by Danni Roan
Carl followed the older man’s gaze out across the floor where the young man led her through the steps of the dance. As he watched, he could also see several other youngsters gazing at them with envy in their eyes.
Melissa and Paul swung into view, her bright emerald dress a lively contrast to his dove gray suit.
“They seem to get on now, don’t they,” Mr. Middleton said absently, making Carl’s hands once more ball into fists. “He’s from a good family, you know. She could do worse.”
Carl had nothing to say. Of course Melissa would marry well. She was young, wealthy, well-liked, and the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“You don’t forget to dance with my daughter now, Mr. McHain. She took pains to see that you could dance and I’d like to see her efforts proven worth it with my own eyes.” He smiled at Carl, his soft brown eyes seeming younger than his face should afford.
“My Mrs. likes a good dance. I think I’ll go and put her through her paces.” He winked, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Two more dances played themselves out before Carl had a chance to take Melissa in his arms. She was smiling when he stepped up and offered her his hand and the light dancing in her eyes was like the sparkle of diamonds.
He bowed low, longing to place his lips on her hand, but resisted the urge.
Without a word Mel fell into step with him and in moments they’d merged with the other dancers as the music rose. His hand was warm and strong on her waist, giving her a sense of security as their feet pounded across the planks.
Her smile widened as Carl grinned and together they took up the tempo of a Georgian Reel. She was breathless as the music wound down, but not from the steps. Instead her heart fluttered in her chest at the touch of Carl’s hand in hers.
They’d barely stopped a moment when the music turned again and a slow waltz began to play. She squeezed Carl’s hand, hoping he’d stay with her for one more dance.
Carl curled his hand around Melissa’s waist, the cool, smooth fabric sending electric shocks up his arm. Her skirt brushed the top of his shoes as he pulled her closer and let the music carry them away.
Melissa looked up into sky blue eyes and leaned toward the tall, solid form before her. Everywhere Carl touched her skin tingled and the heat she felt spreading through her middle had little to do with their recent activity.
She smiled as they moved as one through familiar steps and the world around her dimmed.
Carl leaned close, his face mere inches from hers, his lip pulling to the side as he stared into the depths of her green eyes. She was breath-taking, from her golden curls to her lush, pink lips. Her cheeks were flushed from dancing, adding a soft glow to her alabaster skin.
He licked his lips, drinking in every detail of the way she looked tonight. He would cherish this memory through the long, empty days of his life. He’d sold his happiness the day he’d climbed onto that luggage rack, but in doing so had insured his sister’s future.
“Carl?” Mel’s voice was a baby’s breath, her eyes full of concern for him as she studied the emotions flickering through his eyes. His hand tightened around her until their bodies touched.
The music stopped and the painful sound of applause shattered the night.
Carl slipped away into the crowd, leaving Melissa alone. She shivered as a cool breeze shook the trees and a shower of leaves descended on the revelers.
“Ms. Middleton,” a voice broke through her thoughts. “Ms. Middleton, are you cold?” Paul stood at her side, half-way out of his jacket already.
“Hm?” she questioned, her head still full of bright, blue eyes.
“Are you cold?” he offered again, slipping his jacket over her shoulders.
“Oh, thank you,” she finally responded, following him from the floor.
Minutes later she stood in the shadow of a large oak, its sprawling branches casting a deeper darkness than the night. She was still holding the hot cider Paul had given her, looking for any glimpse of Carl.
She could see Niamh surrounded by a gaggle of adolescent boys, all competing to be close to her.
“Are you warmer now?” Paul asked solicitously. “I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.”
“Yes, thank you.” She turned to give him her full attention.
“I believe this is the best party yet,” he said, his familiar smile back in place.
“It has been lovely, and everyone is having such a wonderful time.” She tried to put some feeling into her voice but it wasn’t there.
“I’m the luckiest man here tonight,” Paul spoke again, making her turn to look at him. “I’m in the company of the prettiest girl in Boston.”
