What Madeline Wants

by Linda Style

  Seeing some rolls of papers on the dresser, she went over. More blueprints. And next to those, two framed photographs, both yellowed with age. She picked up the one on her left. Judging from the veil and formal attire of the subjects, it was a wedding picture. Maddy peered closer. The bride’s gown was just like the one Maddy had found in the trunk.

  She set the photo down and picked up the picture next to it. This one was more recent. The woman was wearing the same veil and the same dress, but the hairstyle was more modern. Mid to late 1960s maybe. The young woman was tall, blond and beautiful, and the groom…looked very much like J.D.

  Lost in thought, she ran her thumb over the man’s face. He was every bit as handsome as J.D. except that his hair was a little darker and his eyes were darker, too. “Looking for something?” J.D.’s deep voice came from behind her.

  Maddy turned abruptly, nearly dropping the picture she held in her hands. “Oh… J.D.!” She felt her face go hot, and quickly set the photo down, making a loud thump on the dresser as she did. “I’m not…um…this isn’t what you might think.”

  He leaned against the wall by the door with a rifle in his hand, watching her fumble for words. “No? What is it then?”

  She edged away from the dresser and walked toward him, wanting to flee, but he was blocking the doorway and that left her standing in the middle of the room without anything to hold on to for support.

  “Well…uh, there was no one around when I came home, and after a few hours I got a little worried. I knocked and called for you but got no answer, and the door was ajar, so I peeked in because I thought something might be wrong…that maybe you were hurt or something like befo—”

  His eyes narrowed. His mouth drew into a tight line.

  “And you thought you’d lend the cripple a hand.” It was a statement not a question.

  Her spine stiffened. Dammit. She was tired of his attitude. So what if he had a bum leg. Lots of people dealt with disabilities worse than his all the time. “That’s right,” she said crisply. “As a matter of fact, I really get off on that kind of thing. But hell, it’s no fun unless I’ve got someone willing to grovel.” After a second, she added, “And it’s even less fun when a person isn’t smart enough to want to help himself.”

  His eyes locked with hers, as if in combat. Then, oddly, he gave a quick laugh and shook his head. He crossed the room to the gun cabinet, placed the rifle in the empty slot and locked the glass door.

  When he finished, he directed his attention to Maddy. “So, what’s your point?”

  It was a simple question. But now she wasn’t sure what her point was. She was no authority when it came to fixing people’s lives. She could barely pull her own together. “The point is that understanding when you need help and accepting it isn’t a bad thing.”

  “So, what makes you the expert?”

  “I’m no expert, but I’ve had some firsthand experience and my instincts are pretty good.”

  He studied her, his eyes seeming to warm as he did. Then he said softly, “Well, your instincts are off kilter this time, Madeline. So, please save your self-help therapy for someone who wants it.” Holding her gaze, he added even more softly, “Is that clear?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Crystal.”

  Even though he was essentially telling her to mind her own business, she sensed a change in his attitude toward her—as if they understood each other. She wondered if he felt it, too, and wanting to continue the conversation, she asked, “What’s with the gun?”

  He walked to the dresser and laid one hand on the top near the photos. “I got a message that some people were in trouble in the desert and went to see what I could do. I took the gun for protection.”

  He straightened. “Someone hit the panic button on one of the beacons.”

  “Beacon?”

  “Tall towers with solar lights, strategically placed in the desert to assist anyone who might be stranded.”

  “People trying to get into the country illegally?”

  He nodded. “Usually.”

  “What good is a light?”

  “If people are in trouble and see the beacon, they know to head toward it. Once there, all they need to do is hit the button to call for help. Instructions are printed in both English and Spanish.”

  “And if they’re illiterate?”

  “There are simple pictures, too. But people still die in the desert.” He closed his eyes for a second, as if remembering something.

  “You mean they die because they don’t want to alert the authorities?”

  He nodded and let out a long breath. “Right. Most of the time they come in groups and, while one person might want to push the panic button, others in the group resist and want to go on.”

  “I see.” But she wasn’t sure she really did. “So, why would you go when the authorities should be taking care of it?”

  “The authorities don’t always make it in time. If I get there with water before the authorities, I could save a life.”

  “And you need the gun for protection from the people you’re trying to save?”

  “No. From bandits and drug dealers.”

  What an admirable thing for him to do, she thought. But she was sure he wouldn’t want to hear that from her.

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this conversation between us.”

  She wanted to know more, but he abruptly picked up the photo on his right and said, “My parents.” He set it down and picked up the other photo. “And my grandparents.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” But she was happy that what she’d suspected all along was true. He wasn’t cold and unfeeling at all. He’d been upset about her unpacking the dress in the trunk because it was a symbol of something good for him, a memory of people he’d loved.

  “No big deal,” he said. “My family history is an open book in this town.” He leaned against the dresser, seeming more relaxed than before.

  Taking his cue, she rested a hand against one of the posts on his bed.

  “Do you have other family somewhere? Brothers or sisters?”

  He shook his head. “No. Aunt Ethel, my mother’s sister, was the last.”

