An Unexpected Suitor (14 page)

“Sure,” he agreed, taking the cloth from Ellie. “Quite a party, isn’t it?”

“It’s such fun,” Ellie agreed. “And terribly romantic, don’t you think? I mean, the beach and all. And then the sun will be setting in a little while.”

“Why, Mrs. Chambliss, are you flirting with me?”

“Oh, Harry, stop fooling yourself. I can see how you look at Nola. Don’t you think it’s time you acted on your feelings?”

Harry didn’t even pretend not to know what she was saying. “Not meant to be,” he said. “We’re…different. Water and oil. Order and clutter.”

“Snowflakes and seashells,” Ellie added. “What’s your point? Nola is a good woman. She would be as good for you as you would be for her.” Her eyes misted over as she clutched his arm with her hand. “Take it from me, Harry. None of us knows how much time we have—perhaps the greatest sin lies in wasting the precious moments God offers. At least ask her to sit with you at the clambake,” she advised in a whisper as Nola returned to the table.

But Oliver and Minnie Franks joined the group at just that moment.

“Nola, come sit with us,” Oliver invited.

“Yes, please,” his wife added. “We’ve had so little time to catch up lately.”

They steered her to the far end of one long table, well away from Ellie and the others.

“Looks like it’s time to open the bake,” Harry said, handing Ellie the roll of cloth. He nodded to Nola as he passed by her on his way to help. “Miss Nola,” he murmured, “enjoy your meal.”

Nola was all too aware of Starbuck sitting at the far end of the table. His laughter rose above the chatter and the background of the surf rolling onto the sand. And when it wasn’t his laughter, it was the laughter of others, especially Violet Gillenwater who had defied her mother and taken her place next to Harry. “Why, Harry Starbuck, you say the most appalling things,” Nola heard her say.

It had gotten to the point where Nola was barely aware of Minnie’s attempts to include her in the conversation going on at their end of the table.

“Rose,” Oliver called out as he stood and relieved Rose of her plate and escorted her to the table. “We have saved a place just for you. And look, Nola is here as well. We were just talking about how Alistair has never missed a clambake in all the time we’ve…”

To everyone’s astonishment, Rose’s lower lip began to quiver uncontrollably and her hands flailed about as she reached for her glass of lemonade and knocked it over. Her face flushed and blotched, she pushed her way past others and fled.

“What on earth?” Judy Lang said as she mopped up the lemonade.

“I’ll go,” Nola said.

“Let me come with you,” Oliver offered. “Obviously it was something I said.”

“No. Stay here,” Nola replied, including in that instruction anyone else who might have had thoughts of accompanying her. “She needs privacy.”

Rose was sitting on a bench near the road. She was sobbing into an already-sodden lace handkerchief and the choking sounds she was making were not only alarming, they were heartrending. Nola sat down on the bench and offered the woman her own clean, dry handkerchief.

“Rose?”

The older woman shook her head and waved Nola away.

Nola slid closer and put her hand gingerly on Rose’s back. “What is it? Has something happened to Alistair?”

As suddenly as the tears had begun, they were gone. Rose wheeled around and stared at Nola, her face filled with fury as her lips worked to find words. “You have the nerve to ask such a thing when it was you who took those people in, gave that woman a position of prominence in your business? Gave her access to my husband?”

Nola tightened her grip on the hysterical woman. “Rose, calm yourself,” she said gently. “What woman?”

“The countess,” Rose spat out bitterly and then she gave a laugh that was high and cackling and totally devoid of humor. “Countess, indeed. She is a harlot who preys on the good intentions of unsuspecting men and traps them in her lair and—”

“Olga?”

Rose jerked free of Nola and stood. “Yes. Where is she? Have you seen her at all today?”

“She was here earlier, but this sort of thing is not really to her taste.”

“No, I suppose not. Her taste runs to enticing a respectable married man like my Alistair into becoming such a fool that he…” Her tirade unleashed a fresh wave of tears.

Nola’s mind raced. “You’re mistaken, Rose. Olga would never—”

“Are you questioning what my boys saw with their own eyes, Nola?” She drew in a long shuddering breath and her voice was high and tight as she added, “When I think that those dear impressionable lads should have witnessed their father—whom they idolize—with that woman in broad daylight.”

