For the next hour, Mrs. Wilkinson fussed with aligning the furniture, spending much of the time with hands on hips, her head tipping from one side to the other. Maddie left her to it and resumed her unpacking.
Mid-afternoon, Mrs. Wilkinson announced, "It's time for me to see to Mr. Wilkinson's dinner. Don't you want to return home as well? It's been a long day." Mrs. Wilkinson positioned her hat over her tower of curls, securing it with a pin. She peered out the window, frowning at the sky. "I do believe it might rain. Perhaps you should go too."
Maddie cradled three volumes of poetry in her arms. "I just want to finish this box if you don't mind."
"If you wish. Just tell Mr. Wilkinson when you are leaving so he can lock the door after you." Mrs. Wilkinson took one last approving survey around the shop and left in a flurry of skirts.
Scarce minutes had passed before a light rain began tapping insistently against the new windows. Engrossed in her work as she was, Maddie scarcely noticed. A light knock at the door brought her head up. Under the shade of the awning loomed a dark figure. She gave a start as nightmare images of faceless, dark-haired Italians came to mind. The figure at the door shifted, light from the shop illuminating his features. A flood of relief swept over her to see the specter resolve itself into the friendly face of David Reynolds.
She opened the door, noticing the rain for the first time, shivering as a cold wind followed him into the shop. "Dr. Reynolds, hello. Oh my, when did this begin?"
David struggled for a moment to close his umbrella, managing to soak his pants and the hem of her skirt at the same time. "Sorry." For a horrifying moment, she thought he might try to brush her skirt dry. She quickly stepped to the side, saving them both the embarrassment.
"The sky’s looked threatening all afternoon. It's a cold rain and I can't help but wonder if snow might be coming this evening. I forget sometimes how much elevation alters the weather."
Maddie frowned considering the possibility of snow in spring. However, the thought passed as she watched David take in the transformation of the shop, a smile stretching across his face. Still functioning in a state of mild euphoria about her day spent in the company of history’s great authors, Maddie swept the room with her outstretched arm. "I think we just might have something to appeal to your reading tastes."
David scanned the shelves. "You've been busy." His gaze fell upon the over-stuffed chairs and rug, the lamps. "This is quite the change from the last time I visited. I’m impressed with what you and Mrs. Wilkinson have accomplished in such a short time."
"Oh, this was Mrs. Wilkinson's vision. I just helped, but it is lovely, isn't it?"
"Makes me feel quite at home, almost as though I were back in Baltimore. My parents had a reading room not unlike this. I spent many happy childhood hours there with a good book. Too many, according to my mother. She shooed me out of the room on more than one occasion, scolding me to go out and play."
Maddie tried to picture the doctor as a young man curled up in a chair, a book in his hands before a crackling fire. She concluded that the image suited the man.
He turned and caught her observing him. "I didn't answer your question, did I?"
Maddie tried unsuccessfully to remember the question, frowning.
"I came to see if you might need an escort home. It's raining, and I thought you might have come unprepared since the sun was shining this morning. I brought an umbrella from the office." He gestured to the street. "Remember? The rain?"
Maddie took a moment to take in the sight of the rain sheeting down the new window. "Oh. Oh my! I forgot my promise to help Lena with dinner!"
With a quick word to Mr. Wilkinson, she stepped out into the street with David. He took her arm, walking close enough for her to feel the steamy warmth of his body next to her. Being the gentleman that he was, he gave her the greater share of the umbrella’s protection. The consequence of his generosity was the dousing of his entire left side, including his fine leather boots.
The sight of his shoes bravely stepping through puddles kindled memories of her father. She recalled how particular he had been about his clothing in general, taking pride in a well-groomed appearance for society to admire. When times were good, meaning his scamming deals were lucrative, he always made sure he had the finest shoes money could buy. He'd told her often that a man is judged by the quality of his footwear, hence he insisted on being, quite literally, well-heeled. Seeing David's shoes so abused had a strange effect on her. Her father would not have made such a sacrifice.
