Her words were the sweetest he’d ever heard. She must feel the same way he did. He didn’t have to wait to ask for her hand in marriage. As soon as they were back at Biltmore, he would ask her to be his wife. His heart nearly exploded from happiness.
Melissa turned the vehicle with ease when they reached a level spot, and they raced back to the stable. She parked it and turned off the motor. “That was so … so … I can’t think of any words to describe it. Thank you, Ned.”
He took a deep breath. This was the moment. He knew it in his heart. Vanderbilt would surely help him get started. His future was secure. He could admit his feelings. “Melissa, I have something I’ve wanted to say to you.”
Her green gaze sobered. “What is it?”
He took both of her hands in his. “In the past weeks, working with you, I’ve come to realize what a special person you are.”
Melissa’s fingers fluttered inside his. Her gaze dropped to the seat. “Don’t—”
He overrode her protest. He had to get the words out to let her know how he felt. “I love you, Melissa. Will you be my wife?”
Silence greeted his question. He waited for her to say something, do something, look at him. “Melissa?”
“I … Ned, you don’t know the real me.” When she finally looked at him, her eyes were filled with tears. “I can’t.” She jerked her hands away and slid out of the horseless carriage.
“Melissa, stop.”
She shook her head and ran into the side entrance to the main house. He thought he heard a sob just before the door slammed shut behind her.
“What’s going on out here?” As Ned got out of the motorcar, Robert appeared at the stable entrance. “Did you and Melissa finally succeed? Where is she?”
“She went inside.” Ned stalked past him without further explanation. He’d been an idiot to ask her today. He had shocked her. He should have kept his mind on Vanderbilt and the motorcar. Once he’d secured their future, Nedcould spend whatever time it took to convince Melissa to marry him.
“This lever turns the front wheels.” Ned demonstrated the maneuverability of his vehicle to Mr. Vanderbilt as his motorcar sped along the road toward the hills behind Biltmore. He had wanted to take his passengers to the village, but Mr. Vanderbilt had insisted they go in the opposite direction. Somewhat concerned about putting such a strain on his engine by negotiating the steep back roads, he prayed the recent repairs would hold.
“May I try it?” Vanderbilt reached a hand toward the steering lever.
Ned slowed the vehicle some and nodded, hoping the man would not steer them off the road. After several minutes he relaxed. If the smile on his face was an indication, Vanderbilt was pleased.
“How does it feel?” Horace, the man who’d convinced Vanderbilt to give Ned a chance, lounged in the backseat.
“It’s rather exhilarating.”
Ned breathed a thankful prayer and glanced over his shoulder to smile at Horace. A sudden jerk made his stomach clench. He twisted back around in time to see one of the front tires run over a boulder. Ned took his foot completely off the accelerator, but the vehicle was already moving too fast. Mr. Vanderbilt lost control of the steering lever and the vehicle careened off the road, running over bushes and small trees as it headed down the slope of a hill. Ned grabbed the steering lever with both hands, pushed downon the clutch with his left foot, and applied pressure to the brake pedal with his right. But still his vehicle plunged forward, jostling all three of the men as it bounced across the uneven terrain.
Death loomed in the form of the rushing river at the bottom of the hill. Ned didn’t know if he could stop the vehicle in time. “Jump!”
“What?” Vanderbilt’s voice was filled with horror.
“Jump. Both of you. Get out of the motorcar!” He shouted the instructions as he fought for control. The carriage was picking up speed. If they didn’t jump soon, it would be too late.
Vanderbilt went first, landing in a clump of bushes. Horace was right behind him, his body rolling with the impact. As soon as he knew both men were free of the vehicle, Ned let go of the steering column and jumped, tucking his head and shoulders. As soon as he stopped rolling, Ned sprang to his feet, paying no heed to the scrapes on his hands and legs. His motorcar had already splashed into the river and now bobbed like a piece of cork as it was swept away in the strong current. Ignoring it, he ran back up the hill toward the other men. “Are you all right?”
