“How amazing!” Maddie lost herself in the article while David unhitched the mare. "It says here that she once stayed in an insane asylum to write a report on poor conditions there. If only Dr. Thornton were here, she’d be amused to hear his reaction. Only men capable of travel? How arrogant! Hurray, for Nellie Bly! Maddie knew she’d just gained a new role model to match Miss Emma Willard.
She looked up from the clipping to see Dr. Reynolds grinning at her. Maybe Lena was right when she suggested that he was . . . how did she put it? On her side. He’d thought of her when he read of another woman’s adventurous undertaking! Perhaps he was an ally.
As they rode back to Ketchum, the sun slipped behind the foothills, hugging the western side of the river. With its disappearance, the evening air brought the reminder that spring still stood as a gentle mediator between the stronger opposing forces of winter and summer. Maddie pulled her wrap tighter to her neck, grateful that the buggy afforded little space between her and the doctor. His body heat kept her left side warmer.
After minutes of quiet hoof beats against soft earth, David asked, "Now that you have found some employment with Mrs. Wilkinson, do you think you might be staying for a while?"
Maddie considered the lies she might tell, those to please herself and those to satisfy the doctor's curiosity. "Now that we do actually have books on the shelves and a few customers, I think the work might be steadier." She knew she hadn't answered the question, but hoped it was enough.
They rode in silence for a while, the sounds of evening song birds and slow clip of the mare's feet creating a gentle rhythm. David seemed content with their silent passage through the night, his body relaxed, reins loose in his hands. "There are some interesting people in this town." He said it not as a question but a statement of his own observations. She heard the hesitation in his voice as he chose the word people.
Feeling mischievous, she said, "I think that I would call many of them characters."
David passed her a bemused expression. "And what distinction makes them characters?"
Maddie leaned a fraction of an inch closer, blocking the small pocket of air between their shoulders. "I have known many people who were interesting. Some were interesting because of their features, perhaps a large bulbous nose or cheekbones sharp as knives. Some were interesting because of the way they spoke. People that speak with a cadence like telegraph keys. Others have voices that sound shrill and birdlike."
She tucked her hands beneath her skirt, gripping the seat. "But characters have distinct personalities, you know?" She looked at him, attempting to gauge his reaction. "I don't have to imagine who they really are. I can just watch them or listen to them. They're more than interesting people to me."
"Maybe that's what makes you a writer."
His remark warmed her as much as his physical proximity. To be taken seriously as a writer would bring validation to her efforts, something she wanted. She dared to glance at him from the corner of her eye. Again, his expression revealed no duplicity of meaning. He was such an honest man. Why did that fact have to come between them?
Evan, Lena and Ely's voices carried with the wind from the wagon a little way ahead of them. Sprinkled generously with laughter, their spirits seemed imbued with the dreamings of the day and the potent elixir of a fair spring evening. Maddie tipped her head back to gaze up at the sky where stars winked on behind a thin veil of high clouds. "Do you believe our lives are fated in the stars? Some do, you know, saying our choices are just an illusion of free will."
"You ask weighty questions for such a night as this, questions puzzled over by theologians and philosophers for centuries." A note of amusement colored his answer. "I’m not sure I have the wisdom to answer."
Maddie turned to him, persistent in her musings and determined to extract a direct answer. "Seriously, don't you sometimes feel as though you've had little control over the direction your life has taken? You would probably still be in Baltimore had you not become too ill to stay. Isn't that right?"
She saw his expression darken. A long moment passed before he answered in that steady cadence she associated with the voice he used for patients. "Yes, I probably would have stayed, but I'm not sure that disproves the possibility of free will. I didn't have to move west, but I chose to."
"But it does prove that circumstances beyond our control limit or expand our possibilities. Yes?" Maddie’s father's choices had impacted every aspect of her upbringing. She remembered the disappointment she'd felt as she left school, once again under her father's stifling influence. She'd long since given up the expectations of fair treatment in life.