David's voice sounded magnified under the umbrella’s canopy. She jumped when he asked, "How have you been keeping Jessie occupied these days?"
Relieved to have a safe topic of conversation, she answered, "Reading sometimes. Just talking about happenings around town, what the church ladies are gossiping about, or fighting about." She laughed lightly. "But she is quite restless and I'm not sure she can tolerate much more imposed bed rest."
He leaned in a little closer as they passed a man scurrying past them on the street. "I’m not surprised. Perhaps we can find a way to give her some small tasks in the kitchen if she wants. We could bring in a chair and a means to have her put her feet up while she works. I’m sure the change would be good for everyone. Lately, I’ve noticed Bart looking a little frayed at the edges."
His breath was warm against her cheek, carrying a sweet scent of peppermint. She stopped worrying about his shoes, his nearness drawing them into an unexpected intimacy beneath the sheltering umbrella.
A burst of voices blew across them as the door to the saloon opened. The man that blew out with the voices stumbled into Maddie, nearly knocking her off her feet. Had David not caught her, she would have fallen.
"Oh, 'scuze me miss." The bearded man leaned low beneath the umbrella to view her face. "Oh! You're a pretty one. You want to share your umbrella with me?" He grinned, his breath reeking of whiskey.
David gripped Maddie’s elbow and pulled her behind him, then placed his hand on the man’s chest saying, "I think you'd better move along. The lady is with me."
The man pulled himself straighter, and leaned back, seeing David for the first time. He narrowed his eyes and said, "With you, you says? And who's you? No one I'm knowin'. Sure's not anyone I know who could make me move anywhere."
David gave the umbrella to Maddie, then he deftly took the man's arm and spun him in the direction of the saloon door again. "I tell you what. Why don't we go inside and get better acquainted?"
"You intendin' to buy me a drink?" In an instant, the man's tone altered, becoming less confrontational and far more agreeable.
"Of course." David mouthed the words wait here. He steered the man through the door. Inside David ushered the man to the bar where he leaned in close to the bartender, exchanging words. If only she’d been gifted with the ability to read lips as well as faces.
She had to step aside as two men excused themselves to pass her. As she did a poster, secured in the lower corner of the window, caught her eye. The image of a well-dressed man took up most of the space. Above his likeness was one word, wanted. Although the artist had missed the finer details, the image looking back at her was unmistakably that of her father.
Chapter 20
Someone took Maddie's elbow. Jumping to the side, she scrambled for footing on the slick boardwalk.
David steadied her by placing a hand to her side. "Are you, all right? You look as though you'd seen a ghost. Did someone else speak to you inappropriately?" He glanced up and down the street, before taking her arm. "Let's get you home. The weather’s worsening. I might have been correct about snow."
Although David chattered amiably on their way home, Maddie only comprehended snatches of his attempt at conversation. He seemed pleased with himself for resolving the situation without physically restraining the man. She understood something about how he’d instructed the barkeeper to serve the man a watered-down drink and something else about finding an escort home for him. His words became mixed with the s
teady rhythm of rain on the umbrella.
The image of her father swam before her eyes. Tears mixed with rain to blur her vision of the road before her. David rescued her more than once from stepping into a muddy pothole. As the winds increased, the rain began to drive at them sideways, both of them scarcely drier than had they left the umbrella behind. Grateful for the excuse of her soaked condition, she escaped upstairs as soon as they returned to the house.
Inside the safety of her bedroom, she stripped off her dripping skirt and blouse, shivering in her damp underskirts and camisole. She pulled the quilt around her shoulders as she slumped onto the floor. Sitting there as she had on her first night, she wondered if all that had happened in between had simply been a pleasant dream. How often had she hoped of such a place as this, a place to belong? But this . . . this being cold and alone was the more familiar experience. She hardly deserved any better.
