Authors: Lorna Seilstad
If it were possible to float to her tent, Marguerite was certain she could. The taste of Trip’s lips still lingered on her own. He’d asked for one kiss for luck tomorrow, and she’d willingly provided it despite Lilly’s attempt to shoo him away.
Now, when Lilly suggested they get to bed early before the big day, she deferred, saying she just wanted to sit under the stars for a few minutes.
“More like get the stars out of your eyes,” her friend teased. “Just don’t expect me to stay up and wait for you.”
After assuring Lilly that she wouldn’t wake her, Marguerite walked to the sitting area in the center of the camp.
A lamp on the table illuminated her father. He held his head in his hands.
Heart thundering, she stopped short. “Daddy? What’s wrong? Has something happened to Mother or Mark?”
He glanced up, his eyes glistening with tears, his face pale and drawn. “Maggie dear, come sit down.”
Fearing her knees would give way, Marguerite grabbed for the back of the wicker chair before lowering herself onto its cushion.
Her father reached across the table and captured her hands. “Your mother is fine – for now.”
“Daddy, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
He released his hold and drew his hand through his hair. “I’ve made a horrible mistake, sweetheart.”
“I know about the gambling, Daddy, but I forgive you. God will forgive you too. Just ask Him.”
He held out his hands, palms up, and spread them wide. “It’s all gone. The money. The business. I’ve lost it all. We’re penniless. Not even enough to pay Trip Andrews back for bailing me out.”
Her mouth went dry and the words came out in a hoarse whisper. “Because I wouldn’t let Mark race?”
“No, that was merely to buy me more time.” He leaned back in the chair.
“There’s nothing left?” she squeaked. “You gambled it all away?”
“I had one more business deal, but . . .”
“But what?”
“It’s with Roger Gordon.”
“Oh.”
“He’ll be home soon.”
“I guess that’s good.” She unpinned her hat with trembling hands and set it on the table. “You can focus on your business with him. I’m certain he’ll give you a loan until the situation improves.”
Her father leaned forward, steepled his hands in front of him on the tabletop, and released a long sigh. “Marguerite, don’t be naive. He arranged this business deal in hopes that it would soften me toward giving him your hand in marriage.”
“You’d do that? Agree to me marrying him?” Her hand shot to her mouth and her stomach clenched.
His silence answered her.
She blinked. “And if I don’t accept his proposal?”
Still no answer.
“Daddy?”
“He will most likely withdraw his offer of partnership in the new business venture.”
“And we’ll have nothing,” she croaked. “Is there any other way?”
He laid a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Marguerite. I can’t think of anything else.”
Mind spinning, Marguerite looked into his eyes. What did she see in their tear-filled depths? Fear? Desperation?
She must have misunderstood him. Her father wouldn’t allow this. No. Not him. Not her hero. He loved her. He saved her from life’s injustices. He didn’t feed her to the monsters. Not him.
“Daddy?”
He stood, kissed the top of her head, and departed, leaving her alone in the darkness.
Oh, Lord, this can’t be happening
.
A shudder shook her frame, the pain splintering her heart. She felt so raw even tears didn’t come. How could she say yes to Roger? Not now. Especially not now.
My father can’t ask this of me. He’ll think of something.
He can’t ask me to make a sacrifice like this
.
But he had.
If she didn’t accept Roger’s proposal, what would happen to her family? To Mark? To Lilly? Could she watch them suffer because of her selfishness?
Lord, help. I can’t do this
.
Try as she might, Marguerite couldn’t force her feet to go faster even though it was the morning of the regatta. Tugging on the puffy sleeve of her tailored jacket, Mark dragged Marguerite toward the
Endeavor
, still docked behind the boat shop.
Marguerite’s feet felt tangled in a net. A net of lies. At least this time they belonged to her father and not her.
Now I know where I learned to lie so well
.
“Come on! We’re going to miss seeing him before they shove off!”
Plastering on her best smile, she let Mark haul her behind the building and onto the dock. Would Trip see through a fake veneer of excitement? She didn’t want to upset him before the big race. This day was too important to him.
Mark hailed the
Endeavor
’s skipper. Trip looked up from his preparations and beamed at Marguerite. He was dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of tan creased trousers, and his tousled sandy hair peeked out from beneath a flat straw hat. He hopped over the side of the boat and jogged to meet her.
“You look beautiful – and tired. I thought you’d have sweet dreams last night.” He flashed a smile with dimples so deep she ached to touch them.
“Ew.” Mark stuck out his tongue. “She ain’t beautiful. She’s just Marguerite.”
Marguerite frowned. “
Isn’t
beautiful.”
“See, she knows it too.”
Trip chuckled and laid a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Hey, sport, why don’t you go save your sister a spot to watch the race?”
After Mark trotted off, Trip turned back to Marguerite. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
“I guess I was simply too excited about the regatta.” She glanced around. The bright sky and gentle breeze didn’t mirror the storm in her heart. “The weather seems perfect.”
