WOMEN OF SURPRISE 03: Making Over Maggie

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WOMEN OF SURPRISE 03: Making Over Maggie Page 8

by Tracey J. Lyons


  Maggie didn't like the way she looked in the picture. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and on that particular day she'd been cleaning. So she'd been wearing an old brown dress that made her look old and prudish. Samuel was wearing his typical garb and looked as handsome as ever.

  Taking matters into her own hands she stepped forward. "I'm Maggie Monroe. Welcome to Surprise."

  Sam's father stepped forward. Extending his hand to her, he said, "I'm Daniel Clay and this is my wife, Emma, and our youngest son Walter."

  Feeling a bit stupefied she took his hand in hers and shook it. It took all of her control not to knock Samuel off his feet. His treatment of his family was deplorable to say the very least and she wasn't going to stand for it.

  Looking from him to his father, she quipped, "I can certainly see the family resemblance."

  Candidly she added, "You'll have to forgive your son. I'm afraid that living here in this small town must have addled his brain a bit more than I first thought."

  Sam's hand gripped her shoulder. "I don't need you to be making excuses for me, Maggie."

  "Might I suggest that you welcome your family to our little town properly?"

  Carrying the same stiffness in his posture that she'd noticed earlier, he moved toward them. "Mother, Father. It's good to see you. You're both looking well. And Walter, I don't believe I would have recognized you; you've grown so much"

  The insincerity in his tone had her chomping down on her lower lip in frustration. And he thought she was stubborn?

  "How long will you be staying in town?" Maggie asked Mrs. Clay.

  "We're not sure. We've already done some inquiring and it seems there aren't many extra rooms left in your boarding houses."

  "I'm sure we can find a place for you to stay while you're here. Perhaps Samuel will be so kind as to give up his room for you"

  Beside her she thought she heard him choking. Daring to look at him, she saw the color of his face was a most brilliant shade of red. Giving him a good strong whack between his shoulder blades, she offered, "There, that should be better."

  He glared at her. "Might I have a word with you?" Without waiting for her answer he grabbed hold of her elbow, propelling her across the grassy knoll out of hearing distance of his family.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  "I'm trying to be nice to your family. Samuel, whatever has gotten into you? Your family has obviously gone to great lengths to find you. The least you can do is act like you're happy to see them."

  "I am."

  Folding her arms across her chest, she studied his face. She wondered why he was looking so forlorn and troubled. "Samuel? Tell me what's going on."

  Spreading out his arms, he gave her one of his false smiles. "The time isn't right for them to be here. That's all there is to it."

  A warm breeze filtered through the glade, rising up over the land where they were standing. Turning her face toward the sky, Maggie let the air caress her skin. It reminded her of the way Samuel's touch felt, feather light and soft. Taking a calming breath, she turned to find him walking away from her.

  She'd never seen him like this. Even when she'd painted the outside trim that awful green, he hadn't been this upset.

  With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw his family still standing there alone on the hillside. Picking up her skirts, she ran after him.

  Catching up to him, she latched on to his arm. Pulling him around to face her, she implored, "They came all this way to see you, Samuel. The very least you can do is take them someplace where they will be comfortable and you can talk."

  "I don't want to do that, Maggie. And I don't want you interfering in this."

  Tears stung her eyes. In the space of a few short minutes the happiness she'd felt evaporated. Looking into his hazel eyes, she saw a stranger. How could she have believed there could be something more than friendship between them?

  Dropping her arms to her side, she replied as calmly as she could, "Very well then. I won't bother you over this matter any further." Stepping away from him, she went back to the small family.

  "Maggie! Wait!"

  Rushing along she hurried to put as much space between them as possible. "Leave me alone, Samuel" Waving him off, she joined the Clays. The very least she could do was make them feel welcome.

  "Why don't you let me see about finding you some rooms?"

  "That would be lovely, Miss Monroe. But I'm sure our eldest will help us out"

  Looking back toward the knoll, Maggie didn't see any sign of Samuel. "I'm going to speak to my aunt. You wait right here until I come back."

  Tramping down the hill she found her aunt sitting under the big oak tree talking with Lydia and Abigail. Quickly interrupting them, she explained the predicament of the Clays being in town with no place to stay. And just as she'd hoped, Aunt Margaret felt called to action.

  Making her way back up the hill she found the Clays right where she'd left them. "Mr. and Mrs. Clay, Walter. My aunt has graciously offered the use of several rooms in the guest wing of her home"

  "Oh my, this is too much to ask of a complete stranger. It would be such an imposition."

  "Nonsense. My aunt has enough room in her house to take in half the town" Smiling, she held out her hand to the older woman.

  When she took it in hers, Maggie felt the timeworn calluses of someone who'd worked a great deal. Remembering that Samuel had told her of the family farm, she asked, "How did you manage to get time away from your farm?"

  A look of anguish crossed between the couple. "If you don't mind Miss, it's a matter we wish to discuss with our son first"

  Nodding, Maggie wondered when that might be. For people who had most certainly been traveling for hours and had to be weary down to their bones, they had the patience of saints where their son was concerned.

