What Madeline Wants

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What Madeline Wants Page 18

by Linda Style


  If he had a life.

  But he didn’t, so he’d go about his business and wish her the best when she left. His stomach felt hollow every time he thought about what it would be like when she was gone—when he was alone again.

  THE NEXT MORNING, J.D. awoke to the robust scent of coffee and voices and loud banging. He checked the clock. Man, he’d overslept. Still, it wasn’t even six. He got up and peered out the window.

  Carlos was outside with two other men J.D. didn’t recognize. Maddy was out there, too, handing coffee cups to all of them. He brushed his teeth, took a quick shower and then, barely passing a towel across his body, put on a pair of jeans and went outside.

  “Would someone mind telling me what’s going on?”

  Maddy’s eyes lit up when she saw him and she smiled. “Yes. I mean no, I wouldn’t mind telling you—as soon as I find out myself.”

  She spoke to Carlos in Spanish and he responded. Then she looked at the two men, smiled and nodded before turning back to J.D. “They both like their coffee black.”

  “That’s what you asked? I want to know what they’re doing here.”

  “They’re here to work for you.”

  “I didn’t hire anyone.” But he did need help, and if these guys knew what they were doing… “What skills do they have?”

  Maddy spoke to Carlos again. “They’re carpenters. This is Jésus—” she motioned to the older man “—and this is his son, Daniel. Carlos told them you might be hiring and that they should come and talk to you.”

  J.D. shook hands with both men. “Does either one speak English?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “I guess I’d need to see the quality of their work.”

  Just then a red pickup pulled into the driveway. Grady’s truck, but Annie was at the wheel.

  “Gotta go,” Maddy said, hustling over to the truck. She opened the door, stepped up on the lift and turned to J.D. “You oughta come. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

  She gave a wide white smile that showed her dimples, and right before she pulled the door shut, she added, “Unless you’re chicken.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  STANDING ON THE CURB in front of the Sunflower Café, Maddy glanced up at the flapping red, white and blue banner spanning Los Rios’s Main Street, announcing September Day, the annual arts and crafts festival. Booths filled with food and all manner of homemade items and trinkets made by the Los Rios Ladies’ Club lined both sides of the street, which was still littered with the remains of the parade an hour before.

  She checked the time. Five-thirty and still no J.D. She’d watched for him all day and now her hope was waning.

  With his military background, he might’ve liked the parade. The high-school band had played snappy patriotic songs, the majorettes twirled their batons and the cheerleaders did zis-boom-bahs and dazzled the spectators by doing cartwheels down the entire two blocks that made up Main Street.

  The only float in the parade was from Masterson’s, a mock-up of the old brick building. The boy and girl sitting atop the float and waving like crazy wore banners proclaiming them Homecoming King and Queen of Los Rios High.

  The little town was so like Epiphany, it made Maddy a bit homesick. She loved Epiphany and its people. She just didn’t want to spend her whole life there.

  She stepped off the curb and headed to a craft booth in the center of the block to relieve a woman named Gladys. Maddy had manned three booths already today, Mariela’s, to get her started, the red-hot-chili booth and another that sold homemade pastries.

  “Hi. I’m the relief squad,” Maddy said on reaching the booth. The woman standing behind the counter stared blankly at her.

  Maddy smiled and extended a hand. “I’m Madeline Inglewood. Annie sent me to spell you for a while.”

  Gladys, a woman in her mid-sixties or thereabouts, gave her a solid handshake. “So you’re the one.”

  Maddy looked around. “The one?”

  “The one staying out there at the Devereaux place.”

  “Oh. Yes. I was hired to teach the staff English.”

  The woman motioned for Maddy to go around the booth and come inside. “I’ll show you what to do when someone wants to make a purchase,” Gladys said as Maddy entered.

  “Okay. That way I won’t make any mistakes,” Maddy said cheerily. The woman was trying to be helpful. No reason to tell her Maddy had done this before—in Epiphany more times than she cared to remember.

  “He looks just like his father.”

