frowned for a moment. “Is something the matter?”
“No . . . no, sorry.” He sat up straight. “I was caught up in what you were saying.” He glanced away from her for a few moments. “What a terrible tragedy that must have been for you to lose both parents from influenza.”
Bret looked back at her. “A person thinks their own family misfortune is the worst thing that could happen, but when they hear things like this . . .” He shook his head. “I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to pry into your past.”
Rebecca dabbed a tear on her left cheek with her napkin. “No, it’s all right.” A wisp of a smile drifted across her lips. “I’ve been working late the last few nights for my uncle, that’s why I had to leave your party so quickly.” She folded the napkin into a perfect triangle and placed it back on the table. “I’m more tired than I thought. You’ve done nothing to apologize for.”
Bret picked up his coffee cup again. “You’ll have to forgive me for saying so, Rebecca, but your uncle sounds like a considerable taskmaster. Managing the affairs of an enterprise and home can consume all the time and energy of even the most resilient person.”
He took a sip of his coffee and swallowed. “People give their whole lives to a profession or family and then wonder why there’s nothing left for themselves. You should enjoy what the Lord has given you because you never know when . . .” He lowered his eyes again for a moment. “I’m sorry. I don’t wish to sound so maudlin on such a wonderful summer day.”
The smile on Rebecca’s lips stayed longer this time. “You’re very understanding.” She folded her hands in the lap of her dress. “I only wish my uncle could see things the same. I know he would have enjoyed your party immensely.”
Bret leaned forward. “I would very much like to speak with your uncle again. I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot the first time. Is he here?”
“No.”
“Perhaps another time.”
Rebecca looked down at her clasped hands. “I’m sorry.” She raised her head again. “He’s attending to errands and business and I’ve much to do before he returns for the lecture.”
Bret looked at her fingers fidgeting with the pleats of her dress. “Of course. Well, another day then,” he said as he rose.
Rebecca stood abruptly, keeping her hands pressed together against the front of her dress. “My uncle spends so much time attending to the needs of our international program that he hasn’t had the opportunity to meet many people outside of the Society during the time we’ve settled in Galveston.”
She turned a small globe of the world on the desk. “He returned from Germany only a few weeks ago after helping to establish headquarters in Berlin.” Rebecca paused and ran her finger around the globe’s equator. “It seems we get busier every year with new chapters opening in cities around the world.”
Bret picked up his hat and tapped the felt brim. “Then let me be the first gentleman in town, Rebecca, to extend an open invitation to you and your uncle.” He stared into her unblinking eyes. “I should very much like to see you again.”
Rebecca smiled briefly, the flush returning to her pale cheeks. She extended her hand. “I would look forward to that, Bret, thank you.”
“Then . . . may I be so bold as to ask you if you would accompany me to St. Patrick’s church tomorrow?” Bret took her small, cool hand into the larger warmth of his and pressed it gently against his flesh. He gazed at her in silence for a few moments; the snow white of her skin now bathed in a delicate rosy blush.
Rebecca didn’t want to be too hasty in her reply. She smiled and glanced down the hall again before turning to answer. “Yes, Bret. I would like that.” Rebecca withdrew her hand. She stepped toward the hallway and gestured toward the front door. “Tomorrow then. I look forward to attending the service . . . but I’m sure I’ve kept you long enough for today.”
Bret smiled. “On days like this I have all the time in the world.” He followed Rebecca back through the shadows of the cool, moist hallway toward the brilliant heat of the sun streaming in through the fanlight over the front door.
Wild inclinations swept through him in waves of heat and cold and with every step, familiar, overwhelming cravings