A Path Toward Love (7 page)

She smiled ruefully. “Yes, but you heard him. A whole month of doing exactly as my mother asks?” She shook her head. “That's bound to only dissolve into more of our legendary arguments, even if I'm bound and determined to see through my part of the bargain.”

His mouth slanted in a grin. “I remember those.”

“I'm sure you do. Mama was mortified I didn't keep our disagreements private. But you and your aunt and uncle were always practically family.”

“Your mother might insist you attend a few dances and dinner parties, but is that really so terrible? Think of all the benefits a summer at Birchwood would bring. There's swimming and boating, and tennis and—”

Katherine lifted her palm. “You're right, of course. But I'm afraid I'd feel idle and restless.”

“I understand. I thrive on work too.”

“Still, I'm seriously considering Papa's offer.”

Andrew nodded as they dropped onto a stone bench. “Did you help with the business while Charles was alive?”

“No, not really. He didn't want me to have anything to do with the company. And actually, he wasn't very interested either. He was gone a lot. Most of the time, in fact.”

“On business?”

She shrugged. “Charles never said where he was going or what he was doing. I assume he went off to find more markets for our fruit, but he never explained. After the first few years we practically led separate lives.”

“I'm sorry.” His heart clutched. Ever since the surprising elopement, he'd worried Charles would eventually desert Katherine, at least emotionally. Charles never stuck with anything for long in college either. Always discontent, he quickly tired of his studies and his friends and moved on to new interests. But how shameful to leave Katherine nearly alone in the countryside of rural Florida.

He glanced toward the groves. The limbs hung so heavy with tiny oranges they reminded him of Chinese lanterns. Even though he'd never been involved with agriculture, he was fascinated with the neatly rowed trees and new fruit. He understood why Katherine loved this place. Even if it was ungodly hot and humid, it was a blessing to be so far removed from the hustle and bustle of New York. At least for a time.

“What kept you occupied while Charles was gone—on business?” Andrew suspected something besides business had lured Charles away from Buena Vista and his wife.

Katherine winced at the way he said
on business
, and Andrew regretted not taking more care with his tone.

“At first I decorated the house and retrimmed my hats. Then I visited neighbors, though we only have a few. I ordered books from New York. I read several classics during that time. Eventually, out of sheer desperation, I developed an interest in growing and selling our citrus fruit. Learning about the business from my manager, Mr. Herne, gave me a real sense of accomplishment. And it helped to prepare me for taking over after Charles's death.” She hesitated and looked away before she continued in a softer voice. “I was so busy my loneliness faded away. Or maybe I grew too numb to care.”

Andrew grimaced at the pain she'd endured. Katherine looked so vulnerable with her sad eyes and quivering lower lip. He wanted to pull her close and erase all the sorrow that came from being married to Charles. But he knew better than to act on his impulse. Katherine had only let down her guard for a moment.

“You must have been unhappy. Why didn't you go home to your family?” he asked gently.

She looked away. “Because I couldn't bear Mama gloating about how headstrong I was to marry Charles. She'd never let me forget it. And worst of all, she'd take charge of me as if I were a child again. I'd rather stay here than have that. At least I have some freedom in Florida.” She met his gaze. “This is why it's so difficult to accept Papa's proposal.”

He'd never realized how deeply she resented her mother's intrusion into her life. “I understand, but you have all the headaches of running a company. Surely that must weigh heavily on you.”

“Sometimes. All right, all the time.” She laughed without mirth. “Right now I'm sorely tempted to forget all about orange and grapefruit groves and go straight home with you and Papa, regardless of what I face with Mama. I'm tired, so tired . . .”

His heart thudding, Andrew tried to keep his voice calm. “Then why don't you?” He shouldn't care so much, but God help him, he did.

“Andrew, I failed at my marriage. If I also fall short in business, then I'll be a complete failure at everything I've ever tried to do. I'm not willing to accept defeat. Somehow, with the Lord's guidance, I'll find a solution.” She sighed. “But right now, I can't imagine what it would be.”

“Perhaps the Lord's solution is for you to follow your father's advice. A month isn't too long to be away from your business. Even an important railroad man like your father takes part of the summer off.”

“Yes, but Papa has staff to carry on during his absence. I'm afraid I don't.”

If he weren't Mr. Wainwright's employee, he'd wrap his arm around her shoulders and show his affection and support. He so admired her pluck. But if Mr. Wainwright caught him touching his daughter, he'd fire him before he had a chance to explain. Katherine's parents expected their daughter to marry well— someone like his cousin, Randy Clarke. The bitter taste of pure jealousy filled his mouth; he'd have to conquer that before it conquered him.

He owed so much to the Clarkes. He'd be forever grateful to his mother's sister, Aunt Georgia Clarke, who'd taken him in after his parents died and brought him up with Randy, treated him kindly, and paid for his education at Columbia. She and her husband, Clarence, had a fortune nearly as immense as the Wainwrights', while Andrew's father had earned only a modest salary as an attorney and later as a judge. Andrew wouldn't have fared well without his aunt and uncle. With no other relatives, he could've ended up in an orphanage. But despite the Clarkes' generosity and fondness for him, Aunt Georgia would never allow him to interfere with her marriage plans for her only son. Andrew didn't blame her. Katherine was a fine woman. A little battered and bruised, but fine to the core.