"I believe our actions produce natural consequences. If I place my hand in the fire, I should expect to burn my hand. It still would have been a choice on my part to do so, a bad choice, but mine."
"But what if someone forced you to place your hand in the fire? The consequences would be the same but the cause would have been out of your control."
"Yes, of course. I’m sorry, Maddie. I'm still not clear what you're asking."
Maddie let out a heavy sigh before answering, "Oh, I don't know. It's just that . . . well . . . life never seems to travel in a straight line, does it? Just when you think you know what's going to happen next, it doesn't or it's different from what you expected. One day you are on a train to Shoshone and the next you find yourself in Ketchum." She hugged her arms about herself. "Life certainly isn't straight like a train track."
David turned his face to her, his expression unreadable. She knew she shouldn’t continue, but the questions so crowded and jumbled in her head refused to stop, needing to be voiced.
"But just think of it, David. If I hadn't overheard Lena and Evan's conversation with Mr. Toliver, they'd never have known he didn't have a legitimate buyer, and if they hadn't known that he was lying they'd not been able to purchase the ranch from Mrs. Wagner. Now they have their dream. Was that chance or fate?"
"Perhaps it was neither. Why not consider a third option? Could it have been a divine plan that placed you in the kitchen at just the right moment? Is that any harder to believe?"
Maddie didn't answer, recalling the preacher who'd read over her mother's grave and spoke of a Heavenly Father who meant everything for good. If God were like her father, then her good was the least of His concerns.
She shook her head and pulled her hands back into her lap. “Have I spoiled our day with such talk? I’m sorry.”
Her fears faded as David met her eyes. “Not at all. I don’t think anything could spoil such a day as we’ve shared.”
Chapter 24
Spring arrived in Big Wood River valley by gentle degrees, measured by color and fragrance more than temperatures. Both the vegetation and the residents paraded in brighter attire as the weather turned fair. Maddie, no less affected by the season, found the temptation of a peach colored blouse irresistible and purchased it on the spot, heedless of wisdom that would warn her to be less conspicuous. Her fondness for attractive clothing might be her downfall, but she consoled herself to believe that at least she'd die looking her best.
The weeks of May and early June swept Maddie farther along into the dream of her fabricated new life. She found herself at the center of the literary group that chattered happily through every Tuesday and Thursday morning. The women looked to her youth and experience with Eastern trends to guide their discussions and book selections. She unashamedly directed them to the great works, not only of men, but those penned by women authors.
Afternoons drew her further into Lena’s and Jessie's worlds. Jessie's excitement over the anticipated arrival of her twins became contagious. Even though Maddie's experience with sticky, odorous babies had led her to swear to live childless all her life, she enjoyed watching Jessie prepare her nest. With Dr. Reynolds' restrictions on her activities, Jessie used her hands to greatest advantage. Each week the pile of knit blankets, socks and caps grew higher, until one morning she asked Lena for a second basket to contain them all.
Bart quipped, "How many socks do you think our babies can go through wiggling around in a crib all day?"
To which Jessie, lifting her chin, answered, "There's plenty of babies, Mr. Long, that have none. Don't you worry. I'll find a home for each and every one."
Likewise, Lena and Evan's joyful anticipation of at last owning their own home filled each day with new ideas and detailed plans for their future. Maddie often found the two in the kitchen late at night or early morning, heads bent over a drawing of the house expansion or layout for additional barns. As they invited her to voice her opinion of their plans, she began to catch their vision for a home they'd one day share with strangers and family. She could visualize the two of them sitting around an expansive dining table or before the hearth, surrounded by friends and soon-to-be friends, discussing the latest works of literature or favorite classics.
In the evenings Maddie worked at her cozy desk, the pile of papers filled with characters and settings real and imagined growing higher each day. Like Jessie's socks, they spilled off the desk onto the floor. Havoc kept her company, sitting atop the pages on the desk or those discarded at her feet. The cat made it her habit to approve each page with a stamp of her paw, and Maddie privileged her alone with the knowledge of what she'd written.
