What Madeline Wants
Page 24
Which brings me to this letter. This is not an apology as such, but more of an explanation. I wasn’t much of an aunt or guardian. I have no excuse for that except to tell you that I was very self-centered as a girl and, indeed, for most of my adult life. In fact, this letter is probably my way of trying to atone and assuage my guilt over some of the things I’ve done. I’ve hurt other people, in particular, you, your mother and your father.
I don’t expect your forgiveness. I simply need to get this off my chest before I die. Your mother was a beautiful woman and a wonderful sister. I destroyed whatever relationship we had. Your father was an intelligent, hardworking man, and of course, he was extremely handsome. I was in love with him, and as the whole town knows, he chose to marry my sister. I was a vindictive girl and tried to change that.
The fire wasn’t your father’s fault. It was mine. In my jealousy, I imagined that if your father had to leave the ranch in disgrace, Rebecca wouldn’t go with him and that would leave the field open for me. C.J., Charlie Jr., and I had been very close since we were kids, and he agreed to help me spread a story about your father siphoning Tripplehorne funds, and the fire was supposed to be his cover-up. Unfortunately, the fire got out of hand, and C.J. and a hired hand who was sleeping in the barn, died as a result. I never intended for anyone to die. I regret that more than anyone can know.
When your father was arrested, I went to Charlie Masterson and told him what C.J. and I had done, but he wasn’t about to have the Masterson name dragged through the mud. He also accused me of lying because I was in love with Raphael. Your father had been beaten badly for resisting arrest and was thrown in jail. At that point, I did the only thing I could. I knew Tom Collier was sweet on me, so I told him I’d move in with him if he allowed your father to escape.
But after a while, I couldn’t live in Los Rios anymore. I couldn’t face any of it. And when I inherited the ranch, I couldn’t face you.
So, there you have my pitiful story. Nothing can absolve me of my guilt, nothing will bring back your parents or give you the childhood you would’ve had if they hadn’t died. But maybe you will get some peace of mind knowing your father had nothing to do with the fire.
By the time you read this, I will have been gone for quite some time. Only Harold Martin knows the story of my “accident” and after you read this, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it if you really want to know. I’m not very proud of it, but then I’m not proud of much of my life. Bottom line is that I’m not brave enough to wait around for a horrible painful death to take me, either.
I hope you’ll find it in your heart to continue to take care of my Zelda, even after the year designated in the will. Though I can’t blame you if you don’t. That will be up to you. There are no more stipulations, but my hope is that you’ll keep the ranch in the family and pass it down to your own children.
My parents—your grandparents—would want it that way.
I’ve enclosed the photos and a few small memories I had of your mother and father and hope they’ll mean as much to you as they did to me.
Maddy dabbed at a tear in her eye. “That confession must have been very hard for her to write.”
J.D. slid the letter back into the envelope and picked up the photos, most of which were of his mother and father and him as a baby. “I don’t have a single picture of us together.” His hands shook as he lifted the next item. It was a folded hankie with his mother’s name embroidered on it, and inside, her wedding ring.
“Oh, God,” he said, burying his face in Maddy’s hair. One low wrenching sob escaped and he crushed her in a bear hug.
She held him and after a moment, she said softly, “Maybe we should cancel the plans for today.”
He lifted his head in surprise. “Not a chance.”
Then he took her hand in his and placed the ring on her finger. “I believe this goes with the dress you’re going to wear.”
Now it was her turn for tears—tears of happiness.
ISBN: 978 1 472 02651 4
WHAT MADELINE WANTS
© 2003 by Linda Style
First Published in Great Britain in 2003
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