Mel smiled demurely as he stepped closer to her, taking her hand. “Thank you for agreeing to be my guest.” He lifted her hand to his lips, drawing her closer, then leaned toward her.
If she hadn’t been so distracted, Mel would never have allowed herself to be drawn into the dark corner under the trees. But with her head full of Carl, and her heart heavy, she hadn’t noticed when he’d drawn her away from the protection of the crowd.
A stray band of light reflecting off of his blonde hair made her blink, and she leaned away just as he tried to kiss her.
As Melissa blinked, Paul’s hand was jerked from hers and a deep growl permeated the silent cathedral of the overhanging trees.
“You scoundrel,” Carl’s voice was thick and deep and she watched in horror as he pulled back his fist to strike.
“Carl, no!” she cried, grasping his arm in her hands and slowing its forward momentum. A soft squelching sound indicated the muted impact on Paul’s nose.
“Ouch!” the blonde man wailed, clasping his hands to his face, where a trickle of blood was already beginning to pool.
“You hit me!” he said, his voice high and nasally.
“You, sir, were taking undue advantage,” Carl snarled.
“Paul, go see to your nose,” Mel barked, her lips twisting in disgust. “I’ll deal with him.”
Carl furled his hands so hard his knuckles popped, causing Paul to jump and scurry off.
“Ca’hal McHain!” Melissa’s use of his proper name struck him deep in his soul. “You big oaf. What did you do that for?” Her eyes flashed in the darkness.
“He was taking advantage,” Carl’s voice was a harsh rasp.
“Men have tried to kiss me before,” she sniped. “I’ve managed to remain unscathed so far.”
“You would have let him kiss you?” Carl barked, “You’re not even engaged.” His anger rose, tangled with his jealousy, trying to strangle him.
“You great lummox,” Mel squeaked, then did something she had never done before - she hit him. She doubled up her hand and swung with all of her might. Her knuckles stung from the force of the impact with the solid wall of muscle in his arm.
Bright tears sprang to her eyes as each delicate knuckle cracked in protest. “You lumbering oaf,” she continued, her voice growing thick. “You’re only angry because it was Paul with me and not you.”
Carl stepped back, rubbing his biceps.
“If you’re so concerned about my reputation, perhaps you should have been the one under this tree with me!” As the tears began to fall, she lifted her skirts and raced away.
Carl stood rubbing his arm, bewildered at the woman’s behavior. He’d only stepped in to save her from that man’s unwanted attentions. A gentleman would never have lured her into this dark corner of the property.
His arm throbbed where she’d struck him, but what really ached was his heart. Turning, he determined to leave before he could do any more harm.
“Carl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The stately voice of Mrs. Middleton reached him as he strode toward the doors. “Be a dear and come dance with me.” Her smile was soft and in her eyes he could see the same excitement he’d seen earlier in Mel’s.
Tilting his head to one side, he let his irritation from a moment ago drain away as he offered her his arm.
“You’re such a dear,” Mrs. Middleton said as he led them into an easy waltz. “I’m afraid that I’ve quite worn poor Nathan out with all this dancing, but I do love a good party.” She smiled and Carl could see where her daughter’s beauty had come from.
“I do hope you’re having a good time tonight,” she spoke again as they moved smoothly around the floor.
“Yes ma’am,” Carl lied. “I’m very pleased that Niamh had the chance to attend. She seems to be having a wonderful time.”
“She’s got young men trailing behind her like love-sick pups,” the older woman chuckled. “She’s a wonderful young woman. I’m truly thankful she came into our lives.”
Carl’s steps faltered for a second, surprised by her words. Her smile simply brightened. “Didn’t you know?” she asked, patting his shoulder where her hand rested. “You and Niamh have brought more than just office help to our home. You’ve brought something special to our family. Carl, don’t discount your chance meeting with Reese. Everything happens for a reason.”