“Perfect for leaving those pretty boys and their fancy boat in our wake.” He pointed to one of the other crews, all wearing matching jackets, and chuckled.
“You really don’t like them, do you?”
“Let’s just say we have a history, and Dane likes to throw his past victories in my face.” Trip glanced at his crew readying the boat. “Listen, I’ve got to go, but I want to ask you something first. The Yacht Club is sponsoring a ball tonight to celebrate the regatta, and I would be honored if you’d allow me to escort you to it.”
Her heart lurched. One more night with him. Dancing in his arms. Laughing with him. Sharing dreams. Pure heaven or pure torture?
She should say no and end this once and for all. She really should. It wasn’t right to pretend they could have more. Still, she couldn’t make her mouth form the word, especially not today with the impending regatta. This was the most important day of Trip’s life, and she wanted to be there for him.
She forced a smile. “I’d love to go with you.”
“I’ll call for you at 7:00.” He kissed her cheek. “For luck.”
“For God’s blessing.” She pressed her handkerchief in his hand, then watched him trot back to the sailboat and hop lithely aboard. With a commanding voice filled with respect for his crew, he barked orders and they jumped to fulfill them.
Everyone loved Trip.
Do I love him?
Taking a step back, she pressed a hand to her wildly beating heart pounding a rhythm of truth.
Trip gathered his crew. They removed their hats and bowed their heads in prayer.
Her heart shattered. It wasn’t fair. Trip was everything Roger was not. Didn’t God want her with a man who loved Him?
He stood in the bow and waved to her. “Marguerite, meet me in the winner’s circle!”
She blew a kiss back to him and whispered, “God bless you, Phillip Sutton Andrews the Third.”
Enthusiasm buzzing amid his crew, Trip surveyed their work one final time as they prepared to float away from the docks. With hearty approval, he declared everything in order.
Then Trip saw him – his father, standing on the dock, critically assessing every detail. Trip hopped off the
Endeavor
and hurried over to meet him. “Here to wish us luck?”
“No.”
Trip’s heart sank.
“You don’t need luck. You have skill.”
Mouth dry, Trip swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thanks, Dad. I . . . uh . . . better go. The race will be starting soon.”
“Just remember to take your lead early, so you can keep away from all those idiots who don’t have a clue what they’re doing.”
Trip nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The
Endeavor
glided to the starting line at the sound of the five-minute warning gun. Glancing back at the shore, Trip shook his head. He’d never expected to hear those words from his father. Almost a compliment.
Trip surveyed the triangle-shaped course marked by flagged cork buoys. The wind – he guessed at fourteen to fifteen knots – was true, and they should make top speed.
“What do you think of our competition?” Harry stepped beside him.
“The
Antilles
always does pretty well, and the
Ranger
looked sharp yesterday.”
“Ahoy there,
Endeavor
!”
Trip lifted his gaze to see the captain of the
Viking
, Dane Henderson from Spirit Lake, waving. Trip nodded in greeting.
“You don’t really think you have a chance, do you, Andrews?” Dane tugged at the lapels of his striped jacket.
Trip shook his head. “Well, let’s just say I’ll see you at the finish line – coming up behind us.”
“The nerve of those pretty boys!” Harry readied the mainsail.
“Too bad there’s no photographers around. They make a good picture in their matching jackets.”
Harry laughed. “And too bad we’re going to trounce them.”
“Absolutely.” Trip spotted the racing official step onto the main dock. He raised a pistol in the air and fired the one-minute warning.
Adrenaline surged through Trip’s veins. He waved his navy skipper’s hat in the air, the gold cord flashing in the sunlight. “Places!”
The crew tightened the sails, and Trip turned the ship into the wind. When the starting gun sounded, the
Endeavor
took the lead, crossing the starting line well before the others.
This was going to be a good day.
A fantastic, marvelous, amazingly good day from start to finish.
“Look at her go!” Marguerite jumped up and down beside Mark. She leaned over the railing, trying to catch every moment of the race. With the rippling water, clear skies, and gusty breeze, she could almost picture herself aboard the
Endeavor
, flying through the water and feeling the spray on her face.
She gasped as the
Viking
neared. Oh, how Trip disliked that crew. Anyone other than Dane Henderson could beat him and he’d handle it fine. She could see Harry, Lloyd, Mel, and Max all leaning far out of the ship’s windward side to balance the heeling vessel.
The
Endeavor
neared the first buoy and made its turn. The
Viking
followed a length behind. She bit her knuckle, and Mark jumped up and down, cheering. Masterfully tacking their way along the second leg, the
Endeavor
’s crew maintained their lead. Finally they reached the second turn. Dane cut off the
Endeavor
so he could turn closer to the buoy. Ignoring safety concerns for both vessels, Dane forced Trip to make a wider turn.