  It took a few seconds before Maddy realized that Gladys was talking about J.D.

  “Very much so, though I’ve only seen a photograph,” Maddy replied.

  “What a shame Raphael died so young and in such an awful way.” The woman’s voice held a note of both sadness and nostalgia.

  “Awful? How did it happen?”

  Ignoring the question, Gladys went on. “Powerful good-looking that man was. Powerful. All the women in town were after him.”

  “Really?” Intrigued, Maddy encouraged her. “Including you?”

  Gladys, a solidly built woman with silver-streaked dark hair, laughed and clasped her hands behind her back.

  “Yes, even me. That man had the ability to mesmerize everyone who met him—especially women. But some people in town didn’t cotton to that.”

  “So did they heave a sigh of relief when he got married?”

  The woman shook her head. “Not at all. That marriage had the old guard up in arms. They thought it a disgrace that a field hand would marry into one of the oldest families in town.”

  Just then, two teenage girls stepped up to the booth. One of them plucked up a hand-crocheted doily and plopped it on her head like a hat.

  “Touch it for more than five seconds and you buy it!” Gladys said with the authority of a drill sergeant.

  “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Hackert,” the girl said, jumping back as if she’d been stung by a wasp and replacing the doily at the same time.

  When the two girls left, Gladys said, “Well, dear. I think you can handle the booth now.”

  Maddy couldn’t let her leave yet. She wanted to hear more about Raphael Rivera. “So, how did the story end?”

  Gladys looked pensive, as if deciding whether to say more or not. Then she said, “Bad things can happen in the best of families. Envy. Jealousy. Some people never forget.”

  Maddy nodded, hoping Gladys would continue. “Do you mean the Devereaux family didn’t want their daughter to marry a field worker?” she asked.

  Gladys shook her head vehemently. “Robert and Mary Devereaux adored Raphael. He worked hard for them, and within a year, he went from pizcador to manager of the ranch. It was Ethel who was the jealous one—jealous of her younger sister from the day the girl was born. Some of us believed she was involved in the whole mess.”

  “The whole mess?”

  “Hi.” A deep, familiar voice came from the side.

  Maddy swung around. Her heart skipped a beat. “J.D.” She couldn’t help the wide smile that formed. “You’re here.”

  Then, remembering her manners and the woman at her side, Maddy motioned to Gladys. “J.D., this is Gladys Hackert.”

  He smiled. “Hello, Ms. Hackert. It’s nice to see you again.”

  “Hello, James. I hope you’ve learned to control that temper of yours.”

  “Yes, ma’am. First thing I learned after leaving Los Rios. The military has a way of putting a guy in his place. Just like some sixth-grade teachers.” He grinned.

  Gladys smiled at J.D., and Maddy thought she saw a warm gleam in the woman’s eyes as she looked at him.

  “Well,” she said abruptly. “It’s time for me to go.” Gladys flung open the canvas in the back of the booth, and on her way out she said to Maddy, “Remember what I said, dear.”

  Gladys had said a lot of things and Maddy didn’t know which of them she was referring to. But then the woman was gone and so was the opportunity to ask. Maddy gave J.D. a puzz
led look and shrugged. “I should’ve known she was a teacher from the way she handled a couple of teenagers who came up to the booth. But I don’t have a clue what she wants me to remember.”

  He winked. “It’s probably better that way.”

  Her stomach fluttered. She felt like a teenager herself, all flustered and coy.

  “I don’t know about that.” What Gladys had told her about J.D.’s father intrigued her and she wanted to know more. What had happened to J.D.’s parents? How had his father died and what was the “mess” that Gladys and others suspected Ethel Devereaux might’ve been involved in? But asking J.D. probably wouldn’t win her any points tonight.

  “So, now that I’m here, what would you like me to do?”

  As he spoke, Maddy saw the heads of several passersby turn in their direction, and within seconds she felt as if all eyes were upon them. She was glad J.D. had his back to the street so he couldn’t see them—he wouldn’t like being the center of attention.

