Galveston Between Wind and Water - By Rachel Cartwright Page 0,33
McGowan,” Caden said, concentrating to keep the thin smile on his face.
Bret turned to face him. “One of many, Doctor. It’s inconceivable that civilized nations should tolerate this injustice much longer. It’s one of the many things that must change if the world is to advance in the next century.” He withdrew a gold watch on a chain from his vest pocket and glanced down at it.
Caden could barely contain his unbounded contempt for such physical and moral weakness. The sheer failure of old-world liberalism with its appalling inability to stem the tide, fused in him the condemnation of all self-indulgence and the absolute vanity of its naïve sensual notions. “Then we have much in common, Mr. McGowan.” Caden offered a polite nod to the younger man. “And I assure you, sir, I, for one, am dedicated to the advancement of mankind . . . and the price that must be paid for doing so.”
Bret glared at him. “When I was a boy, before the war, I remember hearing men speak the same way.”
Caden paused and studied his solemn rival. And what else do you remember, Bret McGowan? Not much I think . . . or is this some game you wish to play? Very well, let us strike a wager and see whom the odds favor.
He motioned toward the Society papers on the bureau desk. “I am certain we have both learned many hard lessons since those dark years, sir. You have only to peruse our Society’s journals and articles to ascertain the strength and sincerity of our convictions.”
Caden turned to his new, striking lady friend. “Good day, Gabrielle, I hope that we shall meet again . . . under more favorable circumstances. Please, thank your father again for his time and generosity.”
“My, so much serious talk on such a light summer’s day,” said Gabrielle, seeming to hasten both men out of the parlor with her quick steps. “Verna and I will have to take a stroll along the boardwalk just to clear my mind so I can even think about everything we’ve talked about.”
Standing in the hall, Caden nodded and glanced at the visitor once more. “And good day to you, Mr. McGowan.” Gabrielle’s grave friend remained silent behind the Caden’s back, but he felt the cold bore of the younger man’s stare pricking at his skin as he walked out. One man may forget much of when he was a child. But another man who was a younger man then still remembers all.
Bret took a deep breath as he watched Gabrielle bid good day to Doctor Hellreich at the front door. And good riddance too, hopefully. How could he allow a stranger to affect him in such a disturbing way? Bret shook his head and loosened his shoulders.
Gabrielle turned but did not close the door. She stood immobile by the polished brass handle, hands folded in the front of her skirt as if expecting him to leave momentarily.
Bret smiled. “I guarantee your father will be more than satisfied with the dessert table tonight. I respect a man who goes against the grain and prefers the finer things first.”
Gabrielle glanced outside. “Don’t put yourself out on our account. He hasn’t made up his mind yet.”
Bret stepped closer. “And you?”
Gabrielle ignored the question as she watched a brown mare pulling a red-fringed surrey drive by. “It doesn’t matter what Verna or I prepare for him. These days all he can say is; ‘Your mother would never have served that,’ or ‘Your mother knew the way I liked my poached fish.’” She turned back toward him. “You remember the way he used to eat? Now it’s all cakes and truffles washed down with bourbon and scotch.”
Bret put his hand on her arm. He could see her struggling to fight back the tears and he knew the sad truth of what she was saying. When his mother was older she was always on about his father.
Near the end it was as if she had brought her dear William back to life and all she had to do was get out of bed and take his outstretched hand. “Don’t worry yourself, darlin’,” he answered. “I understand. You’re doing the best you can. You always have. Just don’t begrudge your old daddy his only other comforts in life.”
Gabrielle wiped back a tear and brought back the lost sparkle to her eyes he hadn’t seen in years. “Please, Bret, you should go.”