by Barbara Mack
Kathleen made a small noise of frustration in her throat, and all but stamped her foot at the big man. She would fool him, she thought, and a small smile creased her mouth at the thought. She would let her parents know that he was coming; she would send Tommy over with that message, and to tell them at the same time that she was spending the night here in order to visit with Joanne and Ronald. She could borrow something to wear to sleep in from Maggie or Joanne, and she would just give today’s clothing a good brushing out; it would do until she could go home tomorrow morning and get fresh, clean clothing. Her mother would be mad enough to spit, but she could fawn all over the irritating man without her presence just as well as she could with it.
Duncan made Kathleen a small bow from the saddle and tipped his hat. His gaze swept to Maggie and his expression warmed subtly, his white teeth flashing a sincere smile at her. Kathleen felt somehow piqued by that. “Maggie, it is good to see you,” he called. “I checked on those fox kittens yesterday, and you will be glad to know that they are doing well. They are nearly grown now, or they think that they are.”
Maggie laughed, and said that she would have to get out there and see them soon, before it snowed them all in. Duncan’s eye fell on the stony-faced Nick and he decided that he had worn out his welcome.
He wheeled his horse around and set off at a sedate walk. Maggie lifted a hand in farewell. Three pairs of female eyes watched him leave the property, all with a different emotion in their depths; one pair resentful, one definitely appreciative of his male beauty, and the other filled with warm affection.
Nick called out to Maggie. “Come down and meet my cousins, Maggie!” She walked over to them somewhat reluctantly, nervously smoothing her hair, and offered her hand to Joanne, who grasped it in both of hers and smiled beatifically.
“Kathleen has written me all about you,” she said warmly. “I feel as if we already know each other.”
“And I, too,” said Ronald. “Though after seeing you in person, I would prefer to know you much better.” He winked at her outrageously, and Maggie laughed. The two siblings were alike as peas in a pod; healthy, handsome specimens both possessing silky smooth black hair, white skin, and eyes that were a dark, startling blue up close, though Ronald’s feature were a bit coarser and more masculine than his sister’s were. Kathleen pinched the skin covering his ribs, and he yelped and winced away.
“Stop that flirting, Ronald,” she said severely. “You will scare her. She does not know you are a great big windbag like I do.”
“You are so good for my ego, Kathleen,” he said to the diminutive blond. “I am happy to realize after all these years what your opinion of me is. A great big windbag.”
He scowled at her. “And I am wounded, if you had not noticed. I could use some sympathy. I slipped on the paved path in the garden the day before we left Boston. Spent the whole trip in agony, both from the arm and from being trapped in close quarters for weeks with Joanne. Have a care with me, now.” Kathleen smirked at him.
Joanne linked her arm through Maggie’s and started to stroll toward the house.
“Ignore them,” she said. “They are like a couple of children. Tell me, do you have a pot of coffee going in the kitchen? I am near to frozen, and I am dying to sit before a fire. Hurry up and get my bags, Nick,” she called over her shoulder. “You would not want me to start telling terrible stories about you without you there to defend yourself, now would you?”
“You would not happen to have any food in there, would you?” called Ronald after them. “Joanne has near starved me to death on the way here. She thinks that because she does not need to do it that often, eating must be a waste of valuable time. I vow, I have gone down to skin and bone on this trip. It is a good thing that it did not take any longer to get here. A few more days and I might have expired of hunger.”
“I had a devil of a time getting us here, let me tell you. I thought at first we could get passage on a ship and then come the rest of the way overland, but that was not to be. We traveled the entire way by land, and it has been a long trip, let me tell you. The coachman did nothing but whine and complain, and when he fell ill I thought at first that he must be feigning it just to get out of the journey. Because you know he did not want to bring us at first, but I told him that I simply must get to Missouri, and eventually he changed his mind. Ronald was no use at all once the coachman became ill, because of the broken arm, you see, and I had to do simply everything.” Joanne stopped and smiled at Maggie.