Horace’s coat had torn and his hat was missing, but he didn’t seem to have any broken bones. Mr. Vanderbilt also seemed miraculously free of serious injury, but the anger on his face did not bode well.
“I’m so sorry—”
Mr. Vanderbilt raised a hand to silence him. “I don’t want to hear a word from you. In fact I want you off my land immediately.”
Ned opened his mouth to argue, but he could see by the look on the other man’s face that Mr. Vanderbilt was not going to change his mind. His heart stuttered.
Vanderbilt turned to his friend. “I lay part of the blame for this at your door, Horace. I should never have let you cajole me into ignoring my instincts. It’s a wonder we didn’t all lose our lives today. Horseless carriages are far too dangerous. I will not have them on my land. Ever.” Having finished his words, the angry man stomped away from them.
“George, wait for me,” Horace called to his friend. Then he turned to Ned. “I’m sorry, son, but I doubt you’ll ever convince him to change his mind now.”
Ned watched as the two men walked away and wondered what he would do now. He’d started the day with such high hopes. Where would he turn? What could he do?
Chapter 10
The moment she stepped into the stable, Melissa knew something was wrong. From the way Robert was waving his hands and shaking his head, it appeared he was arguing with the head coachman.
“I don’t care—” The head coachman broke off his statement as soon as he saw her. “Miss Melissa, is there something we can do for you?”
Silence filled the large space. “I—I was looking for Mr. Robinson.”
Neither man answered her. The coachman exhaled loudly and looked up toward the ceiling. Robert kicked at a bit of straw with one foot and shook his head.
“Robert?” Dread seeped into her chest. “What’s going on?”
He grabbed her arm and led her away from the other man. “Let’s go outside. We need to talk.”
Wondering what could have happened, she looked around and noticed Ned’s horseless carriage was no longer in the stall they had used while repairing it. Nor had it been outside where she parked it earlier. “Is it Ned?”
A brief nod answered her. Robert looked grim. He led her to a wide bench looking out over the front lawn. “Sit down.”
She complied and twisted her hands in her lap, huddling into the folds of her cloak. Even though the sun had risen several hours earlier, the air was still fairly cold. At least the wind was quiet this morning.
Robert sat next to her and took one of her hands in his. “There was an accident.”
Melissa gasped. “Accident? W-was Ned hurt again?”
“No. Nor Mr. Vanderbilt or the other guest who rode with them.” Robert glanced away from her as though considering how much to tell her.
“Go on.”
“Somehow the horseless carriage left the road. All three men had to jump free. It fell into the river, and someone said they fished it out down below the village. Mr. Vanderbilt is so angry he’s forbidden any horseless vehicles at Biltmore. I guess he’s worried someone will get hurt.”
She grabbed his sleeve with her free hand. “Where is Ned now?”
“He’s gone.”
“Gone? He can’t be gone.” Disbelief turned to grief as she saw the truth in her friend’s gaze. Tears pressed at her eyes. She sniffed once and turned away from him.
Robert put an arm around her. “I was afraid something like this was going to happen. Ned is from a different part of the world. He was bound to le
ave one day.”
His words brought her head up. Her temper flared. How dare he malign Ned when he wasn’t here to defend himself? “Ned was planning to stay. He even asked me to marry him.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, wishing
she had not already said too much.
Robert’s arm dropped from her shoulders and gripped her elbow. “He did?” He drew her farther into the recesses of the stable so no one else would hear their discussion. “Did you accept?”
“No.” She forced the answer past her clogged throat. The tears had returned. They overflowed her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
“No wonder he left, then.” Robert’s blue eyes softened, and he held out his arms. “I didn’t realize how you really felt. I’m beginning to think you gave him the wrong answer.”