Her thoughts turned dark, remembering those hours waiting for her father to retrieve her from some unlit and deserted train station or hotel lobby. Like a tender tomato sprout raised in the warmth of a sunny windowsill then moved to the back porch for a few hours a day of cold spring temperatures, she'd been placed into the harsh reality of an unprotected environment so that she could handle real life. Real life for her father meant that she never knew a true childhood, never played with others her age, never really felt safe.
A light knock at the door broke through her gloom. Lena opened the door just enough to peek inside, her smile driving a little of the chill away. "May I come in? I brought a cup of warm tea."
Maddie pushed a damp lock of hair out of her face and sat a little straighter. "Thank you." She accepted the cup and took a tentative sip. "I'm sorry I wasn't home to help you this afternoon."
Lena shrugged. "We're having Evan's favorite tonight. Leftovers. That man is the easiest person to please."
Maddie took another sip, grateful that she was no longer shivering.
"May I?" Lena indicated the space on the floor beside Maddie.
"Of course." Maddie scooted to the side to give her more room.
"Are you all right, dear?"
"Just cold."
Maddie sensed that Lena wished to explore the answer a little more in depth. It wouldn’t do. How could she?
"David was a bit concerned. He said you were fine and then you went suddenly pale as though something had frightened you. He was concerned that the drunken man had disturbed you. Was that it?"
"Perhaps a little." Maddie hoped that was enough of an explanation. It apparently wasn't enough to satisfy Lena.
"I feel a bit like Jessie right now." Lena chuckled.
"Oh?"
"A few years ago, she tried to talk to me about some things that I was blind to at the time. Funny how we can fool ourselves from seeing the truth. Jessie was the one who recognized Evan's attraction to me when I did not. I'd given up on the notion of love a long time before, believing I was too old or at least too homely. But she continued to pry open my eyes not only to my own inability to recognize the obvious but my own attraction to him."
Here was the story Maddie had wondered about. For a moment, she put aside her concerns and listened.
"Evan is a kind and sensitive soul, generous to a fault. I assumed his deference to me was merely a reaction of his character and nothing more." She patted Maddie's hand. "I was wrong, you see. To prove it he crossed a mountain for me, literally and figuratively."
"Sounds incredibly romantic."
"It was."
Maddie waited for the rest of the story, but Lena's body grew still as though she had gone to some place warmed by memory. She released her memory and drew her distant gaze back to Maddie. "I'm not one to pry into other people's lives."
Maddie gripped the teacup with both hands.
"But now that I know what happiness can be found with someone who truly loves you, I only want others to share in that same happiness. I have watched you sparring with David. I did that same thing with Evan. I kept pushing him away. I couldn't see what was driving our quarrels. For Evan, it was his deep concern for my well-being."
Lena must have seen the confusion on Maddie's face. "I'm sorry. Jessie would be so much better at this." She laughed. "I’ll just say it straight out. I believe that David has an interest in you, something beyond your physical well-being. Although, I'm not even sure he knows it himself."
Maddie expelled a breath of relief. Lena must have taken it as disbelief. "I'm quite serious, Maddie. When you aren't aware, I've seen how he looks at you."
Shaking her head, Maddie burst out, "That's silly. We are so different. He's serious and . . . " She screwed up her face trying to think of the proper word. Honest came to mind.
Lena smiled. "And opinionated?"
"Well, yes."
"And you aren't?" Lena added softly, “I think that makes you more similar than different, don't you?"
"But he's . . . he’s such a man!"
Lena blinked once, then the corners of her mouth tipped upward. "I’m relieved that you noticed that fact."
Maddie pulled her gaze from Lena to stare down at the teacup in her hands. "You know what I mean."
Lena placed a hand lightly on Maddie’s arm. "If you'd stop expecting him to disappoint you, you might be surprised at how much he agrees with you."