  Maggie thought his ears deserved a good boxing. "All right then. Let's get you settled. Did you leave your bags at the station?"

  "The clerk at the telegraph office said we could leave them with him until we found a room."

  Aunt Margaret and Mr. Wagner found them just as they reached the path leading to the house. "There you are, Maggie. Please, introduce me to my guests."

  "Aunt Margaret, this is Emma and Daniel Clay and their youngest son, Walter."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm so glad you'll be staying with us. My housekeeper, Anna, can help you get your things up to the guest rooms"

  Aunt Margaret prudently left out the fact that they were Samuel's long lost family.

  "Did I hear you say your bags are at the telegraph office?"

  "Yes," Mr. Clay answered.

  "John, why don't you and Mr. Clay andWalter, is it?-take care of retrieving their belongings while we ladies get settled."

  "Come along with me, gentlemen. I think the ladies wish to be alone"

  As the men ambled off, Maggie helped her aunt up the flower-lined walkway. She'd been so busy, she'd hardly noticed that Aunt Margaret had graduated from the wheelchair to using a cane to aid her in getting around.

  Anna greeted them at the door, holding it open for them. "Come in. I see we have company"

  "Anna, this is Samuel Clay's mother, Emma. His father and brother went back to town with Mr. Wagner to get their luggage. They will be staying with us indefinitely."

  "Oh, no. We will not be imposing for that long. I'm sure a room will become available soon" Emma spoke in soft dulcet tones.

  Maggie wondered how this petite woman could be Samuel's mother. "It is no imposition. We love to have guests and it's been a long time since any have stayed here"

  The foyer felt cool after being out in the noonday sun, though the coolness did little to chill her hot anger.

  Taking a stance in the doorway to the lumberyard office, Samuel watched his mother being escorted to the house on the hill. He didn't know how to tell Maggie that he hadn't run from them because he didn't want them around. He'd done so because he was scared.

  "Looks to me like
our friend here has some troubles," Cole said, nudging Alexander in the side with his elbow.

  "Trouble just seems to follow me around," he scoffed.

  Putting his arm around Samuel's shoulder, Alexander said, "Tell you what, why don't we go into my office, out of sight of the women, and have some libations?"

  "Sounds good to me," he replied.

  Cole led the way to the back office. Opening the bottom desk drawer he pulled out a bottle and three tumblers. When Samuel looked at him questioningly, Cole said, "Sometimes a man's got to have a little sustenance to get through the rough spots."

  Sitting in the straight-backed chair facing the desk, he accepted the glass Cole handed him. Alexander took a seat behind the desk, while Cole leaned back against the wall. Silently they sipped.

  Alexander was the first to speak. "So those people, they're your kinfolk?"

  Nodding, Sam tossed back another swallow of the whiskey.

  "You know most people in these parts would be pleased to see their family. I couldn't help but notice that you seem anything but"

  "I wasn't expecting to see them for several more months. They caught me off guard is all"

  "They look like decent people to me," Cole said.

  "They are" And this was a big part of what was bothering him. His father, mother, and brother were decent, plain people who worked hard to earn a living. What possessed them to leave the farm and go out into the world searching for him?

  "Looks to me like Miss Maggie and her aunt took a liking to them from the start," Alexander noted.

  Sam frowned at him, once again knowing that he should be happy that Maggie and his family had appeared to have taken a liking to one another so quickly.

  Cole said, "You've got to hand it to the Monroe women, they sure know how to make a body feel welcome"

  "Most of the time Maggie gives me nothing but grief." Slumping in the chair, he gulped down the rest of the whiskey, thinking about the times when she wasn't giving him grief. The times when she smiled at him, or laughed with him, those were the times when just being in the same room with her warmed his soul.

  Cole and Alexander exchanged knowing glances. "That's the way it is with those women, from the beginning, anyway," Cole commented.

  "Then they get under your skin and worm their way into your heart and before you know it, you're married to one of them" Alexander added with a knowing smile.

  Folding his arms across his chest, Sam stared at the two of them in disbelief, declaring, "I'm not ready to marry Maggie Monroe"

  "So you say right now." Cole laughed.

  "Look, I've got bigger problems right now."

  He stood and set the empty glass on the desk. Nodding to both men, he left. Standing in the middle of the road, he looked around, unable to decide what to do next. He supposed he could just confront his father and get all of the questions out of the way, or he could go to work at the dance hall. Better yet, he could just go to his room and sulk.

  About to walk off in that direction, he caught sight of his father, brother, and John Wagner making their way down the walkway with three large traveling bags and one trunk between them.

  Knowing he couldn't very well ignore them, he stepped between them, taking one of the bags from his father's timeworn hand. Thankfully there was no need for conversation on his part for Mr. Wagner chattered nonstop like a magpie the whole way to Margaret's home.

  Samuel wondered at the man's capacity for useless banter.

  The door to the house was already open when they arrived. With little fanfare the men set the bags down in the center of the hall. Sam was once again struck by the magnificence of the house. The claret-colored carpeting was lush under their feet.

