? Come on, Wes. We’re talking about a job—you know, work. A place where we ea
rn money to live in this manner. And don’t argue that you don’t have a head for business. It’s not as though the rest of us completed college and were prepared to assume our positions. It will take a bit of time for you to become acclimated, but eventually you’ll adjust.” Daniel traced his fingers along the fabric of the brocade sofa. “Charles and I agree that so long as you continue to avoid coming into the business, you are playing with fire. He wants to continue to grow, and he has promised the investors that he has the right person to lead us forward in this expansion.”
“Well, that certainly wouldn’t be me. You and Charles have what it takes to work in the mills. I don’t.”
Daniel frowned. “You could learn if you wanted to. Besides, Father is losing patience.”
Wesley turned to face his brother. “I think Father is capable of speaking for himself. You and Charles may be older than me, but I don’t need the two of you conspiring about my future.”
“We’re not conspiring. We’re trying to help you.”
“When I want help, I’ll ask. Your time would be better spent helping your wives and children.”
“Listen, Wes, you need to accept your lot in life. You had your chance to go off and do as you wanted, but if you’re not going to practice medicine, it’s time to contribute.”
Wes sat down on the arm of the couch. “Tell me, Daniel, didn’t you ever have a desire to do anything other than step into the family business?”
His brother’s features softened. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I wanted to be a sailor, but Father pointed out the folly of such a decision.”
To Honor and Trust Page 8