Rescued by his Healing Touch, page 19
“Precisely,” Sophie said, nodding. “It’s terrible. Of course, we could pen a note to your father right now and go out to the dairy and tell mine…things would certainly be simpler then.”
Tucker considered this. With the shop and the house in Galveston both needing extensive and costly repairs, courtesy of the storm, he didn’t think now was a good time to tell his father that merging with the Williams’ farm would not be happening by marriage in a note. Something of this magnitude needed finesse, it needed a face-to-face meeting.
Almost like a waking dream, Tucker considered what his father would say when he told him. Would he run to Oswald, begging to get the investors onboard? Was he doing so even now, afraid his business would crumble under the heavy financial strain it was now under? That was the most likely scenario. In that case, Tucker would have nothing to lose by telling his father in no uncertain terms that the farce of a wedding was off.
He would tell his father that he was in love with Angeline and be done with this whole affair. If that meant he had to put up with Oswald and his ridiculous ideas, then so be it. At least he would be happy every evening when he came in the house and saw Angeline waiting for him. He’d have love, and that was all that mattered.
“Oh, I know that look,” Sophie said. “What have you decided?”
Tucker smiled. “I’m going to see my father and talk to him, honestly, face to face.”
“You’re going to tell him?” she asked excitedly.
He nodded. “I think this little charade has gone on long enough. I mentioned it the other day in passing as a what-if sort of situation and his head didn’t explode. So, we might be able to get through this.”
“Well, that’s a start,” she said, looking far happier than he’d seen her in ages. “You’ll have to come and tell me how it went when you get back.”
“I’m not going right now,” he said.
“Pity,” she said with a laugh.
Tucker promised he would go as soon as possible and tell her everything, right down to each word spoken, the moment he got back. Satisfied, Sophie went back home with a new spring in her step.
For the rest of the day, Tucker did his work with great enthusiasm and energy. Putting this off for even another day would only weaken his resolve. He loved his parents dearly, which was why he’d never fought them particularly hard about his marriage to Sophie. But now, he loved Angeline too much.
He could see a future with her, and the only thing standing in his way was this ridiculous arrangement. So, the next morning, he would set off for Galveston, free to speak to his father all day if needs be. If he was hard to convince, then Tucker would try harder and not leave until he had his way. His resolve was such that he blurted out his intension to go to Galveston just as they all sat down to dinner.
“Oh, marvelous,” Angeline said,passing a bowl of mashed potatoes to him. “Could I come, too? I need to go to the haberdashery in Galveston. I need some fabric.”
Tucker froze for a moment and blinked. He hadn’t figured on her coming with. He had planned to spend the ride to Galveston considering how to approach this delicate subject with his father. But she was waiting, smiling at him, a hopeful look on her face. How could he ever say no to those liquid chocolate eyes?
“Well, sure,” he said. Company might be nice. Especially hers.
Her hopeful smile turned into a thrilled grin, and that settled it. Angeline was coming with.
They left early the next morning. Josephine stated quite forcefully that she was perfectly capable of making lunch for everyone on the farm, thank you very much. Angeline hadn’t pressed the issue but had suggested options for her mother to make.
It was a gray day with a surprisingly cold wind blowing from early on, but as they rode and the day progressed, the cold wind and clouds gave way to warm sunshine and a light breeze. Angeline was on Jones the dappled gray again and he was riding Apricot.
“Have you had any word on the repairs to your mother’s store?” Angeline asked as they rode along at a gentle pace.
Tucker nodded. “Yes. They’ve started, but it’s going slowly. There is a lot of repair work needed at the moment, and only a few people who can do it.”
She nodded. “I can imagine.”
“What is Josephine going to do with the land she owns?” he asked. “Is she going to sell it?”
Angeline sighed. “I wish she would. She’s been holding onto it for ages and with no return from it. She has an acre—surely that should sell nicely, shouldn’t it?”
Tucker agreed. It should in such a big farming area. “I can help her, if she’ll let me.”
They both laughed at the idea of her mother letting anyone do anything for her. “If you get that right, tell me how you did it,” Angeline said.
Their conversation rolled lightly from topic to topic and was never any effort at all. Speaking to Angeline was often like speaking to one of his good friends, like Sophie or Mal. They seemed to understand each other innately and Tucker appreciated that.