  “I want you to have fun, of course. I’ll be done here in a half hour, so if you’d like, you can come in and keep me company.”

  He did a Groucho with his eyebrows. “Best invitation I’ve had all day.”

  He came around and inside. He smelled of sandalwood, a scent she hadn’t noticed on him before, and suddenly the booth seemed smaller, the air thicker. Wearing a crisp white cotton shirt, open halfway down his chest, sleeves rolled to his forearms, faded jeans and boots, the man took her breath away.

  J.D. THOUGHT HE SAW Maddy’s face flush a little at his remark, but she didn’t respond. Not wanting to be on display, he sat on a chair in the back corner of the booth. As he did, he saw a group of teenagers gawking as they went by. Just what he’d expected. God only knows why he’d showed up at all.

  The festival hadn’t changed a whole lot since he was a kid, either. Giant date palms lined both blocks on Main Street, four on each side, and all were lit up with tiny blinking holiday lights, which would be left on until after the new year. On the far end of the street was a raised plywood podium with Chinese lanterns lighting a stage where a mariachi band was already warming up. A wooden square on the ground in front of the band served as the dance floor and some little kids were already testing it.

  With the music in the background, a festive energy filled the air. Small pockets of people chatted with each other, some were laughing and drinking beer, others eating Indian fry bread and the spicy hot chili he remembered well.

  He watched Maddy, her bright smile engaging everyone who passed by. Her face seemed to glow with happiness and her ease with people surprised him. It shouldn’t, he realized. She was used to this, she’d grown up in a small town and being friendly came naturally to her.

  Even so, there was something different about her tonight. She was more exuberant. Her hair seemed blonder, her skin a little more golden. Wearing a purplish tank top, a matching skirt with a fringed scarf knotted at her hips, narrow black flip-flops that showed off pink-painted toenails, she was…beautiful. And sexy. Very sexy.

  He felt a sudden pride and satisfaction that she was there with him. Hell, all those gawkers weren’t interested in him, they were looking at her. He almost laughed.

  The thought was liberating, and for the first time in two years, he was eager to enjoy the evening.

  “Hey, beautiful,” a male voice came from outside the booth. Sitting in the back, J.D. couldn’t see who it was, but he recognized the voice. Grady sauntered over with Annie at his side. When he saw J.D., his eyes went wide. “Well, lookee who’s here. Hey, buddy.”

  J.D. came forward. “Want to buy a doily?”

  They all laughed at that, and then Annie said to Maddy, “Mariela’s booth is lovely and her clothes are beautiful. I bought a skirt and scarf.”

  “Oh, let me see,” Maddy said, and Annie pulled out a yellow gauzy piece of fabric from a brown paper bag.

  “That was a great idea you had, getting her set up with a booth,” Annie said. “She should’ve done it long ago. She’s been here in Los Rios for three or four years and—”

  “Hey,” Grady interrupted. “Enough yammering about clothes. Let’s get to the important stuff. Food. I’m starving.”

  Annie said to Maddy. “How long are you chained to the booth?”

  “Fifteen more minutes.”

  “Well, why don’t you two join us at the chili booth when you’re finished.”

  They all turned to look at J.D. He shrugged. “Sure. Why not.” When Grady and Annie left, he asked, “So, what’s the deal with Mariela?”

  Maddy pursed her lips. “It’s nothing really.”

  “It’s something.”

  “Well, Mariela makes these beautiful clothes—” she pulled at her skirt “—and I suggested she take a booth and sell them here at the fair. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?”

  Maddy rubbed her arms. “Well, I helped her fill out the application, and Annie made a deal with the Ladies’ Club to allow her to pay for the booth from her profits.”

  “Nice of you, but you shouldn’t have involved Annie.”

  She seemed surprised at his comment. “Why not? In fact, I was hoping to do more, maybe generate some interest within the ladies’ group for a project to fix up the area where the migrant workers live, and maybe find some way to provide day care for the small children while their parents are at work. And from what I’ve heard, English lessons would be beneficial to most of them.”

  “I don’t think you’ll find much interest—people in this town don’t like change.”

