by Francis Ray
She shook her head and stared up at him in amazement. “Why didn’t you talk this much when you were building the house?”
He laughed. Even to his ears it sounded forced. If you only knew. “Come on. I kept your supper warm.”
Thirty minutes later Zachary walked to his truck feeling a lot better than he had when he’d arrived that afternoon. Manda was where she belonged, but he was under no illusions that it would be easy for her to stay. Deep in thought, he opened the truck’s door and got inside.
No one had to tell him that another woman would have tossed him and Manda out without a second thought. Others might have kept her out of a sense of duty, but never love. Manda needed and deserved to be loved. Madison, despite all the emotional upheaval she was going through, had put the welfare of Manda before her own. Although she didn’t think so, her actions took courage and compassion. She was quite a woman. He hated lying to her, but at the moment he couldn’t see that he had a choice.
Zachary eased to a stop at a signal light. Wes had put all of them in a difficult situation, but that was Wes. Zachary had loved Wes, but he hadn’t been blind to his faults. He’d give you anything, but he thought what he wanted, needed, was vastly more important than what others wanted or needed.
Zachary pulled off, then hit the Central Expressway going south. Wes had been heartbroken when Madison had lost the baby, but despite Zachary’s urging, Wes had never told her how he felt. He’d grown up with the antiquated notion that men didn’t share or show their feelings. Instead he had acted as if he wasn’t hurting as much as she was. He’d left her alone instead of talking to her about the baby they’d lost.
According to Wes, as time passed, he and Madison had grown further and further apart. Hoping the dream house they’d planned for over a year would bring them back together, he had insisted that Zachary start building. The room Madison now occupied had originally been designated to be a nursery that would accommodate a growing child with an inquisitive mind.
It had fallen to Zachary to ask Madison about the change in wallpaper since the whimsical print she’d picked out would have been a constant reminder of the child she’d lost. She’d chosen the rose silk wallpaper, then asked him to enlarge the room and the bath. He understood why, now. Even then she’d planned to take it for herself.
Not once had she come alone to see the progress of the house, but occasionally Wes would bring her with him to the site. The few times Zachary spoke with her, she’d look at him with such pain in her soft brown eyes that he’d always felt as if he should hug her or speak to her in a hushed tone. He’d thought and worried about her a lot. It had irritated Zachary that Wes never seemed to notice.
But then Wes was gone a great deal and when he was home he was usually out chasing down a story, charming the wheelers and dealers of Dallas which his monied background and status as a celebrity afforded him, or on the golf course. Zachary had tried to talk with him, but Wes always insisted that marriages hit rough patches now and then. He’d use his parents as an example and say they were still together.
Zachary never had the heart or the courage to say that whatever kept them together, it wasn’t love. Zachary’s mother and stepfather loved each other, and they loved him. The morning after Wes died, they’d arrived at his house just as he was leaving for work. His mother had fussed over him, and made him promise to take care of himself, and that included not making the six-hour round-trip drive to Houston to see them off on their cruise that weekend.
Even if Zachary didn’t have a special woman in his life, his parents were a great example of what marriage was supposed to be like. Wes and Madison had it once, but with the loss of their child they’d also lost each other.
Turning into the driveway of his two-story Georgian house in South Dallas, Zachary cut the motor and got out of the truck. He’d saved the house from being bulldozed down ten years ago when he’d barely had enough money to make ends meet. Now, after the revival of South Dallas, the infusion of upscale businesses, the revitalization of Fair Park several blocks away, and the refurbishing he’d done, he found a note in his mailbox almost weekly asking if he wanted to sell. What he’d paid twenty thousand dollars for could now easily go for fifteen times that amount.
The second his booted foot hit the wooden bottom step the motion lights came on. Inserting an old-fashioned iron key, he opened the leaded-glass door and stepped onto the gleaming hardwood floor that his housekeeper repeatedly asked him to carpet. If he did, she’d find something else to complain about. She was only happy if she could fuss, but she hadn’t said one word when he’d brought Manda and all the paraphernalia home.
