Making Waves (34 page)

“My mother?” His chest puffed at the mention, and he tucked his hand in the gap between the shiny buttons on his vest. “She’s helping?”

Marguerite nodded. “And I think she’s very excited about the whole event. She has wonderful ideas.”

“I suppose, then, I will just have to make do with seeing you for lunch and dinner.”

Both? Last night, after the captain’s heart attack, she’d endured a mind-numbing evening discussing his business trip. How could she stand two dreary meals a day?

Lord, if I have to marry Roger, can You please give his
character a boost? I wonder if any doctors make a personality
tonic
.

“Roger.” Marguerite clasped her hands in front of her, hoping to show a patience she didn’t feel. “I will be meeting with the various women on the committees during lunch most days. Perhaps we should simply count on having dinner together.”

“Ladies? Are you certain that’s who you’ll be meeting?”

“Who else would there be?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

She shifted a stack of papers on her desk. “I need to get to work. If there’s nothing else, perhaps you should leave.”

He sat down across from her in a straight-backed chair. “I’m in no hurry. Why don’t you let me help?”

“Roger! Please, just go. You’re distracting me.”

Snickering, he stood up. “As I told you before, you do seem prone to being easily distracted.”

Something in his tone, bathed in a fake lightness, made her skin crawl. How could someone seem so bland one minute and so threatening the next?

After he left, she returned to her notes. But Roger’s visit had unnerved her, and she found it difficult to focus. What had he meant by his last statement?

She put the final star on her doodle of the constellation Orion.

“Working hard?”

She jumped. “Trip?”

“Miss Westing.” Voice cold, he turned the paper so he could see her work. “Which one is this?”

“Orion.”

His finger traced an imaginary line between the stars. “The most handsome of the earthborn and killed by the goddess of love.”

“Actually, I believe it was Artemis who killed him – the goddess of the hunt.”

“Oh, how could I have forgotten?”

Was this stab-Marguerite-to-death-slowly day? She sighed. “What can I do for you, Trip? I have work to do.”

“Correction. We have work to do.” He pulled his chair up to the desk. “I’m taking over for my dad.”

“I . . . I can handle this. You need to tend to his health.”

“You’d deny his dying request?”

“Trip, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize he – ”

Trip laughed. “No, he’s alive. In fact, Doc says he’s much better today, but he did make me promise to take his place working on this brouhaha.”

“It’s the Water Carnival, and if that’s his wish, I’ll gather my things.” She stood up and collected her papers. “I’m sure you don’t want me around.”

“I don’t, but he does. He says you’re part of the deal. I won’t say I’m happy about it, but I’ll do it for him. The last thing I want to do right now is upset him. This is business, not personal. Can we be civil to one another for a few weeks?”

She nodded.

“Good. Sit back down and show me what needs to be done.”

Summer at Lake Manawa was always balmy, even with the breeze off the water, but in the last few days, Trip had found that being in the same room with Marguerite raised the humid summer temperatures to an unbearable degree. Everywhere he turned in the small office, she was there. Did she have any idea what the brush of her shoulder or accidental touch of their hands did to him? Didn’t she feel the undercurrent that still surged between them?

And if her physical presence wasn’t enough, wherever she moved, she left a rose-scented path in her wake. His irritation grew each time his nerves tingled, and the fact that his empty stomach now growled at the late afternoon hour didn’t help.

He rubbed the crick in the back of his neck. “Are we about done?”

Marguerite waved a paper fan in front of her face. “Almost, but I still have a few things on my list.”

“Like?”

She held up a sheet of paper. “How did the work on the floating fort go yesterday?”

“Well, it sure isn’t floating yet.”

“That isn’t what I asked and you know it.”

He leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “It’s as hot as a piece of coal in a tinder box in here. Why don’t we go for a walk and you can take a look for yourself?”

“I’d better not.”

The light extinguished from her eyes, and he felt a twinge of concern. “Why?”

“It’s just best if Roger doesn’t see us together.”

An uneasy feeling took root that Trip couldn’t shake. His memory shot back to the dance when Roger Gordon had appeared less than gentlemanly. “He’s not giving you any trouble, is he?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Forcing a smile, she stood from the desk and began to gather her things. “Did you look at the time? If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late for my own birthday dinner.”

“It’s your birthday?”

She covered her lips with her hand. “I didn’t mean to let that slip.”

“Is Roger taking you to Louie’s?”

“No, I don’t think he even knows it’s a special day.”

“Your fiancé doesn’t know your birthday? Why not?”

She shrugged. “He never asked.”

If he hadn’t already loathed the man, he did now. What kind of suitor didn’t find out important things like that?

Trip studied Marguerite for a minute. Beneath the silk roses adorning her straw hat, a vulnerable, pale-faced woman stared back at him. Good. She should be miserable.

His heart pinched. He couldn’t think about her that way no matter how hard he tried. He rose to his feet and offered her a lopsided grin. “We could go get some ice cream in honor of the special occasion. I know how much you like it.”

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, and for a moment he saw a familiar twinkle in her cornflower blue eyes. Then she blinked and it was gone. She tucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Thank you, Trip. Truly. But I’d better go.”

Then, before he could stop himself, he brushed her creamy cheek with a kiss. “Happy birthday, Marguerite.”