  “Well, I believe you’re mistaken. The ladies’ club was more than happy to help Mariela.”

  “That was a one-shot deal. The other stuff you’re talking about hits them in their pockets, and some people in this town don’t take kindly to outsiders poking into their business.”

  “What do you mean? Are you saying something bad might happen?”

  He shrugged. “It’s happened before. But aside from that, think about what it’ll be like when you leave in a few weeks. Everything will fall apart.”

  “Annie will be here. And if we get some support from the community—”

  “Dammit, Maddy. It isn’t as easy as all that. I know. I’ve seen what this town can do to people who…” His blood pressure rose like a rocket at the memories. He stopped to breathe. She’d never understand. She couldn’t possibly. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I don’t want to see Annie and Grady have problems either.”

  “Why would they?”

  “Trust me. If they support you on a project not sanctioned by the Big Three, they’d have problems.”

  “The Big Three?”

  He signaled behind her to where the sheriff, Mayor Sikes and old man Masterson were holding court.

  She glanced at the men. “I’ve met the sheriff, and I saw the mayor this morning when he gave a speech, but who’s the other guy?”

  “Charlie Masterson. He owns the town and has since my grandparents moved here. He’s got the others under his thumb. If any one of them has it in for you, you’re dead meat.”

  As if on cue, the three looked at J.D. and Maddy. Charlie Masterson scowled, then said something to Collier, who placed a hand on his gun. Then both the mayor and the sheriff nodded.

  Maddy frowned, looking confused.

  She didn’t understand. She wouldn’t unless she’d grown up here. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, but he felt the need to warn her before she went off doing things she might regret. Or others might regret.

  “So think about it. When you leave, Grady and Annie will still be here to take the flak.”

  Maddy’s expression softened. “I wouldn’t want that. But I don’t understand why people wouldn’t want to make the town better for all its citizens. If everyone did a little something, there wouldn’t be a problem. Even you—you could help.”

  A wry laugh escaped his lips. “Hell, I can’t even buy lumber from the people in this town. I can’t even help myself.”
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br />   She frowned. “Do you care what happens to the migrant workers?”

  He closed his eyes and drew a long breath. Then as calmly and as evenly as he could manage, he said, “Of course I do. But right now, all I have time to care about is the ranch. If I don’t get the work done by the deadline, it won’t matter what I feel about anything.”

  Maddy shifted her weight to one side. He had a point. Who was she to think she could breeze into town and suggest major changes to people who’d lived here all their lives. But doing nothing didn’t seem right, either. “I’d forgotten about the deadline, and I can see how that prevents you from doing much at this time. But maybe when the renovations are finished?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But right now, I’d like to get out of this booth. I’m getting claustrophobic.”

  At that moment, a young woman who appeared to be in her twenties came over. “Hi. I’m Anita, your replacement.” The girl was talking to Maddy, but her big brown eyes were fixed adoringly on J.D.

  “Great,” Maddy said, and feeling a sudden possessiveness, she took J.D.’s arm and led him out the back of the booth. “C’mon, I’m starving, too.”

  As they left Maddy heard a commotion down the block and when she glanced up, she saw the sheriff standing at Mariela’s booth. And the poor woman looked scared to death! “Wait a second.” She tugged on J.D.’s arm. “I need to see what’s happening at Mariela’s.”

  Maddy bolted down the street, and as she reached the booth the sheriff was fiddling with his handcuffs, as if ready to make an arrest.

  “Qué pasa?” she asked Mariela quietly.

  Mariela leaned toward Maddy. “He asked me what I was doing here. And when I told him, he asked to see my work permit and I can’t find it. Now he says he’s going to take me in, and what will I do about the children?” Panic shone in her eyes.

  “Do you have a work permit?” Maddy asked. They spoke in Spanish, but Maddy was sure the sheriff understood.

  Mariela nodded, frantically searching her bags.

  “Well, I don’t see it,” the sheriff said, clicking his handcuffs together. “No work permit, no work.”

 

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