A Life Worth Living (6 page)

six

Dora reclined on an upholstered sofa on the eighth floor of the apartment building watching the activities in Central Park through a large window. Although physically she was in New York, her mind was centered on the small town of Fairfield and the textile mill she owned there, which she left two months ago. Today she’d received the deed that had transferred the textile mill to her.

True to his nature, her father had attached a “string” to the gift. If she didn’t keep the property for ten years, ownership of the mill would revert to him. If she man-aged the property for ten years, it would belong to her. Regardless of whose name was on the deed, Dora knew her father would always intend to tell her how to manage the mill. If that was his plan, he was going to be in for a rude awakening. As soon as they affixed their signatures to the transfer of ownership, she was going to operate the mill as she wanted to. She had a feeling that he would soon regret the business transaction because she’d insisted on a clause in the deed giving her complete control of management for three years.

Dora loved her father—after all, he was the only family she had, except for some cousins—but she would not let him dominate her life any longer. When she was younger, they’d traveled together to far-flung nations of the world and had enjoyed wonderful companionship. It was only when she turned twenty-one, and by law was old enough to manage her own affairs, that he became dictatorial. Several times she’d been tempted to tell her father that she didn’t want his money—that she valued her independence more than riches. She had inherited a sizable amount of money from her mother’s family, over which he had no control, so even if her father disinherited her, she wouldn’t be destitute. He hadn’t been pleased when she refused to let him invest that money for her, and if she angered him too much, she wouldn’t put it past him to disinherit her and leave his estate to a nephew, Blake Porter, a man Dora didn’t like. She didn’t need his wealth to survive, but she surely didn’t want Blake to have it.

Since she’d left North Carolina, she hadn’t heard any-thing from Allen, which both distressed and annoyed her. He was constantly in her thoughts during the day, and she dreamed about him almost every night. The dreams were hazy, and most of the time when she awakened, she couldn’t remember the content of them. Was she in love with Allen Bolden? Dora had experienced minor love affairs since she was in her teens. Most of her admirers had been boys of her own age, but at one time, she’d imagined herself in love with their thirty-year-old butler.

To fancy herself in love with Allen was almost as far-fetched as her puppy love for the butler. They had nothing in common. Even if he loved her, she couldn’t see any future for them. She couldn’t imagine herself living in the mountains of North Carolina the rest of her life, and she knew that Allen’s roots were planted too deeply in that area for him to live elsewhere. Certainly not in New York City!

Since she’d been home, her father had been hinting that it was time for her to get married, and he already had a prospective man in mind—a widower fifteen years older than she. Lester Holdredge was rich, of course, for her father wouldn’t have considered a poor man, being the owner of a chain of hotels throughout the state, as well as other real estate. She had nothing against Lester. He was an honorable man who’d make anyone a good husband—anyone except her.

She ignored her father’s overtures, wondering more than once if she would find happiness anywhere except with Allen. She’d considered telling her father that she didn’t want his money, but there was a larger barrier between Allen and her than finances.

Dora knew he would never consider her for his wife when she didn’t share his Christian faith. She remembered a comment he’d made about a couple who worked at the mill. The wife attended the same church Allen did, but the man spent most of his weekends, as well as his salary, in a local bar. While her mother-in-law supervised their children, the woman worked at the mill to feed her family. Allen had remarked that she should never have married the man in the first place because she knew his questionable habits. He’d quoted a verse to the effect that believers should not be unequally yoked with nonbelievers.

If Allen loved her, and she suspected that he did, he wouldn’t ask her to marry him, not only because of the difference in their family background and wealth, but also because she didn’t share his Christian faith. Rather than criticizing him for being stubborn, she was actually proud of him because he placed his convictions above all else.

After they’d returned to New York, she’d borrowed Maude’s Bible. She didn’t understand much of what she read, but with the woman’s help, she’d found the verse that Allen had quoted. “ ‘Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers.’ ”

When she’d asked Maude what that verse meant, the maid favored her with a surprised facial expression before answering, “I’m not a Bible scholar, miss, but I believe it means that people ought to marry somebody who has the same religion they have. My folks were both Methodists, and they got along fine. I’m not suggesting that other religions are wrong, mind you, but it works better for man and wife to believe the same.”

“But what if one partner has no religion at all, and the other one is a committed Christian? Would they have a good marriage?”

“Those marriages sometimes turn out very well, but many dedicated believers won’t marry an unbeliever.”

Dora asked no more questions, but she’d been dis-gruntled the rest of the day. Why was she fretting over the situation anyway? There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Allen, and she knew him well enough to wonder if there ever would be. Despite her feelings for him, she knew their backgrounds were too different for any future together. The thought made her irritable most of the time, and she had no interest in seeing anyone.

For instance, Lester Holdredge had been stopping by for visits. Lester and his wife, Matilda, had been friends of the family for several years, and Lester had been foot-loose since Matilda had died the previous year. He was a retired schoolteacher, and Dora had encouraged him to do some substitute work just to pass the time, but he was still lonely. She felt sorry for the man, and since he lived in the same apartment building, he stopped by to see her almost every day. He had never proposed to her
,
but he had given several indications that he would be interested in marrying again, should the opportunity arise.

He had stopped by this morning for an unannounced visit, and he had been boring Dora for an hour as he discussed all of his achievements. She knew he wasn’t exaggerating, but she’d heard all of it before. So if Lester thought she was impressed by his achievements and was about ready to propose, he was in for a rude awakening. While he talked, in her thoughts she compared him to Allen, knowing that Lester didn’t have a chance for a positive answer to a proposal if he ever got up his nerve to ask her.