For her part, Angeline’s questions were valid and smart, and when he gave an answer, she listened. Of course, she didn’t always agree with him, and that was one of the things he liked about her. She was able to argue an opinion with grace and wit and be almost completely unemotional about it. It had to be the years of practice disagreeing with her mother that had developed her into such a fantastic debate partner.
When they reached the ferry, they decided to have some of the provisions Angeline had packed for them. They turned out to be his favorite sandwiches, and they relaxed as the boat took them to Galveston.
There had been signs of the storm everywhere, but nowhere was it more evident than on the island. Everywhere, people were out repairing roofs that had had their shingles blown off, or where branches or whole trees had come crashing down on them. Some buildings had been hit by high seas and partially washed away.
Luckily, his parents’ store was well away from the water and had suffered mostly wind damage to the exterior. The large display windows had been broken by flying branches and there was a lot of water damage inside the store.
“Oh, my goodness,” Angeline said her eyes wide. “This is terrible.”
Tucker nodded. He could see work men traipsing around inside with shovels and tools as they repaired the damage. No doubt his mother had taken what she could from the store and put it somewhere, possibly at the house. She was strong, she would survive this. It wasn’t the worst storm that had ever hit the island and likely would not be the last, either.
The haberdashery had fared a little better. They were open for business, trading from tables set up on the sidewalk where they had cleared the debris. A large handwritten cardboard sign declared that all storm-damaged fabrics were half-off. Angeline’s eyes brightened as she read it.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said. “Now I should be able to make a bigger pillow for Sophie.”
“That’s what you want the fabric for?” he asked. He had assumed she wanted to make an apron or something.
“She’s struggling with the down-filled one so I thought if I made one and filled it with strips of cotton and linen material then it would be soft and wouldn’t aggravate her lungs.”
“That’s brilliant,” he said, smiling, and trying to hide his surprise. “That’s amazingly brilliant.”
“You say it like my having good ideas is a surprise,” she said, a little accusatorily.
“Now, now,” he said. “You might want to get in there before all the good material is gone.”
The tables were seeing a lot of business. People needed to replace a good deal of things and fabric at half-off was apparently not to be sneezed at.
Leaving Angeline at the tables sorting through more piles of material than he would ever want to have to deal with, Tucker went to his father’s club. He went there on a hunch that his father would rather be there, lazing around, than at home with his mother.
He was right. The club had suffered next to no damage thanks to the stout storm shutters that hung beside the windows. They were looking a little battered but had clearly done their jobs.
Gerard showed him in and brought him a cup of coffee at his request. His father was sitting in his usual armchair, reading the paper. He looked over the top of it at his son and sighed. “I knew it would only be a matter of time before you came to see me.”
“You did?” Tucker asked frowning. How could his father possibly know?
“So, tell me,” his father said folding his paper and tucking it away down the side of his chair, “how bad is it?”
Tucker was lost. How bad was what? “Sorry, Father, I’m not following you.”
“At the farm,” his father said. ‘How bad is the damage? How much are the all the repairs going to cost?” He sounded defeated, as though a large boot had stepped on him, flattening him just enough to make him feel terrible but not enough to kill him.
Tucker shook his head and sipped his coffee. “The repairs to the farm were minor and have all been done. In fact, we’re chugging along better than ever.”
He went into a quick elaboration of how Josephine had taken over the work in the dairy and that Henry and Trevor were both working there now making cheeses.
“The moment the store is ready to open, we have cheeses for mother to sell,” Tucker said with a broad smile.
His father seemed to visibly relax. “Oh, that is good news,” he said. ‘I was afraid you were about to tell me of more money that had to come out of my pocket. Which is terrible, because my pocket is quite empty.”
“Don’t worry, Father, it will be full again, soon,” Tucker said.
“I hope so,” his father said. “I’ve been looking into several distribution deals, and with the stupid storm, they all fell through.” He sighed. “I guess it’s all up to Oswald now. If he wants this partnership badly enough, he will come through with a more acceptable deal. Or, of course, we could merge our farm with Henry’s if you would only agree to set a date with Sophie.”
“Are those the only options?” Tucker asked, not liking either.
His father nodded. “Yes, well, except for selling the farm and finding something else to do.”
Tucker didn’t like the sound of that at all. What a truly horrible idea. He couldn’t let that happen to his cows.
“Father,” he said, “why do I have to marry Sophie to merge our farm with Henry’s?”