“I’m quite certain this is all a misunderstanding,” Nola said. But she wasn’t certain at all. What did she really know of Olga or the others?

“Has my husband ever missed a clambake?” Rose demanded. “Look around. Do you see him here?” She fanned her arm across the gathering on the beach. “No, and why not? He is with that…that…”

“There has to be some other explanation,” Nola murmured.

For the third time Rose dissolved into tears. “It’s my fault, of course,” she blubbered. “I have such high standards and Alistair has often reminded me that not everyone is as strong as I am when it comes to temptations.”

“But the countess was here,” Nola said. “Why don’t I just go to her cottage? I’m sure there’s a perfectly simple explanation to whatever Edgar and Albert might have thought they saw.”

“Oh, Nola dear, you’ve led such a sheltered life. My sons are not fools. They know what they saw.”

“And what exactly did they see?”

“They observed their father with that woman walking along the beach. They were oblivious to anyone else, laughing together. Laughing at me,” Rose added and her lip quivered.

“You’re leaping to conclusions here without…”

Rose scowled at Nola. “Sometimes I think I may have done your dear mother a disservice in not making sure that you got out into the world a bit. You are far too trusting, my dear, so naive when it comes to the matter of judging the character of others.” She gave one last shuddering sob and stood. “So I seriously doubt that you can explain to me why Alistair had to leave suddenly for Boston this very afternoon.”

“He often goes away on business suddenly,” Nola reminded Rose.

“He has gone ahead to make all the arrangements for their little rendezvous, don’t you see? And soon that woman will follow him. You mark my words.”

Nola sat quietly for a moment while Rose continued to pace, muttering to herself and clutching both Nola’s handkerchief and her own. There had to be some plausible explanation. Rose was given to jumping to conclusions, especially when she had already formed an opinion.

“I have tried my best to heed Reverend Diggs’s counsel and at least tolerate these theater people. For the sake of Alistair’s investment if nothing else. After all, I suppose one could think of them as assets in a purely business sense, but…”

“That’s true.” Nola felt a flicker of hope that perhaps Rose was coming to a more rational conclusion about the entire matter.

“But at the same time I have warned Alistair that no good could possibly come of actually socializing with such people.” She turned her attention to Nola as if just realizing that she was still there. “I have also warned you, for all the good it’s done.”

“Mrs. Chambliss and the others have been a great help
to me. They have offered not only their time and talent but their friendship.”

Rose pulled herself to her full height. “Well, if you consider yourself my friend, Nola Burns, you will do me the favor of disassociating yourself from those people at once. I will make certain you have proper staffing for the tearoom. Dorothy and Lucille and I have discussed it at length. We have found you two young girls of impeccable character. They are from a family here on the island that has fallen on difficult economic times. Not unlike your own situation after your mother died. Surely employing those girls is the charitable thing to do.”

“But…”

“Let Harry Starbuck provide for those people, Nola. He’s the one who brought them here in the first place. He has the means. It’s hardly as if you are putting them out into the street.”

“You are wrong about them, Rose,” Nola said. “They are good people. Mrs. Chambliss, for one, is a woman of strong faith and the others are so giving and—”

Perfectly composed once again, Rose Gillenwater leaned close to Nola’s face. “Get them out of your business and life or be prepared to suffer the consequences,” she hissed. Then she snapped open her parasol and sailed back across the sand toward a small group of dignitaries. “Ah, Mr. Mayor,” she chirped.

“She threatened you?” Judy gasped once Nola had relayed the entire story as they completed setting up for distributing the ice cream samples. “Then maybe we’ve both been barking up the wrong tree.”

“Meaning?”

“The notes. What if—”

“Oh, Judy, don’t be ridiculous. Whoever sent those notes has surely realized their prank won’t work—”

“You just said that Rose Gillenwater threatened you,” Judy reminded her.

“She didn’t threaten me,” Nola corrected. “It’s just her way. She has certain standards and she expects others to follow them—me especially because she was instrumental in keeping our family together after my mother died. Besides, she was upset. She has this idea that Alistair and the countess have been, well, carrying on.”