  “Oh.” Maddy couldn’t imagine what it’d be like having no family at all. No wonder J.D. was such a loner. “I thought maybe she was your great-aunt because she was so much older.”

  “Seventeen years between my mother and Ethel. They weren’t close. I never met the lady until after my grandparents died and she inherited the ranch.” He paused a moment, then said, “I take that back, I was born here on the ranch and probably met her then. But we moved away when I was a baby. After Aunt Ethel inherited the place, she let it go to ruin. My grandparents would never have let it end up like this.”

  “But why wouldn’t she just sell it?”

  He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I was fifteen when my grandparents died. Aunt Ethel came back for the funeral and as my only living relative and guardian, immediately packed me off to school in Maryland. While she paid my bills, I never saw her again, never heard from her, or about her until her attorney contacted me after she died.”

  Kayla’s father. “Harold Martin? Is he the attorney who contacted you?”

  J.D. nodded and gave a curt laugh. “That’s the guy. He and I spent some quality time together before I came here.”

  “Really.” That was a surprise. So Mr. Martin had known a lot that he hadn’t told Maddy. But then, maybe it was all confidential client-attorney stuff. “Mr. Martin’s a nice man. I’ve known him since I was a little girl and he lived in Epiphany. He’s my best friend’s father and told me about this job back in June.” She stopped. “I guess I mentioned all that before, didn’t I?”

  “If you did, I didn’t make the connection.”

  “You weren’t exactly feeling well the day I arrived.”

  J.D. frowned. “It’s strange that he didn’t tell you about my aunt’s death since she died in July—two months before you came.”
>
  Maddy nodded “Yes, it is. And I’ve been trying to find out why ever since I arrived. But he’s overseas right now and hasn’t called me back.”

  J.D. came over and sat on the edge of the bed near her. “I have some questions of my own that need answering. I think I’ll give him a call, and if he responds I’ll hand him over to you when I’m done.”

  Maddy smiled. They’d agreed on something. Her adrenaline rushed and her pulse quickened. “Great,” she said, touching his shoulder. “It’s really nice of you to do that.”

  He glanced at her hand on his arm. Too familiar, she guessed, and took it away.

  “No big deal. I have business to talk over with him.”

  She’d made him uncomfortable. Or maybe he felt he’d said too much. Whatever the case, they’d shared a nice moment.

  He launched to his feet and started for the door. “C’mon.” He motioned to her. “No one’s working today, and Juana’s at one of those big Mexican-wedding shindigs, so we’re going to have to fend for ourselves for dinner.”

  They’d be alone—and she’d have another opportunity to get to know him better.

  “Can you cook?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Ramen noodles in college.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “HOW’S ZELDA?”

  Sitting at the kitchen table with J.D. after a dinner of leftovers, Maddy’s stomach dropped. She’d been so focused on discussing the renovation plans with J.D. tonight that she’d completely forgotten to check on Zelda. “I groomed her yesterday, gave her the vitamins and took her for a walk. I’m going to peek in on her again in a few minutes.”

  “Good.” J.D. got up from the table and carried the leftovers to the refrigerator. “I’m happy with the way things have worked out with you and Zelda. It’s one less thing for me to worry about.”

  “But you still work too much,” Maddy said. “A person has to take some time off now and then to maintain a balance.”

  He laughed. “The only balance I need is the kind that’ll keep me from falling off my ladder.”

  “I’m serious,” she said. “Everyone needs a break once in a while.” She got up, stacked the plates and brought them to the sink.

  “Everyone but me. And even if I was to take a break, there’s nothing to do in this one-horse town.”

  “Au contraire. There are all kinds of activities, including the festival next Saturday. I’m working a couple of the booths for an hour or so and helping out wherever I can. You should come. It’s going to be fun.”

  He walked to the sink, stopped by her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Fun for you. Not me.”

  His hand was warm and the warmth was sending messages to parts of her body that had been dormant for longer than she cared to admit.

  “Oh, I’ll bet you’d have a great time. There’s a parade, booths with food and crafts and games, face painting for the kids and bands playing music throughout the day. There’s even a dance in the evening.”

  J.D. reached up and lifted a strand of hair from her eyes. She was sweet, a truly caring person, and her presence had brought some brightness into his dark life. Each day he found himself looking forward more and more to seeing her. He liked her cheery smile and bubbly laugh. Hell, he even liked when she needled him. He felt more alive than he had in months and was suddenly meeting each day with new zest.

  “You could come and work the booth with me,” she said.

  She didn’t know. He figured she would’ve heard everything from the good ladies of Los Rios. But apparently not. Which didn’t change the fact that if he showed up at the festival, there’d be a black cloud hanging over everything. If he went, Maddy would know exactly what the townspeople thought of him, and he doubted she’d have any fun at all.

  “That might be your idea of excitement, but it’s not mine.”

  “Oh, you’d rather stay here and work?”

  “I’d rather get ahead with the job.”

  She pursed her lips. “A few hours off won’t make a big difference and everyone needs some playtime. You’ve heard the old adage, all work and no play makes—”

  “Makes me more likely to get the place finished by the deadline.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. “Didn’t you say you needed to check on Zelda?”