Woven through that glorious spring of hopes and anticipations were the attentions of Dr. David Reynolds. No longer did she avoid him, but gladly accepted his invitations to lunch on Mondays and Wednesdays. Accustomed as she became to seeing them, the waitress brought two glasses of iced tea to their table before they'd ordered, usually followed by a saucy wink at David.
Their conversations flowed naturally out of the shared experiences of living with the Hartmanns. At times, David seemed to walk in the role of shy suitor while at others their relationship became more like brother and sister with Lena and Evan filling the position of parents. How was she to relate to him in return? Which role did she want of him—brother or suitor? While both were appreciated, and both were lacking in her life, the more time she spent with him the more she wanted. He was comfortable to be with, but she knew her attraction to him was more, taking her into uncharted territory—fearful and wonderful territory.
The balance scale tipped one evening in late May.
Lena and Maddie spent Saturday afternoon cleaning the room across the hall from Maddie's. Bart pressed into service once again, moved more items into the attic in anticipation of a new guest arriving later in the day. With considerable sneezing and wheezing, the three managed to transform the room into another pleasant living space, complete with oversized chair beneath the window and cozy comforter and braided rugs to add warmth.
Lena braced herself against the door frame, her arms folded over an apron smudged with the room’s years of accumulated grime. Her smile reflected satisfaction with the end result, while her fingernails showed the effort to get there.
"You don't think it's too feminine, do you?"
Maddie considered Lena’s question, giving the room an appraising scan. "No. Besides, what man wouldn't appreciate a woman's touch to his surroundings?" She pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "From what little I know of mining camps and frontier towns, men like such reminders of the civilization they left behind."
Lena removed an embroidered pillow from the bed. "Maybe this would suit your room better."
"So, you know who's coming?"
Lena frowned before plucking a doily from the back of the chair and stuffing it into her apron pocket. "Yes. He telephoned the sheriff's office asking Sam about accommodations for a short stay." Lena stepped back to the doorway again, tilting her head to one side. "Sam's a friend of Evan's and he remembered that we had a spare room. We won't turn down the extra income. With all the changes planned for the ranch, we can use it." The smile lines at the corners of her mouth returned. She scanned the room once more and pronounced, "That should do it."
Ely's violin and the spring night drew everyone onto the back porch. A canopy of stars sprinkled the heavens framed at the horizon by dark blue slumbering mountains. Maddie sat on the top step, her head resting against the porch post, while David took a similar seat on the opposite side of the wide step.
After Ely had finished an abbreviated version of Vivaldi's Spring and before he could begin another, Jessie made a request. "Won't you please play Mountain Moonrise again?" Leaning forward as far as her swollen belly would allow, she asked in a quiet voice, "Dr. Reynolds, don't you think Bart and I could dance just a little? It's a nice slow waltz."
David returned her imploring look with a wink. "Only if it's a waltz." Then he shook a warning finger. "No reels for you until those twins are born. Agreed?"
Jessie's face spread open in a wide smile. "Thank you! I would hug you if I could." She laughed a uniquely Jessie laugh that made her eyes shine.
Ely tuned his strings while Bart helped Jessie to her feet and down the steps. The tune was unfamiliar to Maddie, but clearly composed for such an occasion. The sight of Jessie and Bart dancing beneath the stars, though not with the same grace that Lena and Evan had demonstrated weeks earlier, brought back the pleasant sensations that continued to haunt her dreams. How she longed to feel them again.
For these past few years at school, she'd only dreamed of what she could achieve without the assistance of a man. Her teachers had been quite diligent in their efforts to convince their young protégés that women could achieve anything a man could. Watching the pair move to the music, so comfortable in each other's arms, she proposed to herself the obvious, that a family would take the involvement of both. And then remained the unmistakable issue of love.