The music ended and they came to a stop on the far side of the floor. “Now take me to get some of that delicious-looking punch,” Mrs. Middleton said. “I’m parched.”
Mrs. Middleton monopolized Carl’s time for the remainder of the evening until she finally stated it was time to go home. “Go fetch Nathan for me, dear,” she said, patting Carl’s cheek like one would a small boy. “I think we’ve partied quiet enough.”
Mr. Middleton was sitting in an arm chair, listening to a stuffy gentleman drone on about cabbages. He looked like he would drift off any minute but smiled brightly when Carl leaned over him.
“Oh Carl, splendid,” the older man said. “What’s that you say, my lovely wife is looking for me.” He winked and stood. “I’m I afraid you’ll have to excuse me,” he said to his companion, taking Carl’s arm and heading toward the exit.
“Shall I fetch Niamh?” Carl asked as they met Mrs. Middleton in the wide marbled entry.
“No dear, she’ll accompany Mel. Let her enjoy her first real dance.” She smiled, noting how Carl looked back toward the festivities.
“Are you sure?” he asked, furrowing his brows.
“Mr. Miller will see they get home safe and sound.” Mrs. Middleton’s voice was confident. “Mel can look after herself, Mr. McHain,” she added, meeting his eyes with a clear green gaze, “You would do well to remember that.” Carl shivered under the piercing stare.
Chapter 7
Carl stood by the wagon, watching as his little sister’s rather large trunk was loaded along with the other items headed to the house on the coast.
He’d been surprised when Mr. Middleton told him he was expected to join them for their Thanksgiving retreat. Two years previous, still battered and bruised from what turned out to be his final boxing match, he’d accompanied the younger Middleton’s and their friend Mae to the house. He hadn’t been there since.
“Don’t worry, son,” Mr. Middle had said, “I have plenty to keep us busy while we’re there. Besides, the women will love showing your sister around.” He shook his head and chuckled. “It’s like having a whole new daughter to fuss over for the Mrs.”
It would be a treat for Niamh to get out of the city. She’d had little to celebrate in her life, so despite the awkwardness between himself and Melissa, he had packed his things and joined the party headed to the remote area on the coast.
An hour later he found himself driving Melissa and his sister along the all too-familiar route he’d taken two years before.
“Why didn’t we bring Charlie?” Niamh asked as the matched team of bays trotted out of the city.
“Char’s not really the best choice for a trip like this,” Carl answered the question patiently.
“He’ll enjoy the rest,” Melissa spoke up. “He takes me to the office nearly every day, so it will be a holiday for him while we have our own.”
“Is this the way you came the first time you met my brother?” Niamh peered around her at the unfamiliar landscape.
“We went past the wharf that time,” Mel answered, “but this was part of it.”
Carl stole a glance at her past his sister’s shoulder. Was she thinking of that day as well and regretting her decision to collect him like a stray dog?
Since the night of the party, Mel had been polite at best, cold at worst, and most painfully indifferent toward him. It was probably better this way for both of them but his rebellious heart didn’t seem to agree with his head.
Melissa Middleton would be better off with her own kind, someone like Paul Miller. Even the thought of the man’s name left a bitter taste on his tongue. She’d marry, settle down and they could both go on with their lives.
The thought stealing his soul, Carl snapped the reins, sending the team into a fast lope toward a lonely future.
***
“Son, are you listening?” Mr. Middleton’s voice carried across the room to where Carl stood, watching his sister and Melissa gathering seashells. Melissa had taken her hat off and the wind had pulled strands of corn silk hair loose from its pins.
He was mesmerized as she laughed when the wind dragged at her skirts, twirling her unruly locks this way and that. Her beautiful face was radiant in the blustery day.
“Hm?” he mumbled, then caught himself. “I’m sorry sir, were you speaking to me?”