“Listen to me chatter on. It is just because I have not had a woman to talk to in weeks. I was surrounded by men whose sole purpose in life, it seems, is to keep me from doing what I want, and I declare I do not know why I just have not gone right ‘round the bend. But now that I’m here, with some acceptable company,” and she threw a speaking glance at her twin as she said the last two words, “I am sure that I will feel much better in no time at all."
Maggie found herself laughing helplessly as they all settled comfortably before the fire. This outrageous woman had a way of getting everyone to do exactly as she wanted so smoothly that you almost did not realize that you had been cleverly manipulated. There was no malice in Joanne, though, and Maggie could not help but like her and Ronald. They were amusing companions, the twins were, and they all laughed so hard over their coffee–and the cookies that Kathleen had unearthed for Ronald–that Maggie’s stomach actually ached.
Joanne leaned forward and touched the brooch that Maggie wore on the collar of her dress. "What a lovely brooch," she exclaimed. "May I see it?"
Maggie unfastened the pin and handed it to her. Joanne turned it over in her hands, examining the signature closely.
"This was painted by Suisan O’Roarke, is it not? I recognize the signature," Joanne said crisply. "This is probably quite valuable. The art world lost a great painter when she died. She was from Boston originally, you know, before she moved to St. Louis. I believe the stableman here, Ned, was her brother-in-law. That is how our association with her came about; our mother saw one of the oils hanging in the dining room and commissioned a portrait through Ned. She traveled all the way back to Boston and stayed with us for an entire month, do you remember, Ronald?" She turned her bright eyes upon her cousin. "You remember seeing it, do you not, Nick? It is hanging in Mother’s sitting room, above the sofa. We were about ten when she painted us, and Mrs. O’Roarke got us just right. You can almost see Ronald thinking about reaching out and pulling my braid."
Maggie felt a terrible fear strike her heart. If Joanne and Ronald knew her mother, had they discovered the terrible secret that Suisan O’Roarke’s daughter carried in her heart? She shuddered, and felt her head spin. She could feel the color practically draining from her face, and she reached for her cup of coffee to hide her expression from them all. She tried without success to still her trembling fingers. What a horrible coincidence.
"That is serendipity for you, Joanne. Suisan O’Roarke was Maggie’s mother," Nick told his cousin.
Joanne slowly raised one eyebrow, and handed the brooch back to Maggie. "Oh?" she said, her gaze turning speculative, her eyes holding Maggie’s until she stirred uneasily in her overstuffed chair and hid her face in her coffee cup again. "I thought that Suisan O’Roarke’s daughter had married," she said. "That is what I had heard, in any event, about a year after her death."
"I am a widow," Maggie said, fighting to stay calm, her spine ramrod straight and her shoulders back. Show nothing, she warned herself. Do not let her see that these questions make you nervous. Kathleen caught her eye and gave her an encouraging smile. Maggie took heart from the fact that Kathleen would support her, no matter what happened. She took a deep breath and went on. "I was married for a little less than three years. When my husband died, I came to be near my Uncle Ned, who is the only family I have left."
Nick, being somewhat perceptive, sensed something amiss in the stilted conversation between the two and his eyes flicked back and forth between them, his black brows drawing
together in a frown.
"That is interesting," Joanne said, her perceptive gaze probing deeply. Maggie felt a shiver run down her spine, but she held Joanne’s gaze steadily. Finally, Joanne seemed to come to some conclusion that no one else was privy to. "She was quite famous, you know, and extremely talented,” she said smoothly. "You must be very proud. Her paintings are simply wonderful, as I am sure that you know. Nick, did not you tell me once that the painting of hers in the dining room is your very favorite?"
"Yes, it is," Nick said warmly. "It is a rendering of the Mississippi river, and so lifelike that you feel as if your hand would get wet if you reached out to touch the water."