He took the gracefully curved mahogany stairs two at a time. His bedroom was the last one at the end of the hallway done in knot pine. Inside the oversized room with its high ceiling and wide windows, he noticed the quietness first, then the spot where Manda’s crib had been. He hadn’t expected to miss her so soon, but he did. He glanced at the phone on the bedside by the oak antique bed and almost reached for it.
If he started worrying Madison, she might think he didn’t trust her or, just as bad, would tell him to pick Manda up. He had to be patient and trust in his instincts. Uneasiness moved through him.
Those instincts were telling him that the lady wouldn’t like being lied to a second time. He just hoped she’d understand when she learned he hadn’t been entirely truthful about Manda. He hadn’t a doubt that eventually she’d find out. Life had taught him that sooner or later the truth always came out, and when it did, it was seldom pretty or neat.
He just had to be ready.
TEN
MADISON WAS READY, OR so she told herself. She’s been up for the past thirty minutes, showered, changed, and had a bottle waiting. Then Manda woke up and fastened those hazel eyes on her, and Madison wasn’t so sure anymore. Her stomach took a hard dive. Her hands clenched.
If only she didn’t have his eyes. If only …
A whimper cut off Madison’s thoughts. Manda’s lower lip was stuck out and trembling. Soon the tears would follow. Madison studied the pretty, round face of the infant and wondered what features, if any, the baby had of the mother.
Manda whimpered again.
Shutting her mind off, Madison came off the bed and crossed the room. Not giving herself a chance to falter, she reached out and picked the infant up under the arms. Manda’s feet dangled in the air. “What I am going to do with you?”
Manda simply stared.
“One of us should have a clue.”
Manda flapped her arms and kicked her feet.
“Guess that means you don’t know, either.” Slowly, Madison gathered the baby in her arms. She was soft and warm. If it had been another child, Madison would have thought nothing of kissing her curly head or blowing kisses on her plump cheeks, as she had done countless times with her two nieces or the babies of acquaintances or associates. But this wasn’t just any child.
Battling her anger, wanting to get the baby fed and out of her arms, Madison hurriedly changed Manda’s diaper, then headed to the kitchen. Madison was a step away from the stove when Manda suddenly lunged for the waiting bottle in the pan of hot water.
“No!” Madison yelled, jerking the infant back into her arms before she reached into the hot water.
Manda screamed in Madison’s ear.
Madison didn’t even wince at the sound. Although she was positive Manda hadn’t been burned, she checked her dimpled hands and chubby arms that flailed in the air.
Trembling, Madison sat down in the nearest chair, holding the child to her. If she had been burned, it would have been Madison’s fault. Caught in her own misery, she had almost let the baby get hurt. “It’s all right. I’m sorry. It’s all right.”
The cries grew louder and more demanding. Hunger or fear, Madison didn’t know. She felt tears prick her own eyes. She couldn’t do this.
The doorbell rang. She rushed to the intercom and flicked it on. “Zachary, please let it be you.”
“What’s the matter?” Zachary’s anxious voice came through loud and clear.
She didn’t answer, just took off running. Opening the door one-handed, she thrust Manda into his arms with the other.
He caught the baby, his worried gaze going from the crying infant to an equally upset Madison. “What happened?”
“She—she lunged for the bottle in the hot pan of water. I—caught her, but …”
Zachary closed the door and stepped inside the wide, tiled foyer. “Why do you think I put her down yesterday? The day after I brought her home she started. She sees a bottle and goes crazy.”
“You should have told me!” Madison hit him in the chest with a closed fist. “I thought she did it yesterday because you were late with her feeding.”
Understanding it was the aftermath of anxiety and seeing the residual fear in her eyes, he accepted his punishment. “Sorry. I guess she’s feeling more comfortable with us, since she didn’t do it in the hospital,” he reasoned. “Why don’t you hold her while I go get her bottle?”
