Galveston: Between Wind And Water (A Historical Literary Fiction Novel Filled with Romance and Drama) by Cartwright Rachel

Author:Cartwright, Rachel [Cartwright, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
ISBN: 9780988090774
Publisher: eRead Press
Published: 2013-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Tuesday, September 4

Rebecca began one of her weekly tasks of tending the Society hall’s garden at the side courtyard bordering 33rd Street.

The day had started with scheduled predictability, yet as the early morning haze gave way to the brilliance of afternoon she felt the torrid sun making her blood race faster with each passing minute.

Uncle Cade and Edward were visiting Society members on the outskirts of Galveston today and were not expected home until after dinner at the earliest. Before leaving, her uncle had instructed her to go about her morning duties and remain at work until she received her guest.

Rebecca clipped a worm-eaten rose into her basket. She stared at the spoiled and ravaged petals. Was she allowing her life to be torn from her in small pieces by a place and a vocation that didn’t represent her true desires or gifts?

She had agreed to everything her uncle said and was less surprised at the absence of any compulsion to either oppose or indulge his vengeful intentions than by the fact that since meeting Bret McGowan everything in her life was now colored by risk and exhilaration like an undercurrent of a perceptible fever.

Rebecca continued pruning the rosebushes. Pausing to remove her straw sun hat, she wiped the sweat from her brow and stared at the spoiled, wasted rose in her basket. She picked up the flower and ground the petals in her glove.

The sound of someone lifting the latch on the wrought-iron garden gate made her turn in that direction.

Bret strode under the overhanging palms, pushing aside an overgrown lilac as he made his way toward her. He removed his hat, exposing his perspiring head to the sun. His beige linen suit was excessively crumpled and visibly damp under the collar as though he had spent the night in it.

Drawing closer to her, his eyes—hard and dark in his unshaven face—confirmed that this was likely true.

She stopped pruning and smiled at him.

He paused, disheveled and anxious, about ten feet away and patted his forehead with a red handkerchief. “Lord, feels like another scorcher. I’m surprised you’re not down at the beach enjoying the waves.”

Rebecca put the gardening shears down on the wicker chair beside her. “In such a short time, you’ve come calling again. Surely, I can’t be that interesting. I’m positive you would find Miss Caldwell much more to your liking.”

“Whatever you’ve heard I can assure you that’s all in the past.” Bret stepped closer and ran the fingers of his hand through his dark hair. “I hope you didn’t ask me to visit to talk about my old friends.”

He snapped a lilac and inhaled its deep aroma. “I can’t forget your voice or that night and the song.” He stood close enough now that he could reach out and take her in his arms if he wanted. “The melody haunts me . . . even in my dreams.”

Rebecca removed her gardening gloves and placed them down beside the shears. “Why would that be?”

“I . . .

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