Everything inside her seemed to melt. She allowed Robert to hold her while she cried into his chest. It took awhile, but finally the tears were spent. She raised her head. “What else could I do? I’m not womanly enough for any man, especially not someone like Ned.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can’t do anything without making a mess.” She sniffed and accepted the handkerchief he offered. It reminded her of the time Ned had done the same, and she nearly fell apart again. But she knew she was right. “I don’t have the slightest idea how to make him a comfortable home like the woman in Proverbs.”
Robert’s smile was gentle. “We all have God-given talents. Did you ever think yours might be perfect for a man interested in manufacturing horseless carriages?”
Could he be right? Melissa shook her head, rejecting his idea. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s gone. Without Mr. Vanderbilt’s help, he’ll never open a shop in Biltmore Village. I doubt we’ll ever see him again.” She hoped Robert would have an answer for her, but he simply shrugged.
She handed him his handkerchief and returned to the main house, her heart heavy. She knew it would be hard to work on the holiday decorations without Ned alternately helping and teasing her, but somehow she would have to complete her task.
She prayed for strength as she climbed the steps to the third floor to begin hanging the greenery she and Ned had put together the day before. Christmas was only a few days away, and she had loads of work to do. Other servants would be involved, but not the one person Melissa wanted to have at her side. She might as well be doing her job alone.
Ned didn’t know where to turn. He considered his options as he walked the three miles to Biltmore Village. Who would help him there? Would word already have reached the village he no longer had George Vanderbilt’s support? He passed through the main gate and looked around. His gaze rested on the tall church tower. Perhaps the pastor could guide him. He strode to the large building and pushed the door open. “Brother Martin?” His voice echoed in the empty chamber.
Ned stepped inside and waited a moment for his vision to adjust. Sunlight, filtered by the stained glass windows, streaked the aisle, and washed his clothing with color as he moved toward the altar. A door opened and closed toward the back of the room, and Brother Martin appeared, a smile on his face and a Bible in his hand. “Welcome, Mr. Robinson. How may I be of service?”
Emotion welled up inside him. Ned wanted to cry like a child. But he could not. He was a grown man. So he swallowed hard and clenched his jaw. “I’ve messed up everything.”
“I doubt that.” Brother Martin sat down on the front pew and invited him to do the same with a gesture. “Why don’t you tell me what’s happened.”
Ned told his story, haltingly at first. He described the accident and Mr. Vanderbilt’s ire. He even talked about Melissa and her refusal to marry him. When he finished, he felt drained but a little more peaceful. “What should I do?”
Brother Martin patted his shoulder. “You must trust God.”
“Of course I trust God.” He frowned at the pastor.
“It seems to me you are depending on your own strengths to see you through. Are you putting your faith in Him? Or in your own abilities?”
The questions struck him with the force of physical blows. He thought of the time and effort he had put into making his dream of manufacturing horseless carriages a reality. But had he asked God if that was what he should be doing?
“God works in amazing ways.” Brother Martin opened his Bible, taking a moment to find the scripture he sought. “‘Some trust in chariots, and some in horses: but we will remember the name of the Lord our God.’ “
Ned bent forward as the pastor read, feeling the conviction of the words sink deep into his soul. Suddenly he could see how far he’d strayed from his faith. Instead of relying on God to lead him, he’d followed the path he wanted totake. And look where it had led him. Heartbroken. Lost. Uncertain of the future. He needed to return to the basics … to God’s Word.
“The Lord led me to this psalm this morning.” Brother Martin regained his attention. “I have to believe it was so He could speak to you, son.”
“Yes, sir, you’re right. I needed to hear that.” He could hear the shame in his voice. “What can I do to make it right?”
The other man’s smile warmed him. “Let’s pray and see what the Lord has in mind.”
Ned prayed humbly for forgiveness. He could see how willful he’d become over the past weeks, even months. Was he supposed to be here? Should he return home? What about Melissa? Was he supposed to forget his feelings for her? The questions ran round and round in his mind. Eventually the peace of Christ filled him, and he let go of his shame and fear. As he opened his heart and mind to the Lord, ideas began to flow once more. Ideas he believed would lead to a brighter future.
