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“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, I’m sure,” he muttered with sarcasm.
Peeved, she proclaimed, “There’s no need to be patronizing.”
A new fury lit his eyes. “You want to talk about patronizing? You act like you are some queen bee who demands everyone pamper and spoil you yet underneath you’re nothing but a paranoid schizophrenic.”
She blinked.
“Other people generally appreciate an act of kindness and generosity.”
“I’m not like other people.”
“Believe me, I’m beginning to realize that. Under the coldest and off-putting conditions, I have tried to get to know you. But you are stubborn, frigid and—unfriendly!” This last word he nearly spat at her. “I rue the day I ever sat down to play a game of cards with your father.”
She felt her chest tighten.
“As a matter-of-fact, you can pass the message on to him that I decline his offer and he can keep his blasted boat!”
Then like that, he leaped into the carriage and slammed the door shut behind him, rapping hard on the glass to indicate to the rider to move on.
As the carriage rolled down the street, Evelina stood where he left her and felt the first onslaught of trembles take over her body. A tear slid down her cheek as she watched the buggy disappear down the street.
“Kathleen,” she croaked, knowing her sister was still on the porch and was witness to the excruciatingly embarrassing scene. “Would you please fetch father?”
“Yes, of course.”
After the girl had run into the house, Evelina collapsed on the ground and broke into full tears. She hated Ryan Colby. Why she ever thought she liked him or heaven forbid fantasized about being his wife, she had no idea. He was a cruel, heartless man who she wanted nothing to do with ever again.
“Oh, Evelina.” Her father rushed to her side and cooed loving endearments as he gathered her into his arms. She cried into his shoulder until he swung her up into his arms and carried her indoors.
Chapter 7
A couple of days later, Ryan was busy stocking supplies in the shipping cargo lot when Clive Hepworth sought him out.
Ryan rolled his eyes at the approaching man. “Whatever you have to say, Hepworth, I’m not interested.”
Clive held up his hands. “I just want a few minutes of your time.”
“Forget it, Hepworth. There isn’t anything you can say to make me change my mind.”
“So it’s true, you’ve relinquished your claim on the Lady Evelina?”
He barked with mockery. “Relinquish? I never actually owned the ship. You, my old friend, are a cunning hustler.”
“I had no choice.”
“You took me for a cotton-picking fool and what’s worse, I fell for it.” He growled, furious with himself more than with the old man. “I should have known you wouldn’t sacrifice the schooner.”
“It’s true that boat means a lot to me. I built her a couple of years after Evie was born, the last of my little ladies.” He reminisced with a smile. “Back then we lived on the outskirts of town on a small holding. There was a shed out back on the property where I began work on the schooner. Evie was a quiet little mouse of a thing back then. She would come down to the shed and stare at me all day, hardly making a peep. It took me several years before I completed the Lady Evelina, but all the while, my little introvert was there by my side quietly watching. There were times I’d forget she was even there.” He chuckled remembering. “She loved to just sit there in the darkened corner watching me whittle away at the hull. Her tiny frame silhouetted by a beam of sunlight that lit up her strawberry locks. I took my time, drawing out the process. Yes, I wanted to make sure to do the job just right but more importantly, my favorite little lady was watching me with such an intense gaze…I wanted her to be proud of her old geezer.”
Ryan frowned, slightly perturbed that he felt envious of Clive. He lacked the skills himself to build a boat up from scratch. Not that he hadn’t tried, but he soon realized his skills lay in the navigation end of sailing rather than the shipbuilding. Nevertheless, he could appreciate the time and labor, not to mention love, the old sailor had put into the boat. Having a bond over a shared memory with his daughter related to the creation of it, most definitely stirred Ryan’s conscience.
Giving his head a shake, he stiffened his resolve and refused to let the man make him feel guilty about the wager. “If you felt so strongly about the boat, then why did you risk throwing her in the poker game?”
“I didn’t—”
Ryan shot him a warning look.