  Her big blues widened. “Yes, I’ll do that right now.” A second later, she was out the door and he felt no small amount of relief. He’d been only a millimeter away from agreeing to go with her.

  Which made no sense at all. The woman was only going to be here a few weeks. Still, she’d wormed her way into his unconscious, even at night in his dreams. He’d dreamed more than once about making love to Madeline Inglewood. Yeah, that was a laugh. A woman like her with a failure like him? A rich senator’s daughter with her whole future ahead of her and a cripple with no future? Who was he kidding? The only good thing about dreaming about her was that he’d had fewer nightmares about the accident.

  The reminder of his partner’s death twisted deep in his gut. He drew a long, hard breath. Whatever thoughts he might have about Maddy, they would remain exactly that. It didn’t pay to get close to anyone.

  He knew that as well as he knew his name.

  Because people always leave.

  One way or another.

  “ZELDA. Hey, pup, where are you?” It was dusk when Maddy slipped inside Zelda’s compound. This time her heart began its usual racing, her hands went clammy and her breath came short.

  The only occasion she hadn’t reacted was when she’d been in a hurry and thinking about something else. Maybe that was the solution. Don’t think about it.

  Which didn’t help her right now. But she continued forward toward Zelda’s house, anyway. She didn’t see the dog at all.

  Deciding Zelda was probably sleeping, she checked the food and water supply. Everything seemed to be in working order. No problem there.

  She started to walk away when it hit her—the food and water level hadn’t gone down. Which could only mean Zelda hadn’t eaten all day.

  Panic seized Maddy’s chest. She dashed to the doghouse and bent to look inside. Zelda lay listlessly in almost the same position as this morning.

  “Hey, girl. What’s going on here?”

  The familiar wagging tail didn’t move.

  “What’s wrong, pup? How come you’re not eating?” She remembered J.D.’s words about the dog being easily traumatized, yet didn’t know of anything that had happened to make her feel that way. But then, she hadn’t been there since morning. J.D. had. Maybe he’d know what was going on.

  “C’mon, sweetheart,” she tried again, kneeling in front of the door so Zelda could see her. “C’mon out here and let’s get some dinner. Yummy, yummy. Great stuff.”

  Nothing. In fact, the dog actually looked away, ignoring Maddy altogether. Maddy’s stomach dropped. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Zelda had responded to her from the beginning, even when Maddy was scared to death of her. It was almost as if the dog had sensed Maddy’s fear and was trying to make her more comfortable.

  Which was ridiculous. Dogs didn’t think, did they? She looked at Zelda again, at her big eyes that seemed to reflect a sadness Maddy hadn’t noticed before. Maybe she did have thoughts and emotions? Once again Maddy wondered whether maybe Zelda was lonely.

  Whatever the case, she had to tell J.D. and find out what to do about it. Maddy’s heart sank to her toes. J.D. had asked her to do one little thing and she’d screwed it up.

  She closed her eyes. What should she have done differently? She hadn’t spent a lot of time with Zelda, but she’d done most of what was on the list. Other than that, nothing came to mind. She wasn’t a dog person and had no experience with them.

  “C’mon, Zelda. Come see me.” Maddy patted her thighs.

  With no response, Maddy got up and headed for the house, her steps heavy with dread. As much as she was worried about Zelda, she was worried about what J.D. wo
uld think. He’d trusted her, given her a responsibility and expected her to carry it out. And she hadn’t.

  Inside in the kitchen, the radio was playing, and J.D. was standing on a stool removing a cabinet door. He glanced up, his eyes bright when he saw her. “Hey,” he said with a big smile.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “It’ll be easier for you to strip the wood if the doors are off.

  “Good thinking.”

  “How’s Zelda?”

  “Well…I’m not sure.”

  He stopped what he was doing. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I don’t know.” She shifted her feet. “I haven’t been around dogs very much and I can’t tell if her listlessness is because something’s wrong or if that’s normal sometimes.”

  “What about her food?”

  “It’s still there from this morning.”

  At that, he dropped his screwdriver on the counter, stepped down from the stool and strode outside.

  Maddy followed on his heels, hoping the dog’s lethargy was just a normal thing. But she had an ominous feeling.

  When J.D. got to the doghouse, he fell to his knees and stretched both arms inside. Maddy knelt next to him. A moment later, cradling a listless Zelda in his arms, he turned to Maddy.

  He blamed her. She saw it in his eyes.

  “She needs a vet.”

  “Is she sick? How can you tell?”

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. “I can’t. But I think we need to find out what’s wrong as soon as possible. To do that I’ve got to take her to Yuma to the vet.” He looked off, at the setting sun, a golden glow of burnt sienna on the horizon. “I’ll have to go in the morning.”

  “Tomorrow is Sunday. Are they open on Sunday?”

  He shook his head. “I doubt it.”

  “Not even in an emergency? She could get worse.”

  “Maybe. Damn. Even if I can get someone to see her, I can’t afford to lose another day’s work.” He rubbed Zelda behind the ears, cooing at her as he did.

  Oh, God. He was going to lose a day’s work and it was her fault. She should’ve checked on Zelda earlier, made sure she was eating.