Maddie frowned down into her cup. The real reason for her fear returned with the memory of the poster. If only her troubles could be so simple. Considering her current plight, the last thing she could contemplate was becoming involved with someone. At any moment, she might have to take flight. The valise was still in the attic. Although its discovery would be her undoing, it also gave her a measure of comfort knowing it was there.
With it, she might be able to appease those who’d hired the Pinkertons. Surely, the investors only wanted their money returned. Then she remembered the others on her trail, those who would be satisfied with nothing less than their pound of flesh, her pound of flesh.
"Now, I'll go downstairs and chastise myself, I suppose. This kind of talk is best kept for those more talented in relationships, like Jessie. I always envied her natural ability to interact with people." She paused and Maddie felt the intensity of her gaze. “I hope I haven't upset you."
Maddie managed a wan smile. "No. I know you mean well."
"Well then, when Evan returns home we'll all have a nice hot meal. This certainly is strange weather. We were all taking such hope from the tulips. But spring will come in time. The changing of the seasons is something certain even when life is not."
She turned to go, but Maddie called after her. "Have you and Evan decided what to do about the ranch? I mean did you offer what Mr. Toliver was asking?"
"Not yet. We were going to look at our finances again tonight. We still have a week or so to decide. Why?"
"It's just that . . ." Maddie wanted so much to explain what she believed to be true of him. If she had to leave, maybe this would be a way to repay them for their kindness. "I don't think that Mr. Toliver is telling you the truth about the man in Pocatello."
Lena tipped her head to the side, eyebrows knit together. "Why would you say that? Did you hear something?"
She had heard something, but not from anyone other than the man's own mouth. Lies had a certain timbre, even a pace, so obvious. She closed her eyes and said, "I know."
Lena blinked, her confusion clearly written in her expression.
Maddie pulled herself from the floor and walked to the window. "I know when people are lying." Maybe if she didn't look at Lena, she could explain it. "I can't put it in words. It's just something I've been able to do for a very long time."
"But no one can say with absolute certainty what another person is thinking." Something in Lena's tone sounded a bit like fear—fear that she might be wrong. "Are you suggesting that you’re clairvoyant?"
"No. It isn’t like that. Please believe me. Mr. Toliver is not telling the truth. I can prove it." Maddie let the words hang for a moment be
fore asking, "There is still some leftover cornbread, yes?"
Lena stared blankly at Maddie, a look that might have indicated one of them was quite mad. A moment passed. She said, "Yes."
"Make sure you give a slice to David. At some point, ask him if he likes cornbread. He won't tell you that he doesn’t because he’s too polite. But I know, for a fact, that he doesn’t."
"I still don't see. . ."
"He actually abhors cornbread. He told me so when we ate at the cafe last week. He won't tell you that because he won't want to offend you. Along with being scrupulously honest he is also extremely polite. The last thing he'd want to do is hurt your feelings."
"He doesn't like cornbread so he won't tell me. So how will this prove your point?"
"Because he does something else that will let you know he's trying not to lie. He's probably been in this situation so often that he's developed a habit, a tic, that gives him time to form a response that is both honest and not hurtful."
"I must say that I'm intrigued. Go on."
"Watch and see if he pulls at his ear before he answers." Maddie closed her eyes for a moment. "I think it's his right ear. Yes, it is. His right ear."
Lena's folded her arms at her waist, saying, "All right. I'll try. But I think that one thing this does prove is that you've been observing David as much as he appears to be watching you." She laughed and walked to the door. "You'll be down in a short while?"
Maddie pulled the quilt tighter to her shoulders. "If you don't mind, I think I'd rather turn in early tonight." If she had to run, she’d rather not build any more memories with these kind people. She needed to disappear.
"All right. I’ll let you know how the experiment goes tomorrow." Lena paused, amusement in her eyes, saying, "I’m so glad you came to us, Maddie. You are a wonderful addition to our household." She closed the door softly behind her.
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