Moonlight on the Millpond (13 page)

“Jace didn't do anything?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Okay,” Doyle said, respecting her privacy. “Do you want Cathy to call you for tea?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Doyle shut the door, and Maddie lay down on the bed. It wasn't fair that the treatment of a man who hadn't deserved her love should color her world for all time, but it was turning out that way. Jace's face swam into her mind. She pushed it away. Right now she pushed everything away. Some days it was the only way she could survive.

“Jace, what you have to understand about Maddie is that she's been hurt.”

“By whom?”

Jace had come to town midweek and found Cathy alone in the store.

“A man in Boston. She was in love, and he didn't tell her he was married.”

Jace nodded calmly, but his mind was racing. This made sense. It explained quite a bit.

“When was this?”

“A long time ago—maybe about a year after she left.”

“So that would have made her what, 19?”

“Eighteen.”

“And there's been no one in all this time?”

“No.”

They both heard Maddie coming down the stairs from the storage rooms and into the office. Cathy went to the office door to see whether she'd found what she went for, and Jace exited the way he'd come. He'd not arrived with much on his list—it was getting harder to come up with things—and right now he just wanted to keep thinking. He couldn't do that around Maddie, and Cathy couldn't tell him any more.

Jace made his way back to the farm, wishing there was some way Maddie would talk to him about what happened to her. He wasn't the type to play games with a woman. For all of Eden's claims that he had no head around women, he'd never used a girl or spent time with someone he hadn't truly cared for.

He had told Woody that this was going to take more time than he expected. Jace was torn between not wanting Doyle to be sick, and fearing that Maddie would return to Boston before he could persuade her that he was not playing games with her heart.

Six

Woody did not come to the breakfast table Thursday morning. He usually beat Jace downstairs, but not so this day. Jace waited only a short time before checking with Clara.

“Did Woody head outside already?”

“I haven't seen him.”

Jace weighed his options. He had never invaded the privacy of his uncle's bedroom, but that didn't mean he shouldn't if his health was in question. No matter how well and hearty he seemed most days, Woody Randall was not at his best.

Jace went to the stairway, vaguely aware that Clara followed. She didn't follow Jace into the room after Jace knocked but lingered in the hall.

“Woody?” Jace spoke softly, easing himself quietly inside.

“Yeah,” Woody answered with a distinct morning growl.

“Are you all right?”

“My chest hurts.”

“I'll go for Doc MacKay.”

“No. He'll just tell me what I already know. I just want to rest.”

“Okay,” Jace said, but he lingered in indecision. “Do you want anything?”

“Some water.”

Jace used the pitcher in the room and poured him a glass. Clara had come in by then. She stood at the foot of the bed. A slight wringing of her hands was the only indication she was distressed.

“How's that?”

“Good. I'm just going to sleep for a while, and then I'll join you in the south field.”

“It's already raining. I'm just headed to work on the wagon wheel in the barn, so you stay put.”

“How heavy do the skies look?”

“I'm not sure. I'll check back with you.”

Woody only raised his hand and turned on his side to get comfortable. Jace and Clara cleared the room, but both felt a little lost. Jace stood outside the closed door for a long time, Clara at the top of the stairs.

“I'm going to make his favorite bread,” Clara said.

Jace went to her and kept his voice low. “I'm going to run into town just to talk with Doc MacKay. If he confirms what Woody said, I'll come back without him. I'll let you know when I get back.”

Clara nodded, and Jace wasted no time in saddling a horse to be on his way. It was a wet ride, but he barely noticed. He wasn't ready to lose his uncle—he'd known that all along—but the current pounding of his heart only accentuated that fact.

Woody expected to fall back to sleep almost immediately. He shifted in bed a few times but still wasn't tired enough to drop off. He usually slept well in the night, and last night had been no exception. Clearly his body had had enough rest.

Swinging his legs over the bed, he slowly sat up. He wasn't sure if he imagined it or not, but he thought his chest might be feeling better. Not sure what to think, he decided that lying around never helped anyone. After drinking the water that was left, he got up and shaved.

“Is anyone here?” Jace stood quietly and called to the empty room. He'd let himself in. The shingle hanging over the door announced the residence of Dr. MacKay, and Jace had just assumed he was welcome.

“Is someone there?” a voice called down the stairs.

“Yes.”

“I'll be right with you.”

Jace waited only until he'd spotted the man who joined him. His own heart was in danger of stopping, so rattled was he about his uncle.

“I don't think we've ever met,” Jace said, the words coming in a rush. “I'm Woody Randall's nephew.”

“Is Woody all right?”

“I'm not sure. He said his chest hurt, and he didn't feel like getting up. He said you would only tell him what he already knows, but I wanted to hear that from you.”

“I didn't catch your name, son,” the kindly old doctor said as he put his hand out.

“Jace Randall, sir,” he replied, shaking the offered hand. “Can you come? Is there a need?”

“I can come, but it will only irritate Woody, and he's right.” The doctor gave a small smile. “I've told him all there is to know.”

Jace nodded, feeling a complete loss for words.

“Is he comfortable?”

“I think so. He wanted to stay in bed, and he wanted some water.”

“Then I think you're doing fine. Just follow his lead, Jace. Let him tell you what he wants and doesn't want. And if ever he would want me to come, I will.”

“Thank you,” Jace said, his voice growing a little thick.

The wise doctor nodded, not the least offended when Jace Randall left without saying goodbye. He was glad to have met the younger Randall. It helped the doctor know that Woody was in good hands.

Jace came to a dead halt when he returned to the farm and found Woody at the worktable in the kitchen. That man was reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. He looked a little tired but overall like himself.

“You're feeling better?” Jace asked, working not to react one way or the other. The man had scared him to death, and it was easy to be irritated about that. At the same time, Jace wanted to send him back to bed.

It came to him that this was Eden's influence coming out in him. Woody was a grown man. He knew whether or not he needed to rest. Jace's desire to send Woody back to bed was for his own peace of mind. He didn't want to worry, and that was more easily accomplished if Woody took things slowly.

“I am better, yes. Did you fix that wheel?” Woody asked, and Jace realized that Clara had not told Woody he'd gone into town.

“No, not yet. I'm going to get a cup of coffee and then get it done.”

Clara all but shoved the mug into Jace's hands, having prepared it the moment the words were out of his mouth. Their eyes met for a moment, and Jace read worry in her gaze.

“Thanks, Clara,” Jace said, meaning it for much more than the coffee. It was good to have someone else around who cared and worried with him.

“I'll be in the barn,” Jace said and made his exit. He was certain that Woody would be on his tail, but he was wrong. When he came from the barn for noon dinner—rain still falling— Woody was sound asleep in the rocking chair next to the kitchen fireplace.