When they finished praying, Brother Martin invited him to take tea in his parlor. Ned accepted, and the two men left the church together, discussing possible solutions. The hot tea and cookies Brother Martin’s housekeeper served them made him feel better, too. He was about to take his leave when a knock sounded at the pastor’s front door.
“I wonder who that can be.” Brother Martin looked out the nearby window. “It looks like one of the horses from Mr. Vanderbilt’s stable.”
Ned wondered if Vanderbilt had sent someone to findhim and make sure he left the village. He had certainly been angry enough to make the idea plausible. A sense of dread filled him as he recognized the familiar face of the Biltmore stable hand. Had Robert come looking for him?
Chapter 11
The church was noisy, and nearly every pew was filled when Melissa entered on Christmas morning. She should have gotten up earlier, but she had not slept well, which made it hard to rise with the sun.
Mama Elsie waved her to an empty spot in her pew. “I was afraid you were sick.”
Melissa shook her head. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”
Brother Martin stepped to the pulpit and waited for the stragglers to find places to sit. Slowly the room quieted. “Stand with me as we welcome the Lord with stanzas from ‘O Come All Ye Faithful.’ “
As she stood, Melissa allowed her gaze to wander across the congregation. Something about the tilt of one man’s head and shoulders drew her attention. Ned. He was here! He hadn’t left, after all. Her heart seemed to take flight as the rest of the people in the room began singing. Why was Ned still in Biltmore Village? His dream of starting a business was over. So what business did he still have here?
The hymn ended, and Melissa willed herself to pay attention to the beautiful story of Christ’s birth as Brother Martin read from the Gospel of Luke. The words came alive to her, carried her back almost two thousand years to a frightened young couple and their newborn child.
“We are here to celebrate the birth of our Lord, as Christians have done for hundreds of years.” Brother Martin motioned for everyone to sit as he began his sermon. “This morning I want to talk a little about Jesus’ mother. She was a woman of practicality, a talent we don’t spend much time thinking about. But consider how lost she must have felt, far from home and family, when she and Joseph could no
t find an open inn or home in Bethlehem. I wonder if she wasn’t the one who suggested they spend the night in a stable. When Christ was born, I like to imagine her looking around and seeing the manger. She may have asked Joseph to place fresh straw in it while she wrapped the newborn babe in swaddling clothes.”
Melissa had never considered practicality a talent. Was it true? Had God gifted her with the ability to engineer practical solutions? A hint of hope brightened her morning. She could feel her lips bending upward. The future did not seem as dark and dreary as she had thought when she dragged herself out of bed.
As Melissa considered the idea that she, too, had talents, Brother Martin drew his sermon on Mary to a close. “We’ve spent the last two Sundays concentrating on Christ’s earthly parents, and I hope it’s helped you see them with new eyes. As you spend your day feasting and enjoying the company of your loved ones, stop and think a few minutes about Mary and Joseph. Their trust in God’s plan saw them through hardship and trials. It can do the same for us.”
The organist took his cue from the pastor, and thestrains of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” filled the church sanctuary. Melissa sang along with the others, her heart lighter than it had been in days. She could hardly wait to talk to Ned. As soon as the hymn was over, she gathered her bonnet and cloak, hugged Mama Elsie, and slid out of the pew.
Where was he? She looked all around at the people still inside the church but could see no sign of him. Where had he gone? Had she imagined him? No. She was certain it had been Ned. Was he avoiding her? Her heart pounded. Whatever the reason, Ned obviously no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. She sighed and plodded down the aisle, her earlier joy dimmed by his disappearance.
She tried to move closer to the front door, but the crowd slowed her progress. Step by step she moved forward, trying to force a smile as people pressed against her. Finally she stepped across the threshold. Dozens of people still milled about at the corner. At first she couldn’t see why, but then a break in the crowd allowed her to catch a glimpse of something shiny on the road—a horseless carriage. Melissa’s breath caught. Could it be?
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