Madison looked at Manda, quiet now, her lashes spiked with tears. “She’s probably afraid of me now.”
Zachary heard the hesitancy in Madison’s voice and went on instinct. He held Manda out to her. “Let’s see.”
After a brief moment the baby reached out. Madison’s hands closed securely around the infant’s waist, then slowly pulled her closer. By the time Madison held Manda against her, the baby was leaning against Madison, her sniffles becoming quieter with each breath she took.
Zachary breathed a sigh of relief and gently urged Madison into the kitchen, then into a carved oval-back upholstered chair at the round pedestal table. Removing the bottle from the water, he tested the milk’s temperature before handing it to Madison. Manda lurched, but this time Madison was ready. Taking the bottle, she gave it to Manda, who fastened both hands around it and sucked greedily.
“Better?” Zachary questioned, crouching down in front of Madison.
Madison glanced at him. “Sorry I hit you.”
He rubbed his chest and smiled. “Are you really?”
She laughed. “I’m not sure.”
Zachary stared up at her, enjoying the smile on her face and the sight of her feeding Manda. She was a beautiful woman. “She’ll want her cereal when she finishes. I’ll get it ready.”
Madison watched him prepare the cereal, then turned back to Manda. Her eyes watched Zachary’s every movement. “She’s certainly taken to you.”
He tossed a careless smile over his shoulder. “I’m an easy guy to like.”
Madison considered, then decided he was right. He had an easy, calming way about him. She recalled the day he had asked her about the wallpaper change in what was to be the baby’s room. The sympathy and reluctance in his strong face had been evident. He didn’t know she had overheard him ask Wes, who had shoved the decision off on her. At that moment she had despised her husband.
“What is it?” Zachary asked, hunkering down in front of her again. Despite Manda’s grabbing for the bowl with one hand while she kept the other hand on the bottle, his attention stayed on Madison. “Talking helps.”
She couldn’t share all her deepest thoughts with him, but perhaps a few wouldn’t hurt. “If I hadn’t been feeling sorry for myself and thinking of Wes and Manda’s mother, I would have been paying better attention to her.” She lifted dark eyes to him. “It was my fault she was almost hurt. You may have been wrong to leave her here with me.”
Zachary studied the grief etched in her face and wished he could pull her into his arms and comfort her. “None of this is your fault, so don’t hang that around your neck. You’ve got a right to your anger. As far as I know there hasn’t been a chance for you to let it out. Until you do, it’s going to eat you up inside.”
Manda finished off her bottle and reached for the cereal with both hands. Zachary deftly traded the cereal bowl for her. “Burp or you’ll have a tummy ache.” He casually put Manda over his shoulder and rubbed her back.
Madison’s hands fisted. “He’s gone. I shouldn’t be angry, but I can’t help it.”
“Don’t try,” Zachary said.
Manda burped.
“Good girl.” Setting her back on Madison’s lap, Zachary took the bowl and began to spoon in cereal to a waiting mouth. “If Wes were alive you’d have a chance to tell him off, but he isn’t so he left you with no way, plus you have the unexpected responsibility of caring for Manda. Until you accept your anger as normal you’re going to be unhappy and tense.” He spooned in another bite. “Personally, I’d rather be around a happy woman. Makes life easier. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Manda waved her arms and blew cereal at him.
He chuckled and wiped her mouth with the cloth from his shoulder. “See, Manda agrees with me.”
“Happiness can be an illusion,” Madison said softly, her hands around the child’s waist.
“For some. Not for others.” He stared at her a long moment before continuing. “Not for my mother and stepfather, and not from what I saw of your parents. They touch. When they talk they lean in, they smile at each other. You can tell the happy couples. They don’t have to say a word.”
Madison bit her lips, wondering what Zachary had seen when he had looked at her and Wes. Then something in his face told her she didn’t have to wonder. “You knew.”