Touching her cheek with her hand, Marguerite fought the powerful sadness building inside. With Camp Andromeda only a few yards away, she prayed she could make it to her tent before any tears fell from her misty eyes. Coming in the back way, she was sure to avoid her mother’s questions about her tardiness. Today of all days she should be allowed to be a tad sneaky.

Why did it have to be so hard? She was trying to do the right thing, and she was doing this for her family. Why had God put Trip back in her life to face every day? A tear escaped and she batted it away.
Happy birthday to me
.

She shook her head. She mustn’t dwell on the emptiness in her heart. Maybe if she thought of something besides how right Trip’s kiss had felt, she could silence the deafening sadness. But what?

Almond cake. Alice always made it for her birthday, and it was her favorite as well as her father’s. Another thing the two of them shared.

Presents? Since her father had gambled the family’s money away, she didn’t expect any of those.

A special evening? Not if Roger was involved.

She neared her parents’ tent and heard voices coming from within. Immediately she recognized Roger’s deep intonation.

“I don’t like her working on that Water Carnival, and I want to make something clear to you, Edward.” Roger’s voice held a hint of a threat. “If Marguerite changes her mind about our engagement, then the business deal is off. It’s your responsibility to see that this marriage occurs.”

Now was her father’s chance. He could end this whole charade. He could set her free.

Edward cleared his throat. “She won’t change her mind. I’ll make sure of that.”

Stomach wadding into a ball, Marguerite fought the lump in her throat.
I won’t scream. I won’t cry
.

She had to escape. Scurrying back down the path, she ran in the direction of the gambling den – the place that had ruined everything, poisoned her father, corrupted his heart, and made him a slave to cards. He’d sell anything for the money now. Even her.

Sinking onto a log, she shook with sobs. All those times he’d been her hero . . . When awful Laura Thompson had locked her in the icehouse, he’d come to the rescue. After her mother had told her that science was for men, her father gave her books about the stars and told her she should dream big. He’d even saved Lilly’s position when her mother wanted to send her away.

Memories flooded her thoughts, one after another.
Things
aren’t always what they seem to be
. Roger’s words haunted her. Had Roger known the truth about her father all along?

“Miss Marguerite.” Alice lowered her ample body onto the log beside her. “I thought I saw you running off.” She draped a heavy arm around Marguerite’s shaking shoulders, pulled her against her, and held her while she sobbed.

After a minute, Marguerite raised her head, and Alice dried her tears with the hem of her apron.

“D-d-did you hear Daddy and Roger?”

“Hard not to.”

“Daddy had his chance. All he had to do was tell Roger no. He could have saved me.”

Alice passed her a hanky from the pocket of her apron. “He isn’t your savior, child.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like my heavenly Father is any more reliable in getting me out of this than my earthly father has been.” She sniffled and blew into the handkerchief.

Alice sighed. “Miss Marguerite, I love you like my own, but you are one stubborn girl. You know, you could’ve gotten yourself out of this a long time ago. You just didn’t want to tell Mr. Gordon the truth.”

“So you think this is my fault because I didn’t turn Roger down in the beginning?” She felt another stab of betrayal, and she couldn’t keep the edge from creeping into her tone. “I didn’t ask to be forced to marry Roger Gordon to save our family.”

“Now, don’t get yourself in a dither. Hear me out. When you said yes to Mr. Gordon’s proposal, it was because you felt trapped. You were doing what you thought you had to do. But deep down, you didn’t intend to go through with it. In a way, I think you’ve been countin’ on your daddy coming to your rescue all along.” The wind blew and a shadow drifted across Alice’s face.

“No, I haven’t,” Marguerite snapped. Alice didn’t flinch. After a few moments, Marguerite released a long breath. “I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I just thought he’d find another way. I didn’t think he’d sell me.” A pain the size of a comet shot through her heart, and fresh tears moistened her lashes. “I thought he loved me more than he did his money.”

Alice took her hand and squeezed it. “Child, I think he does. He just doesn’t remember that right now. Satan’s got a foothold.”

“And I still have to go through with this . . . this marriage.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I love my family, Alice. I can’t see them penniless. And what would happen to you and Lilly?”

“God took care of us when I lost my Peter, and He brought us to your family. He’ll do it again if need be.” Alice laughed. “Besides, my Lilly says she could always work for you and Mr. Boring.”

Marguerite moaned. “I’m trapped. Totally and completely hemmed in. What am I going to do?”

Standing, Alice shook out her skirt. “I don’t know the answer, but I know Who does, and you do too. Why don’t you go back to your tent and pray about it? Besides, it’s your birthday, and Lilly’s got a present for you.”

“She made me a gift?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“She bought one?”

“No, didn’t say that either.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll just have to go ask her.”

Marguerite found Lilly inside their tent. After sharing with her friend what she’d heard, the two of them prayed for answers. When Marguerite could hold her tongue no longer, she mentioned what Alice had said about a gift.

Lilly laughed. “I reckon you’re dying to know what it is, aren’t you? My present is that I’m going to teach you to swim. I found us a nice, quiet place where we can practice in the afternoons.”

“Oh, Lilly, how can I thank you?”

Lilly grinned, revealing her stunning smile. “By being a good student and doing what I tell you.”