A Path Toward Love (25 page)

“I don't want a fall engagement. And clearly, Kat is intent upon returning to Florida.” He gave him a level stare. “I wished to visit the Breakers. I hold no desire to
live
in such godforsaken country.”

Andrew shrugged. “So tell them. What's so difficult about that?” He shouldn't needle his cousin; he completely understood Randy's dilemma. But at the age of twenty-eight, Randy should have the gumption to disagree with his mother and take charge of his own future. Choosing a mate was one of the most important decisions in life, and to leave it to one's parent seemed not only ridiculous but also cowardly.

“It pains me to admit this, especially to you, Andrew, but I'm leery of defying my mother. I know I sound like a mama's boy— and maybe I am. The truth is, I'm just not anxious to settle down, even with a girl as grand as Kat. I have my entire life to marry. Fall is too soon. And so is next spring or next summer.”

“So when would you want to settle down?” He had to choke out the words. Envy slithered through him and coiled around his ribs like a python. Shame over his jealousy soon followed.

Randy shrugged. “Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'll be ready for marriage sometime in five or six years. It's too soon to contemplate a date. She's just returned home, and to tell you the truth, we hardly know each other anymore. Any connection we seem to have is based on childhood memories. And she has this mad idea about returning to Florida to see to the harvest . . .” He threw out his hands. “Why can't she relinquish such tasks to a man? Why must she do it herself?”

Andrew leaned back against the wall of the boathouse. “So . . . you didn't bring up your mother's desire for an autumn announcement?”

Randy removed his boater and ran his fingers through his straight black hair parted in the middle. “I didn't bring up marriage specifically. All right—I hemmed and hawed. But I got the distinct impression Katherine is no more interested in marriage than I am, at least not right now. When I hinted at my intentions she sounded lukewarm. Cold, actually. I'm sure we'll settle down eventually and live happily ever after and all that. It's inevitable, really. And if I
must
marry, I certainly don't want to lose her.”

Euphoria swelled inside Andrew's chest until he thought he might burst with renewed hope. But at his cousin's expense? That didn't seem right. And in reality, there was still little hope for Katherine and himself, even without Randy in the picture. “Then I don't see any problem,” he managed. “Simply tell your mothers you two aren't ready.”

Randy grunted. “They're insistent. They won't tolerate any defiance from either one of us.”

“Stand up to them and assert yourself. You're a grown man. Your mother can't
make
you do anything.”

Randy winced. “You know how formidable she and Mrs. Wainwright can be.” Randy heaved a long, desolate sigh, and his entire face drooped like a pair of baggy trousers. “The best solution is to wait until Katherine and I are both enthusiastic. Perhaps through the summer love will blossom, and we can agree to a marriage . . . with a
long
engagement.”

“Possibly. But is there something else bothering you?” Andrew asked. Why did Randy still look so glum?

Randy shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “If we don't marry, Mother insists I go to work for Father. They'll exile me to the bowels of the Clarke Building. I'll be forced to learn the banking business from the ground up, literally. You know I have no head for finance and no interest either.”

Andrew took a deep breath, understanding at last. So that was what drove him. They'd caught him in their web, but he could easily pull free with a small amount of effort. “Come now, Randy, a little work won't kill you. Try it. You might find you like it. I do.”

Randy glowered. “You're not very helpful, you know. As for work, I'm not temperamentally suited for long, boring hours slaving over facts and figures.”

“You mean you're suited for spending money, not making it.” Andrew cocked a brow.

Randy brightened. “Exactly. But stop making light of this. I might be lazy, but I'm not fool enough to think I could ever adapt to an office routine.”

Andrew knew he should stop chiding Randy and express more empathy, but he couldn't condone Randy's sheer indolence. “All right. Then what are you suited for? Let's consider it together. It has to be productive and satisfy your parents.”

Randy's shrugged and even his mustache seemed to droop. “Nothing, really. Perhaps I could learn to sculpt or make clay pots. Who knows, I might sell a few. Or give them to friends as Christmas gifts. You'd like one, wouldn't you?”

“I would. But you know your parents will consider that a hobby, not a job.” He thought of Katherine and her father's reaction to the idea of her selling hats.

Randy sighed and kicked the toe of his shoe into the pier. “The truth is I'm not suited for much of anything.”

“But the beauty of being rich is you don't have to be. Go to work for a while, then convince your parents you're supposed to resume this life again and become a charming decoration.”

“For goodness' sake, Andrew, stop mocking me. I'm in a bind. Do you have any
worthwhile
suggestions?”

Andrew shook his head, enjoying this far more than he should. “Truly, Randy. Call their bluff. Go and try working for a while. It will delay your mother's demands and give you more opportunity to get to know Katherine . . . and see if you truly belong together.”
Or discover she's better suited to me
.

Randy drew out a melodramatic groan. “Maybe I should just bear down and convince Kat to marry me sooner rather than later.”