His father fixed him with a serious look. “Because, my boy, the bond of marriage is much harder to break than a mere contract between men. That is a contract with God, and it’s binding for life.”
“Yes, I know all that, but Henry seems keen to merge, so why not just do it and let a legal contract be drawn up?” Tucker asked.
“I told you, legal contracts can be contested and renegotiated,” his father said.
“And marriages can be annulled,” Tucker countered.
His father sighed and leaned forward, grabbing his pipe from the little table beside him. “What’s your point, boy?”
Seeing his father about to light up, Tucker opened the window beside him just a crack. At least then he wouldn’t be wreathed in smoke.
“The point is that I don’t think entering into a marriage to gain a farm is a good thing,” he said, honestly. “I don’t want to marry Sophie for her inheritance.”
“Why not? People do it all the time,” his father said, packing the bowl with tobacco. “There’s nothing wrong with it. You two are on excellent terms with each other. Heavens, one might even suggest that you love each other. So, what’s the problem?”
This was it—his one chance to convince his father that marrying Sophie would not bring anyone any joy.
“Sophie and I know each other too well,” Tucker said. “It’s like we grew up in the same household, with the same parents.”
“But you love each other, and knowing each other is a good thing,” his father insisted, lighting his pipe.
“Yes,” Tucker said, “but not when that love is more like a brother for his sister than a husband for his wife.”
He said the words pointedly, trying his best to make his father understand without spelling it out too blatantly. He didn’t think Gerard would appreciate such a conversation being enacted loudly in full hearing of the rest of his clientele.
Admittedly, there were only three other gentlemen in the club, and they all appeared to be asleep. Still, he found this kind of talk distasteful. Who he was attracted to and how should be no one’s business but his own.
“Oh, come now,” his father said, trying to dismiss his words with a wave of a hand. “You can’t be serious?”
“I am, so can we please discuss the other options?” Tucker asked.
His father sighed, expelling a mouthful of smoke. Tucker leaned back and waved a hand, trying to rid the air around him of the vile stuff. He’d never liked the smell.
“There aren’t any other options. Not now. Only merge or sell. That’s all there is left.”
“What about Oswald?” Tucker asked.
His father snorted with derisive laughter. “That buffoon? You have to be joking. I only keep him hanging on so that others will think there’s a good deal to be made. He’s far too ignorant for me to consider partnering with him or his mysterious investors. I can’t believe you took that seriously. It was utter tripe from the moment he suggested those milking machines.”
Tucker was relieved to hear that. He let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he was holding in. “Have you told him?”
“Oh, no!” his father said, shaking his head. “And I won’t. Not until you marry Sophie.”
“But I don’t love Sophie, Father. I love someone else entirely,” Tucker said.
“Does she have a dairy farm?” his father asked, flatly.
“No, it’s Angeline,” Tucker said. “I’m in love with Angeline. She comes with an acre of land in Alta Loma and a mother who makes really good cheese.”
“The housekeeper?” his father asked with a chuckle. “I’ll grant you she is pretty, but her over Sophie, who has breeding and grace? You must be joking. Sophie is a far better match for you, Ethan. This childish infatuation will have to come to an end. You should let her down softly, because she is a wonderful housekeeper and you don’t want to lose her. But she will make an atrocious wife.”
“How can you possibly say that?” Tucker exclaimed. The three sleeping gentlemen’s eyes all popped open and stared at him. He didn’t care. “Angeline is wonderful. She’s bright, warm, capable, independent, and she makes me so happy. Just talking to her is the most wonderful pastime in the world.”
His father sneered. “Oh, please. No, you will marry Sophie, or I am selling the farm to Oswald, and you know what will happen to the cows then, don’t you? They will never see the green grass of a pasture again, and it will be all your fault. So, think on that.”
“You wouldn’t!” Tucker couldn’t believe that those words had come from his own father’s mouth. How was this even possible? Had his father become possessed by some horrendous evil spirit or something?
‘Try me,” his father said, belching smoke like the demon he was impersonating. “Just try me.”
Chapter 19
August 1882
Galveston
The fabrics weren’t bad. Angeline sorted through them with a critical eye and decided on a nice cotton with little pink and yellow flowers printed on it for the casing for Sophie’s pillow. There was minimal damage to it and so this would be the most expensive of the materials she bought. The others, linens, velvets, cottons and so on that were heavily damaged, she managed to buy for a song, opting for all the pieces that were stained and ruined.