“Oh, Nola dear,” Rose Gillenwater called out from a short distance away. Two plain-faced and clearly nervous young girls were at her side. “May I present Constance and Clara Huff? The young
ladies
I mentioned for employ in your tearoom?”

“I am so pleased to learn of your interest,” Nola said graciously. “If you will both come by the tearoom tomorrow afternoon, it will give you the opportunity to observe my current employees and decide if indeed the work suits you.”

The Huff girls glanced nervously up at Rose who pressed her lips into a thin line. “I hardly think your current employees set the sort of example these young ladies need.”

“I trained them myself,” Nola replied, meeting Rose’s gaze.

“Very well. Tomorrow, girls.”

“On the other hand,” Nola added, “perhaps you could get a hint of what’s in store for you by helping me to serve the ice cream samples?”

Both girls broke into wide smiles. “Yes, ma’am,” they replied and took off toward the ice cream stand where Ellie and the rest of the actors were donning aprons and a line had already formed.

Nola watched them go then turned to face Rose. “Thank you for your concern. They may be an answer to prayer.”

With a barely audible harrumpf, Rose turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction.

U
nlike the recital, the ice cream samples were a spectacular success, especially with the young people. And the additional help of the Huff girls freed Jasper and Billy to entertain the crowd with an impromptu sing-along as the sun set and everyone gathered around a large campfire. When they had served the last customer, Nola sent the Huff and Kowalski sisters to enjoy the music. She was just licking the last of the melting ice cream from the spoon when she saw Harry coming across the beach toward her.

He was applauding as he might the end of a good performance. “I can see the reviews now,” he said. “Tearoom owner warms young at heart with ice cream.”

“I didn’t see you or Violet stop by for a sample,” Nola said. “Perhaps you’d like to take some to Miss Gillenwater. I believe there’s just enough for one more dish.”

“Why, Nola, you aren’t jealous, are you?”

“Certainly not.” She thrust a dish of half-melted ice cream at him.

He polished off the scoop in four quick spoonfuls.
“Delicious,” he murmured as he set the spoon on the counter behind her. “I’d tip my hat to you, but I seem to have misplaced it.”

Nola neither moved nor breathed as she took in the nearness of him. The smoke of the clambake fire that clung to his shirt, the faint fragrance of the lime that was his aftershave, the sheer presence of him so near to her. “I’m sorry. I left it behind when I went to change. I’ll…”

“By the way, Violet went home with her mother. Seems Mrs. Gillenwater was upset about something.”

“Yes. She thinks Alistair is preparing to run off with Olga.”

“Well, that will certainly be news to Alistair since he’s in Boston closing the sale on their townhouse and buying some mansion Rose has had her eye on for years as an anniversary gift.”

“Oh, Harry, you should tell Violet.”

“It’s also to be a surprise for Violet. It’s where she and her fiancé are to be married.”

“Violet is to be married?”

“Yep. Son of a shipping heir.” He touched her hair, then brushed the outline of her jaw with the backs of his knuckles. “You see, Nola, things are rarely as black and white as they may seem.”

“Oh, Harry, I just assumed that you and Violet…” she whispered. “Would you…”

“Kiss you?” he murmured back as he lowered his mouth to hers. “My pleasure,” he added a second before his lips—still cool from the ice cream—touched hers.

Down the beach a group of teenagers had set off skyrockets, but Nola was certain that those were no match for the fireworks she was feeling. The gentle pressure of Harry Starbuck’s kiss sent sparks up and down her spine.

“You taste like berries,” he whispered as he pulled away. “And smell like lily of the valley,” he added. “It’s a perfect fragrance for you. I noticed it that first day on your porch.”

He picked up the picnic basket she’d used to store the used spoons and hooked it over his arm. “May I see you home, Nola?” With his free hand he took hold of her elbow and as they stepped out of the stand, they were swallowed up by the tidal wave of partygoers still exclaiming over the fireworks. Together they walked up the stairway and on to the tearoom while the others went off in other directions calling out their farewells and promises to meet up again the following day.