Andrew's legs wobbled. “You mean, simply give in?” His faint hope for his own relationship with Katherine sank.

“What other choice do I have?”

“Work! Go to work!” Andrew said, barely able to keep from shouting.

Randy looked at him with chagrin and shook his head. “No, Andrew. I just can't see it. Father would be dreadfully disappointed with me if I tried and failed. I would fail, you know. And I've already experienced enough of
that
to last a lifetime.”

His words brought Andrew up short. What had brought Randy to such a low place? Surely this wasn't God's plan for him. Could it be that Katherine could help Randy find his way? Was she truly meant to be Randy's wife, his helpmate? He put his hands on his head as if he could drive away the sudden pounding. Nothing, nothing seemed right, no matter which direction he turned.

Taking a deep breath, Randy cast a pleading gaze at Andrew. “Do you think you could convince my mother to give up her scheme?”

Andrew grunted. “You know as well as I do that your mother and Mrs. Wainwright won't be crossed. I'm afraid nothing will change their minds. So reconsider working at the bank. That would be far preferable to marrying before you're ready. Really, Randy, think of Katherine, if not yourself. Her marriage to Charles . . .” He shook his head. “She deserves love and loyalty if she marries again.”

Randy frowned at him. “Of course I'd treat her well. And she'd have anything she desired!” His frown turned into a petulant sulk. “One thing I know for certain. I
will not
work for my father. That's a life sentence of dreariness.” He pulled at the corners of his mustache. “I suppose I'll have to court her. No doubt her mother can persuade her to accept the idea, just as my mother did me. Sometimes, mothers truly do know best.”

Randy hesitated before tilting his head and narrowing one eye. “Would you do me a favor, cousin?”

“Anything,” Andrew said, before he really thought it through.

“Talk to Kat. See if she's interested in me, either now or in the future. See if this whole ‘heading back to Florida' bit is merely a bluff.”

Andrew considered him and then gave him a slow nod. “I'll do it,” he said.

Because he'd like to know the answer to that question too.

Chapter Fifteen

F
rom under the leafy sugar maple, Katherine watched Andrew and Randy huddle on the dock like a pair of conspirators. What were they cooking up? Not a plot involving her, she hoped. She'd ask Andrew later if she caught him alone. Her eyes settled on him, alternately smiling and frowning at his cousin. Andrew had grown to be so handsome . . .

She jerked her gaze back to Randy. Her earlier conversation with him had left her rattled. It took all her strength to keep from rushing down to the lake to insist he turn his romantic thoughts to someone else who'd truly make him happy. Someone who'd love and cherish him and appreciate his fortune and happily join him in his lackadaisical ways.

He couldn't truly be in love with her, could he? He didn't look at her with nearly the same intensity—and affection—that Andrew did.

The thought brought her up short.
Remember the groves, Katherine,
she told herself. But the more she repeated the phrase, the more her eyes wandered back to Andrew.

That evening at dinner Mama placed her next to Randy and consigned Andrew to the far end of the table, as usual. Randy chatted politely, but an unfamiliar awkwardness lay between them. To make matters worse, her mother listened to every word they said.

After the interminable dinner finally ended, the ladies adjourned to the lounge while the gentlemen remained in the dining hall for cigars and brandy. Later, at Mama's direction, Katherine played a few hands of bridge and then table tennis with a plump and pedantic young man, the son of one of her mother's old friends. She beat him handily in three games and then quit before humiliating him any further.

“I'm terribly tired. I believe I'll retire to my cabin and read for a while.” Under Mama's disapproving eye, Katherine hurried away.

Although nightfall had blackened the sky, she dropped onto a wicker chair outside of her cabin. Inside, Aunt Letty was already slumbering, snoring steadily. Outside, crickets hummed, fish flopped in the smooth lake, and a few birds drew out the last notes of their evening song. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders against the breeze stirring the maple leaves and lifting the branches of fir trees and pines.

A canoe with the silhouettes of two men cut through the dark waters toward camp. Only the moon and stars sprinkled the lake with pale light to guide the pair. They soon landed the boat and dragged it onto the beach. The murmur of voices rose above the hoot of an owl and the distant bark of Papa's springer spaniel. The men walked up the gentle rise of the lawn.

Of course. Andrew and Randy.

Andrew glanced in her direction, but she couldn't tell if he spotted her. Probably not, since her royal blue frock blended into the descending night. The pair soon passed and their voices faded away. But then a few minutes later, she heard footsteps creak the boards of the covered walkway. She glanced toward the sound as Andrew's tall, broad-shouldered form emerged from the dusk.

“I came to wish you a good evening.” He halted and then leaned back against the deck railing, his eyes riveted upon her as if he wanted to share something but didn't quite know how to begin.

“Good evening to you, Andrew. Come join me if you'd like.”

He dropped into the wicker chair just inches from her own. Grasping his hands in his lap, he leaned forward. She caught a whiff of his aftershave, just as fragrant as the balsam trees. “Randy says you two might be getting serious.”