“Yes.” Their was no need to lie, to evade.
She felt exposed, lacking in some elemental way to keep her husband faithful. She wanted to ask if he and Wes had discussed her; instead she stood. “I better get her bath.”
He came easily to his feet, accepting that she was politely tossing him out. “I’ll be out in the field all day, but beep if you need me. I plan to check on the farthest sites then work my way back into Dallas.”
“Thanks for coming by,” Madison said. At least he was trying to help and not just dumping everything in her lap and leaving it up to her to sort it all out.
Zachary’s large hand swept over Manda’s dark curls as she lay against Madison’s chest. “She can be a handful in the morning. She’s slippery as an eel during bathtime and likes to splash water.”
“That you did tell me.”
“See you later, then.” He wished he could take the sadness from Madison’s face, but only time could do that. Wes had a great deal to answer for. “I’ll show myself out. I’m not sure how she’ll react to my leaving.”
“I’m not sure how I’ll react, either,” Madison said.
He stared at her a long time, wanting to touch her, reassure her, comfort her. “I’m only a phone call away.” Turning, he walked away, each step more difficult than the last.
Madison and Manda had made it through bath time, but trying to put her flailing arms and legs into her footed coveralls took some effort. Finally, she was dressed. “Now what?” Madison asked.
Light-brown eyes stared watchfully back at her.
“Clueless, too, huh? Well, let’s go clean up the kitchen.”
In the kitchen, she put Manda in the swing facing outside, but had only gone a few steps when the baby began to whimper. Rushing back, Madison dropped on her knees in front of the swing, her worried gaze quickly running over the unhappy face. “What’s the matter?”
Manda squealed and stuck out her arms.
“Don’t like being alone, eh?” Picking the baby up, Madison took the swing into the kitchen and put Manda back in, turned on the radio to comfort both of them, then went to the sink.
Occasionally as she cleaned up the kitchen, she glanced at the gibbering baby. Without fail each time she did, she found Manda’s light-brown eyes watching her. Uneasiness began to creep over her.
“Don’t get used to me. This is only temporary,” Madison said, then immediately felt both foolish and mean. This wasn’t the baby’s fault. Hands clamped on the edge of the sink, Madison’s head fell forward.
“Wes, how could you do this to me?”
Her answer was the happy squeal of h
is baby.
ELEVEN
ZACHARY CHECKED HIS CELL phone every fifteen minutes to make sure it was working. Manda slept a lot, but when she was up, she wanted attention. There wasn’t going to be any way for Madison to avoid seeing her, touching her, talking to her. In a way, that was good because it would force them to be in contact with each other, but it could also lead to problems.
“Zach, if you don’t place that tile the glue will dry.”
Zachary pressed in the black tile in the shower stall, then reached for another. “You finished in the powder room?”
Kelli Potts, folded her arms and leaned against the door jam. Small, delicate, with an impish smile in a pretty, mocha-hued face, she was the head carpenter of this project. “Ten minutes ago. You all right?”
“Just thinking,” Zachary said, pressing in another tile.
“If you think any slower, you’ll never finish.” Coming down beside him, she nudged him aside. “Go take care of whatever it is that’s bothering you. Me and the guys know what to do.”
“I haven’t been much help lately,” he said. He believed in doing his best and working alongside his crew.
Kelli picked up another tile. “You will be when you get things settled. It’s hard losing a friend. You go check on his wife.”
He hadn’t told his employees about Manda, but they knew he and Wes had been close and that he had died. Some of them, like Kelli, had worked on Wes and Madison’s house. “She’s probably fine.”
“Then go see for yourself, then come back. This house is not going anywhere.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Zachary said, knowing Madison’s house was a good hour’s drive away. Washing up, he headed outside. Getting into his truck, he consoled himself with the knowledge that the sooner he got there and checked on them, the sooner he’d get back.