“Well,” Harry said as he set the basket by the back door, “that wasn’t exactly the way I had planned to…”

“Please don’t concern yourself, Harry. It was impetuous but hardly out of character given the circumstances. I mean, after all…”

Before she could complete the sentence Harry had set the basket aside and bent to kiss her again. Nola murmured a protest of surprise and he stepped away.

“All outward appearances to the contrary, I am not an impetuous man, Nola. And I most certainly am not given to impulsive moves when it comes to you. I have far more respect for you than that. I intended to kiss you when I saw you alone down there. I thought about little else all during the clambake.”

“And this?” she said defiantly as she touched her lips.

To her surprise he chuckled. “Okay, this was pure impulse.” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “Look, Nola, I don’t know what’s happening here any more than you do, so don’t go giving me credit for plotting and planning when it comes to you. All I know is that with everything
that’s happened, this has become a lot more complicated than my wanting to make you an offer for your property.”

Nola took a moment to allow her racing heart to calm itself. “I know. Sometimes I have to wonder about God’s true purpose in everything that’s happening. I mean, perhaps He meant for us to become friends.”

“Exactly. So I was thinking that maybe we could spend some time together—time not dueling with each other.”

“A kind of truce?”

He nodded. “I’ve liked the suggestions you’ve been making to Ellie about the play. And I can’t get that fugue you were working on out of my head. I think it might be perfect for the closing number in Act One.”

“I have no professional training, Harry.”

“You have something better.” He tugged at her ear. “That natural ear for music. So, how about it? Could we start fresh—common ground, so to speak?”

“I did have some thoughts about the opening,” she admitted.

He leaned closer. “I’d love to hear those thoughts.”

Nola took a step back. “Very well. I could spare an hour tomorrow morning.”

“Afraid not,” Harry replied. “I’ve got to meet with the carpenters tomorrow about installing the lighting for the stage. How about tomorrow evening?”

“Four-thirty—just after closing,” she bargained.

“And while Mrs. Lang is still around cleaning up,” he guessed.

“Precisely.” Nola offered him a handshake. And she could not help but be delighted when he took her hand and kissed it with a courtly bow.

“Good night, Miss Nola,” he whispered.

“Good night, Starbuck.”

Now that Nola had hired the Huff sisters and relieved the actors of any further duty in the tearoom, town locals focused their concern on the fact that Nola was now openly working with Harry on his play. Nola seemed to think nothing of stopping by Harry’s office to leave some piece of classical or religious music she’d discovered with a note about its potential use in the operetta. Nola chose to ignore reports from Judy that tongues were wagging all over town whenever Harry dashed into the tearoom in the middle of the afternoon rush to drop off his latest rewrite of the lyrics.

But Nola was thrilled with this opportunity to collaborate on the operetta. At first she was reluctant to question Harry’s classical selections, but by week’s end she’d become so exasperated with his attempts to make a Viennese waltz work as the background for the play’s love song that she had thrown up her hands in frustration. “It’s all wrong, Harry.”

Harry was taken aback at her outburst. “Well, it needs work, but…”

“No. It won’t work at all. That’s the point. We need something else.”

Harry smiled. “We?”

“You…It needs something more tender. Something sweet and…”

“Then write something that will work.”

“I couldn’t,” she whispered.

Harry placed his hand on hers. “Try. I have to check on something at the cabaret. Work on that melody that I would guess is already playing in your head and we’ll start fresh tomorrow.”

In spite of her doubts, Nola found the work of composing for his lyrics thrilling. When he liked the melody she
came up with for the love ballad, he asked her to see what she could come up with for the closing number. It was as if she’d been preparing for this moment all her life. Melodies she had created in her youth and not thought of in years now seemed the perfect complement to the words and mood of Harry’s operetta. Hour after hour she sat at the piano setting down the music that had only played in her head until now. She was more certain than ever that her inspiration came from God and that this was what He had intended for her life.

And although she had missed the company of the others, and especially her late-night chats with Ellie, now that music filled the house, Nola seldom felt surrounded by emptiness as she had in the past. The truth was that she barely had enough hours in the day to manage the tearoom, plan the next ice cream social and create more original melodies for Harry to consider. One night she had gotten so caught up in the project that she hadn’t gotten to bed at all and Judy had found her the next morning, sound asleep with her head cradled in her folded arms while still seated at the piano.