“Yes, I was,” Mr. Middleton spoke from his desk. “We’ll be headed back to town tomorrow and I’d like to have these done before then,” he replied, indicating the invoices on his desk.
“Those women you’re admiring out there on the beach will have us booked solid from here to Christmas and I, for one, would like all business settled as soon as possible.”
Carl smiled at the man’s words, knowing he’d enjoyed their time on the Cape as much as everyone else. It had been good to spend more time with Melissa’s father. The man had a keen mind and an intricate sense of business.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, moving to the desk and resuming his work.
“You keep this up, young man, and I’ll have to offer you shares,” Mr. Middleton spoke over his shoulder.
Carl turned startled blue eyes on the other man. The man appeared to be serious.
Before he knew it, Carl was helping Melissa Middleton back into the buggy next to his sister and starting back toward town.
“This has been the best Thanksgiving ever,” Niamh enthused as he turned the team out of the drive and back toward the city. “Carl, can’t we please go past the place where you first met Mel? I’d love to see it.” His sister turned her bright eyes on him. “After all, if not for that day we’d never have the chance to all become friends.”
“That part of town is too rough,” Carl stated. He had no desire to dive back into the area he’d once called home.
“Surely you’re not afraid to simply drive past the wharf?” Melissa challenged.
“It’s nothing to do with fear,” he spoke plainly. “There’s nothing there worth seeing and it is my responsibility to get you ladies home as quickly as possible.”
“Reese took Mae and I there,” Mel’s words goaded.
“Please, Carl,” Niamh’s voice was soft.
“It’s silly,” Carl tried again. “What do you think you’re going to see?”
“I don’t know, I just want to mark it in my mind so that I’ll always remember how much our lives have changed and be thankful for our blessings.”
Carl’s will power crumbled. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but what could possibly happen if he simply drove them briskly by the docks.
The warehouse area was just as dilapidated and dirty as he’d remembered as he clicked to the horses, keeping them at a brisk trot. The buildings seemed more dark and menacing than they ever had previously, their empty window frames staring like sightless eyes.
Despite himself, he shivered at the dank smells and soft squishing sounds that rose as the horses moved along the street. From the corner of his eye he saw the la
mp post he’d leaned his aching body against that day, his head dripping from the sea water he’d doused it in, just before his whole life turned upside down.
He watched as Mel pointed out the exact spot to his sister as they moved toward it. Giving himself a shake, he slapped the reins to the horses’ rumps, urging them to carry him far away from this dark place, that dark time.
***
“Carl! Carl!” Niamh’s excited voice greeted him as he drove Charlie up to the main house. “Carl, Mel said we could go ice-skating if you’d take us. Please say yes!” she folded her hands in front of her as if praying.
Carl laughed at her enthusiasm. “You’re wish is my command,” he teased. “Let me change and then we’ll be off.” He chuckled as he drove the gangly roan horse to the cottage. It would be good to get out.
December had crept in, bringing snow and chilly temperatures. He’d been busy organizing special orders and shipments of items that were in high demand over the holidays and had been cooped up in the office far too much lately.
Climbing out of the cart he rolled his shoulders, easing some of the tension from long hours at a desk. “I’m afraid our day’s not done yet, old man,” he said, affectionately patting the horse’s dark head. “Time to entertain the ladies.”
In the past weeks he hadn’t seen Melissa as much. Her father had joined him at the office several times, but largely let him get on with the accounts and management of the office. He thought that the time apart had helped him get over the girl with the golden hair and was looking forward to an outing with her once more.
“Perhaps we can be friends again,” he speculated as he climbed back into the cart and turned Char toward the house.
***
Niamh chattered excitedly the whole way to the park. She had never had the chance to go ice skating before and with borrowed skates securely laced, she wobbled about on the ice like a marionette whose strings had be cut.
Carl laughed as he watched his sister determinedly fight her wobbling legs.
“Would you do any better?” Melissa asked, stepping up beside him and leaning on the fence that separated them from the ice.