He stared at her, as inexplicably drawn to her now as he had been eight years prior. She looked lost and forlorn. Against his better judgment, Andrew eased his fingers around Katherine's hand. Immediately, feelings he'd suppressed for so long shot through his body.

Shifting her gaze toward him, Katherine smiled and squeezed his hand. Hers felt soft and silky, and he relished the touch of her warm flesh curved against his own.

“Katherine, if you really want to go home, then pray about it. The Lord will show you a way. I'll help you too.”

“Thank you, Andrew. You've always been my white knight, and I don't think I've ever thanked you for your kindness. You tried so hard to lead me away from Charles, but I wouldn't listen.”

He just wished he'd done more to prevent her marriage. But maybe now he could support her. He resisted the urge to tip her head back and kiss her with all the love he'd stored up over the years. It took great willpower to steady his racing heart and pretend to care for her only as an old friend.

“Sometimes I'm unsure about my future. Usually I forge ahead convinced I know what's best, but every once in a while I feel lost and alone.”

Katherine sounded so uncertain that he longed to reassure her. “The Lord will show you the road He wants you to take, but sometimes it's not the way you may want to go.”

When she tightened her lips and lowered her gaze, he knew she still struggled with her willfulness. It was one thing to rail against her mother, but quite another to battle with the Lord. She'd face a long and difficult walk if this was the path the Lord had laid out for her, and if Andrew could do one thing, it'd be to stay beside her every step of the way.

Chapter Four

A
ndrew waited for the best time to speak to Mr. Wainwright privately, but he didn't find him alone or in the right mood until after breakfast the next morning. The temperature and humidity hadn't yet risen to unbearable, but they still headed for the library, the coolest room in Buena Vista. A giant oak just outside the window blocked the sunshine from streaming into the room and heating it to oven temperature.

They were both reading over business contracts when Andrew laid his papers down. “I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir, but I'd like to speak to you about Katherine.”

Apparently surprised, his employer cocked a bushy gray eyebrow. “Of course.”

Andrew hesitated, unsure where to begin. He should've planned exactly what to say before he'd disturbed his boss. “Katherine told me last evening she still hasn't decided about whether or not she can come to Camp Birchwood.”

“I hope we persuade her soon, because I can't tolerate much more of this infernal heat.” Mr. Wainwright mopped his brow, as if to emphasize his point.

Andrew nodded with sympathy. “She obviously needs the loan, but with Mr. Herne gone, she feels she ought to stay here to run the groves herself. She's in a real quandary.”

Mr. Wainwright grunted. “She's out of options, but that's a good thing, Andrew. Does she ever look in the mirror? She's a rack of bones, the poor girl. Whatever happened to my beautiful, high-spirited daughter who took New York by storm? This business is crushing her.”

“I think she's aware of the toll it's taking,” Andrew said. “It's partly why coming home for a visit entices her.”

“Listen, I realize she's disappointed that I won't hand her the money without strings. A father wants to give his daughter everything she needs and wants. But in this case, I can't.” He narrowed his eyes. “What she wants isn't good for her. These misguided efforts will ruin her health and eat up her years. Her mother and I won't allow it.”

“There is the fact that managing the groves makes her so happy,” Andrew said lightly. “And she is of age to make her own decisions . . .”

“You know as well as I that Katherine has often made impulsive and ill-conceived decisions. Staying here and struggling against all the odds is just another mistake in a long series. Can you deny it?”

Andrew couldn't. “That remains to be seen, doesn't it? Unfortunately, it will take years to find out. But . . .” Andrew pretended to pick lint from his trousers and then dared to meet his boss's gaze. “I've found that Katherine's matured, sir.”

Mr. Wainwright let out a huff. “Perhaps. We'll be better able to assess that when we all return to New York.”

“You won't reconsider, then? Helping her out financially, but allowing her to remain here?” Andrew couldn't believe he had the audacity to ask his boss such a personal question. Yet he had to support his friend.

Mr. Wainwright shook his head and gave him a hard stare. “Absolutely not.”

Andrew's mouth went dry as hay. An apology caught in the back of his constricted throat, and he couldn't push out the words. So he had to stick by them. He might have jeopardized his position at the Trans American Railroad, but at least he'd stood up for Katherine.

Mr. Wainwright rose and jammed his book back onto the shelf. “I understand your concern for my daughter, but you must understand her mother has plans for her future. My wife wants Katherine to marry—and marry well this time. No more running off with someone unsuitable. Who knows who she might run across here?” He shook his head at the thought. “All we want is for her to have a brilliant marriage with a society gentleman who'll make her happy.”

“But if she doesn't want that, sir? What then?” Andrew asked.

Mr. Wainwright glowered. “Her mother will convince her we have her best interests at heart and she must listen to us.”

For once in her life,
Andrew finished silently.