“That man is working you too hard,” she groused.

“Harry has nothing to do with this, Judy.” Nola yawned and stretched. “It’s me. Oh, Judy, what if you were right? What if God is driving me to do this. It just feels so…”

“And what happens once you’ve finished? It’s bound to be a letdown not to have some project to work on.”

“But I will always have this, Judy. That’s the gift of it. For the rest of my life, I will carry with me the memory of this summer—of composing music for a play that could inspire audiences I’ll never see. I don’t need more than that. I never thought I would have this,” Nola said. “And it’s all thanks to Harry,” she added.

“Humph,” Judy grumbled. “Seems to me there was a
time not too long ago when you wouldn’t have trusted that man any further than from here to there.” She held her hands six inches apart. “Now all of a sudden it’s Harry this and Harry that. You need to watch yourself, my girl. It’s not just the composing that’s got you all worked up. It’s Harrison Starbuck. He’s a heartbreaker, that one. Not intentionally, I’ll give you, but a heartbreaker nonetheless.”

“Oh, Judy, give me some credit for knowing what’s what,” Nola said as she grabbed the startled woman and hugged her. “Harry and I respect each other’s talents just as we have always grudgingly respected the other’s business acumen. The difference is that through our collaboration we have become friends. That’s all there is to it and all there ever will be. Now how can that end in tragedy?”

“And what about this place? You don’t think he’s just suddenly dropped the whole idea of buying you out, do you?”

“No, but…”

“You need to see the whole picture, Nola. You and Harry are having some fun now and that’s nice. But he’s not in this alone. He has people who expect him to come up with this place in the end.”

“I know that,” Nola said, unable to suppress her irritation with Judy’s lecture. The truth was that she had indeed lost sight of that. But now all her doubts about Harry’s true motivations came flooding back. What if this entire thing were no more than his latest ploy to distract her while her business continued to suffer?

Judy put down her rolling pin and dusted the flour off her hands as she reached out to enfold Nola in her arms. “Ah, sweet child, you think it doesn’t do my heart good to see you so happy? To see you all sunshine and laughter these last several days? All I’m saying is be careful.”

“Do you really believe that Harry would hurt me?”

“Not intentionally,” Judy agreed. “But you of all people should understand that when it comes to business, sometimes people with the best intentions have to make hard decisions. Just don’t forget that. Now go lie down. The Huff girls and I can handle things for one afternoon.”

“No, you’re right. It’s high time I paid attention to my business. After all, in just a few weeks the gala will have come and gone—as will Harry and the others. But we will still have this tearoom to run. I’m going for the mail and then I’m going to contact every inn and hotel on the island until I find you some extra help.”

“The Huff girls are doing their best,” Judy said.

“The Huff girls are two inexperienced teens trying to do work that was handled by six mature adults. We need more help, Judy.”

Not a quarter of an hour later she was back. She entered the kitchen in a rush, allowing the back screen door to slam behind her and startling Judy. She held one envelope and dropped the rest of the mail on the kitchen table, then paced over to the kitchen door.

“You’re back awfully quick,” Judy ventured.

“Yes.” Nola chewed her lower lip as she tapped the envelope against her skirt.

Judy returned to kneading dough.

“The Cabbage Inn in New Bedford is closing.”

That got Judy’s attention. “Now? With the season already half-gone?”

Nola nodded. “Alice Rowling was quite ill all spring. Her son tried his hand at keeping the place open, but apparently he’s decided to close the doors.”

“I’m real sorry to hear about that,” Judy replied, watching Nola carefully.

“They have a staff of five hired for the season. We could hire them here. Then the Huff sisters could take on the ice cream socials. They’d rather wait on young people anyway, I’m sure.”

“These folks from New Bedford are willing to come here for the remainder of this summer?”

“I don’t know,” Nola said, pulling out the letter and scanning it quickly. “He doesn’t say. Maybe he wants to know there’s a place for them before he brings it up. Oh, Judy, this could be an answer to our prayers.”

“Well, this would certainly clear up any notion that you’ve given up on keeping this place up and running.”