  Vases of flowers were placed neatly on side tables and the entire home smelled of lemony furniture polish. He realized with a start that Maggie had come out into the hallway. Silhouetted in the afternoon shadows, she watched him.

  He found it curious how calm she appeared to be. Wispy tendrils of blond hair framed her face and those clear blue eyes were void of the anger he'd witnessed earlier. He couldn't help wondering if perhaps this was the calm before the storm.

  Any minute she would pounce on him trading barbs, making him confess his thoughts and deep dark secrets. She had a way of making him say things he wouldn't otherwise share. He almost smiled at the thought. It seemed Cole and Alexander were right-she was getting under his skin. He wasn't so sure she'd fully wormed her way into his heart yet, though.

  "Gentlemen, I see you found the luggage. Anna will show you to your rooms."

  The tall housekeeper seemed to materialize out of thin air, ready to do her job.

  "She's already put fresh water and towels there for you to wash up with. I'm sure after such a long trip you'd like to get rid of the road dust."

  "Thank you, Miss Monroe. That's right kind of you" Samuel's father practically fell over himself shaking Maggie's hand while Walter stood shyly off to one side. A schoolboy blush spread across his face.

  "Aunt Margaret and I will be awaiting your return in here." Gesturing behind her, Maggie showed them the sitting room.

  With his father and brother following the housekeeper upstairs, Sam was left in the hallway with Maggie. Uncertain as to what to do next he looked to her with a sideways glance.

  "Samuel, might I have a word with you outside?" Without waiting for his reply she walked ahead of him out the front door.

  He'd no choice but to follow.

  "Your mother is exhausted from their trip. Try to be nice to her."

  "Of course I'll be nice to her."

  Turning, she looked at him fiercely. "Would you mind telling me why their coming here has you so upset? It's quite obvious they love you very much. And dare I say, though Lord knows why, they seem to have missed you"

  Shoving his hands in his pockets in frustration, he looked down the hill at the town. "They aren't here because they missed me. Something is wrong."

  Distress etched her features. "You think someone is sick?"

  "Good grief, Maggie. Don't be such an alarmist. I'm not sure what's going on"

  "There's only one way to find out. Ask them."

  He wished he had her fortitude. Maggie never skirted around any issue; her forthrightness was one of the things he admired about her. If she wanted to know something, she'd come right out and ask. Tenacity-that's what she had, and it's what he needed right now.

  "As soon as they've rested up from the trip I'll speak with them"

  "Good. They should be ready in half an hour."

  "You don't give an inch do you, Maggie?"

  "Not where family is concerned I don't."

  He saw the sincerity reflected in her eyes and the stubborn set of her very attractive jaw line. It made him wonder when he'd become so cynical.

  "I can't go back to their way of life."

  "No one is asking you to"

  "You don't know that. The reason they're here could very well be to drag me back to save the farm." Raking his hands through his hair, he declared, "I won't do it, Maggie!"

  She must have sensed his anguish. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she said, "You don't even know what brought them here. Wait until you find out and then you can decide what needs to be done"

  He conceded. "All right."

  She left him standing with his back to her. She paused before going inside, saying softly, "And whatever is wrong, you don't have to do this alone."

  Turning, he was going to thank her, but she was already inside the house. Taking a deep breath for fortitude, he walked through the entryway. Following the sound of female voices he was about to enter the sitting room when his father's voice stopped him.

  "Samuel."

  He thought his father looked tired. With a face wrinkled from the hours spent out of doors working, the tall figure from his memories was now slightly hunched over at the shoulders. His hair had thinned somewhat giving him a slightly older appearance than when Sam had last seen him.

  "Woul
d it be all right with you if we talked outside on the porch?"

  To call it a porch was putting it mildly. What surrounded three quarters of Miss Margaret's home was a wide, pillared verandah. He didn't correct his father. To this man anything that stuck out from the front of a house was a porch.

  Gesturing for his father to sit in one of the white wicker chairs, Sam joined him. An awkward silence stretched between them.

  His father broke the silence, saying, "Those are some fancy duds you're wearing, son. They suit you"

  "Thanks"

  Settling into the plump seat cushions, his father set the chair to rocking. "How are things with you?"

  "Fine. As you know I was fortunate enough to get a job managing a dance hall." Resting his elbows on his knees, Samuel said, "I still have time left on our agreement, Pa"

  A frown furrowed his father's brow. "You think that's why we're here, son? To take you back to the farm?"

  "Well, aren't you?"

  "We sold the farm"

  Sam's head snapped up. "Why?"

  "I'm not as young as I used to be, Samuel. Walter's been a help, but the land got to be more than we could handle. And there was no telling if you were coming back."

  Guilt mingled with more than a little regret at the news. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said and he meant it. While farming hadn't been in his blood, it was his father's life, just as it had been for two generations before him.

  He knew what it must have cost his father to give up the land and the legacy.

  "We got a real good offer from a gentleman out of New York City. He wants to build a big house on the property" He sat there with his hands dangling at the side of the chair. "It's more money than I'd seen in my lifetime." He smiled at bit at the thought.

  "If it's what you wanted to do then I'm pleased for you. But why did you come here?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop from asking.

 

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