She failed to respond to David's question. Not until he stood before her did she truly hear the question. "Would you care to join them, Maddie?"
His hand extending an invitation and the dimple curving at the corner of his smile made refusal impossible. She placed her hand in his larger one and allowed him to lead her to the lawn. He slid his other hand to her waist, standing a long moment before guiding her into the dance.
The violin lyricized as clear as any human voice. Sad and lovely, the music drifted through and around the dancers weaving them into the spring night, simple threads more impermanent than the river or the mountains.
Maddie closed her eyes, feeling the music as much as hearing it, growing more intoxicated with each note and step. Leaning into David's arms, she trusted him to find the steps and follow the rhythm. As she had weeks ago, she relinquished control of her steps to the man who held her so securely. A piece of her mind stood apart, marveling at this change in her, slightly disapproving. Another part of her, one guided by something apart from intellect, relished the moments.
The music ended too soon, and she was standing apart from his arms, at once missing the supporting warmth of his hand at her waist. He continued to hold her fingers in his long ones as they strolled back to the porch, the soft conversations, the golden glow of light spilling from open windows. She took her seat on the top step once more, David sitting close by her side.
Ely packed his violin in its case and said his goodnights. The other couples returned to the house, leaving the two on the step undisturbed. In a few moments, the natural sounds of the night became a rhapsody of its own with crickets singing the steady percussion.
David's voice startled her. "It's easy to feel at home here. As happy as I am for them, I'll be sorry to see the Hartmanns move out of town."
Maddie hadn't given that reality much consideration. Just when she was beginning to relax, to feel a part of a family, as unusual as it was, she might lose it. Her peaceful mood passed into the night as quickly as a shooting star. She drew her hands into her lap, absently prodding the cuticle on her index finger.
"Are you, all right?"
She realized that David was looking at her in that doctorly manner she found to be one of his least attractive features. It made her feel analyzed, rather like a bug under his microscope. Maddie pulled her hands together, sitting straighter und
er his stare. "Of course."
David reached out and took her hand in his, examining the finger she'd been worrying. "Nervous habit?" He brought her hand closer to him, examining the raw skin at the base of the nail.
She pulled her hand back into her lap. "Lena and I were cleaning today. I probably got some soap under the nail and it irritated the skin."
His eyes narrowed, skepticism looking back at her.
Her tone defensive, she said, "What if it is a nervous habit? At least I don't chew my nails."
Why didn't he stop staring at her? The look of disbelief faded from his eyes, replaced by something she couldn't identify. Whatever it was, she couldn't pull her own gaze from his. Then he was lifting her chin with his fingertips, his fingers warm against her skin. Leaning across the small space between them, he whispered, "You're so lovely, Maddie, in so many ways."
What she saw in his eyes was certainly not what she’d expect from a brother.
She felt her control slipping away again. There was no place in her life for such attachments. It would be madness to drop her guard, to yield to the temptation. Her hand reached up as though of its own accord and touched his sleeve. Heart pounding, she wondered if the doctor could detect the change of its rhythm. He must surely hear it as loud as it thundered in her own ears.
"David! Maddie! You must come meet . . . " Jessie gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry. You just go on doing what you're doing." She remained in the doorway half-in, half-out for an awkward moment before sputtering, "You can meet him later, I guess." The door closed quietly behind her.
Maddie's heart slowed to a rhythm allowing her to breathe again. Hearing a soft laugh from David, she risked a glance at him.
Grinning, he shook his head. "That Jessie. You have to love her."
A tall, flat-faced man with a balding head perched on the edge of the parlor divan, his hat in his hand. Aside from his size, he was unimposing, but he wore an air of confidence that instantly put Maddie on alert. Her discomfort only increased as he was introduced to her. His gaze was of one practiced at appraisals. He was either another scammer or the law. Either way, she feared he had come for her.
Redeeming Lies Page 17