Joanne smiled then and began to ask Kathleen about various members of her family, and Maggie let out the breath that she had not realized she had been holding. The frown line between Nick’s eyes gradually disappeared. He had no idea what that was all about, and as secretive as Joanne was, chances were that he never would. Whatever it was, it was over now. No sense worrying about it.
“So, cousin, you still have not said what brings you here,” Nick finally prodded, still bright red after several recounted stories of his misspent youth.
Joanne glowed. She bent forward and grasped his hand. “We are going to stay right through the holidays,” she cried. “You will never guess . . . Mother’s getting remarried! She met him at one of the poetry readings that she is always going to. Axel, that is her fiancée, is the cousin of some obscure poet that she admires tremendously. He owns a string of dress shops in Boston, Axel, that is, not the poet, and I am sure you can imagine Mother caused quite a scandal when she announced their impending nuptials!" A dimple popped up in one cheek as her smile widened.
"But she does not care. She has told me that she never expected to marry again, and that she does not give a fig for anyone’s opinion of Axel except her own. Axel wanted to take her to visit his family in St. Louis, get married there and stay through Christmas and the New Year, but Ronald and I did not want to spend the entire winter with total strangers. Axel is German, and he let it be known that most of his relatives do not speak English and we do not speak German, so we gave Mother our blessing and decided to come and see you. We thought it the perfect solution, do you not agree? Axel, who is a perfect dear, seemed very much relieved that we were not staying with them, to tell the truth. He is some years younger than Mother, though she does not look older, of course. I do not think that he relished explaining her grown children to his parents, and without us there, he will not have to.”
Nick agreed that it was indeed the perfect solution to their holiday dilemma, but his eyes flew to Maggie, who stayed perfectly expressionless. Both of them wondered what this would mean to their situation, and Maggie had a sinking feeling in her stomach. How could she carry on openly with Nick while his cousins were here? They had not hidden their relationship from Kathleen, and Ned, and Tommy, it was true, but they had been discreet, and Kathleen was the only one who knew for sure what was going on. The other two only speculated, but it was going to be impossible to keep it a secret with two more people in the house.
The instant that the thought hit her mind, Maggie was overcome with shame for her selfishness. She should be glad for Nick. She knew that he loved his cousins and had missed them dreadfully, and there was nothing better than spending the holidays with your loved ones and nothing more heart-wrenching than spending them alone. Still, her smile was bittersweet as she agreed that it was a lovely thing, sure to be so much fun . . .
Joanne prattled on about sleigh rides and stringing cranberries and popcorn for a tree, not to mention helping make a whole, traditional Thanksgiving dinner. She never noticed anything wrong, or at least pretended that she did not. But Ronald’s sharp eyes bounced from Maggie to Nick and back again. He raised a questioning brow at Kathleen, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
Ah, so that is the way of it, he thought. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, a small smile creasing his mouth. Nick deserved some happiness at long last, and he just hoped that they were not putting a crimp in his plans with an untimely visit.
Kathleen spent some time grumbling about her terrible mother and her efforts at matchmaking, and about stupid doctors who were much too handsome for their own good and had a dubious sense of humor. And, she said, she was certainly happy about staying here tonight, for more than one reason.
But Nick was distinctly unhappy later on that evening when Maggie pulled him into the kitchen.
She jumped away when he tried to put his arms around her, glancing nervously at the door as if expecting it to come flying open at any time . . . and it might, Nick thought grimly. His cousin Joanne, much as he dearly loved her, had been flitting from one end of the house to the other all day, not giving him a minute alone with Maggie.
“No,” she hissed at him now. “I am not going to be sneaking around with you while your family is here. It is not right, and I will not do it.”
“Not the whole time that they are here?” he asked slowly. “Maggie, that could be months. They are talking about staying until the end of January.”
She turned her back on him resolutely. “I know.” She wanted to cry, or scream, but she did neither, just stood there while misery streamed through every particle of her being. Touch me, she begged silently. Swear that you cannot live without me, and I will change my mind. Tell me that you love me. Tell me, and I will be your lover flagrantly, no matter who disapproves.