❧

Allen had never trusted Ted Morgan, who’d been hired a few months before the sale of the mill and retained by Mr. Porter when Allen refused to become the new manager, although he didn’t have a reason for his distrust. As far as Allen could tell, the man had performed his work adequately until the news arrived that ownership of the mill had passed to Dora. Morgan sent word to Allen that he had some carpentry work for him to do at the mill. Allen completed building a barn for his neighbor before he went to the textile mill to see what Morgan wanted.

He was curious and somewhat surprised when Morgan explained that he wanted Allen to build an office for him across the street from the mill. The manager had even drawn a sketch of how he wanted the building completed. To follow Morgan’s plans would entail quite
a sum of money, so after the man explained what he
wanted done, Allen commented, “I assume that you’ve discussed this project with the owner and that she approves of the construction.”

Morgan frowned. “I’m the manager of this mill. I make the decisions of what needs to be done.”

With a shrug, Allen said, “You have that right, but I’m not building anything unless the owner tells me to.”

“Then I’ll get another carpenter,” Morgan said angrily.

“Suits me,” Allen said and walked out the door, thinking that the absentee owner had better put in an appearance, or Morgan would steal her blind.

Allen was a firm believer in not involving himself in other people’s affairs. He’d made it plain to Dora that he wouldn’t manage the business for her, but he knew she considered him a friend. Was it right for him to do nothing while Ted Morgan mishandled the textile mill’s funds and stole her inheritance? Dora had asked him to notify her if anything went wrong, but he hadn’t promised he would. Still, should he stand aside and watch the downfall of an industry that was the lifeline of Fairfield? He had not only Dora’s interest at heart, but also concern for his friends and neighbors who would lose their livelihoods if the mill closed. He spent one whole evening writing a letter trying to explain to Dora what would probably happen to the mill if Morgan continued to manage it. He tore up several copies of the letter before he threw his pen aside. He wasn’t any good at putting his thoughts on paper.

Since Dora had told him to contact her if she needed to return to Fairfield, he knew she should know what was going on. Without attempting to understand his decision, a few days later, leaving Timothy to look after the farm, Allen went into Asheville and bought new clothes and caught the local train to Richmond with New York City as his ultimate destination. Three days later when he arrived at Grand Central Station in New York, he sat on one of the benches in the station and gave serious consideration to his reason for coming. He was half tempted to catch a train back to North Carolina without letting Dora know he’d come to the city. Although she was friendly enough in Fairfield, she might be ashamed to have him show up at her New York apartment. Even with his new clothes—perhaps because of them—he still looked like a country hick, and he figured he’d be an embarrassment to her.

He bought a meal in one of the station’s restaurants, amazed at the cost and wondering if his money would last until he returned to Fairfield. Fortunately, he’d bought a round-trip ticket. At a newspaper stand he inquired about the distance to Dora’s apartment, gratified to learn that it was in walking distance.

When he reached the apartment building, he checked his suitcase with the doorman and took the elevator to the eighth floor. He stood outside her door for a few minutes before he had the courage to knock. For all he knew, she might be on a tour of Europe or traveling in the United States, and he would have made the trip for nothing. He heard footsteps approaching and didn’t realize he was holding his breath until a woman he’d never seen opened the door. At first he thought he must have the wrong apartment, but noting that the woman wore a navy blue uniform, he assumed she was a servant.

“I’m looking for Dora Porter. Do I have the right apartment?”

The maid looked him over from head to toe before she said, “Do you have a calling card?”

Realizing more than ever that he was a fish out of water, Allen shook his head. He didn’t even know what a calling card was.

“Just a moment, please.”

The woman didn’t invite him in and started to close the door when he heard soft footsteps approaching and Dora’s voice saying, “Who is it?”

She reached the door, and for a moment a stunned expression covered her face before she gave a tiny squeal, pushed past the maid, and threw her arms around him.

“Oh Allen,” she said. “I’ve missed seeing you.”

Momentarily speechless, Allen stood like a man turned to stone before his emotions surfaced and he drew her into a tight embrace.

“I almost turned back before I rang the bell,” he mur-mured, “not knowing whether you’d want to see me, but it can’t get much better than this. I believe you’re happy to see me, so that’s worth the long trip up here.”

Allen glanced at the maid and almost laughed at her scandalized expression. She shrugged her shoulders and walked away.

“Oh Allen,” Dora murmured. “I am happy to see you. Come on in. I’m not conceited enough to believe that you came all the way to New York just to see me, so I suppose there’s trouble at the mill. Just let me get used to the fact that you’re really here before you unload any bad news.”

He knew now that he had missed her and
had
come to New York primarily to see Dora, although he couldn’t admit it to her. He’d not wanted to love Dora, but there wasn’t any doubt in his mind now that he did love her and that he’d made the long trip to see her more than to warn her about problems at the mill. He could have sent that warning by letter. Why was he so foolish to love a woman who was as far out of his reach as the sun and the moon? Well, he was here now, so he might as well enjoy a taste of paradise for a few days.

❧

With her arm around his waist, Dora led Allen into the living room, where Lester Holdredge was still sitting. She’d forgotten all about the man, and she wondered how she could explain his presence to Allen and vice versa. From where he sat, Lester could have seen her embrace Allen.

She felt her face flushing and, fearful that she had a guilty look, she took Allen’s hand and drew him into the room. “Let me introduce you to Lester Holdredge, a friend of the family. Lester, this is my friend, Allen Bolden, who is looking after the affairs of the family’s textile mill in North Carolina.”

“I can come back later,” Allen said.