Nick said none of those things, however, just stood behind her silently.
“I see,” he said, and she could read nothing from the tone of his voice. It held no pain, no pleasure, no emotion at all, just an empty politeness that echoed frigidly through Maggie’s soul. “If this is what you have decided, I will of course abide by your wishes.”
He turned and left, leaving Maggie alone in the kitchen. His remoteness frightened her as much as her sudden pain did, and she swayed dizzily and caught at the edge of the wooden counter.
She mustn’t fall. There was no one here to catch her if she fell, she thought bleakly. No one.
No one at all.
NINE
Maggie scrubbed half-heartedly at the burnt mess in the bottom of the heavy, cast iron skillet, her mind far away. This week had been pure misery for her, what with Nick’s coldness and her trying to pretend that everything was all right. Kathleen, for once, had not noticed Maggie’s despondent mood. She was too caught up in her excitement over Joanne and Ronald’s visit. She had not seen them in person for more than five years, though they corresponded regularly by post, and she was ecstatic, as was the rest of her family. Kathleen’s mother and father and brothers and sisters had been trooping in and out of the house so much that she had taken to making up two spare bedrooms each night just in case some of them wanted to stay.
And stay they did, all of them getting in at least one overnight visit, raucous and laughing and happy at seeing Joanne and Ronald again. Jenny had stayed for a rollicking three days, along with her wild three-year-old son, Clem. Jenny laughingly described him as ‘a little spoiled’, but that did not begin to depict his character. Kathleen had sworn, dodging Jenny’s swats and laughing, that she was afraid to make Clem take off the battered hat he wore for fear of seeing horns growing underneath. The only time he behaved well was when his grandmother was present; all that fierce lady had to do was raise one eyebrow and Clem became an instant angel. Unfortunately, she had not stayed through the whole of Clem’s visit, and no one else had her ability to subdue him.
Clem had chased Tommy’s poor cat through the stables until it was panting with exertion and an irate Ned banned him from the premises; while racing through the house pretending to ride a horse, he had toppled and broken a vase in the dining room, a pitcher off the counter in the kitchen, and a bowl of hard candies in the parlor (the contents of which he crammed into his mouth and his pockets, respectively); he secreted himself in the pantry and stuffed himself with the sweets that Kathleen had sp
ent days making in preparation for Thanksgiving and then was promptly sick all over the floor.
And that was only the first day of his visit. They had all breathed a sigh of relief when Jenny and her little hellion had gone home.
Maggie did not want to spoil this visit for Kathleen; so she did her best to act as if she was just as happy as the rest of them all were. So far, none of her friends had questioned her about it, so she supposed that they had not noticed anything amiss.
But Joanne had noticed.
Maggie was sure of it.
After that first night, Joanne had not broached the subject of Maggie’s mother again. But Maggie sometimes turned around suddenly and found Joanne watching her thoughtfully, one finger tapping at the corner of her mouth. Oh, she always smiled and had some excuse for standing there, but she made Maggie uneasy. She had dreamed of David every night this week, waking terrified and unable to sleep for the rest of the long, long night, her arms aching for Nick. Her sleepless nights were beginning to tell on her face. Dark shadows circled her eyes, and she was too pale. She had already caught Ned looking thoughtfully at her once or twice, and Maggie knew that she could not keep her torn nerves hidden much longer.
Maggie bit her lip, hot tears scalding her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously and refused to let them fall.
Joanne knew something, and Maggie was very much afraid that she was going to have to leave her comfortable life here. She was going to be forced to flee this haven of warmth and love that she had found. It would take her fewer than five minutes to fill the valise and ready her things to leave. But it would take her the rest of her life to get over losing the people in this household.
And her heart was breaking because of it.
"I’d like to talk to you," a quiet voice said behind her.
Maggie whirled to see Joanne standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a frown creasing the smooth skin of her forehead. Very slowly, she dried her hands on the dishtowel she kept hanging beside the sink, and then gestured toward the table.
