Moonlight on the Millpond (17 page)

“Well, hello, Hillary,” Maddie greeted when that girl came in the front door.

“Hello, Miss Shephard. How are you?”

“I'm very well. How about yourself?”

“I'm fine. My father is visiting with Mr. Shephard, so I came with him to fill a list for my mother.”

Maddie smiled, now understanding her serious face. She was on a mission.

“Put your basket here, Hillary,” Maddie invited, “and tell me what you need.”

“Lemon oil and lard,” Hillary began, and Maddie started to put things on the counter. They worked together for about 20 minutes before Hillary said they'd covered the list.

“It was kind of your father to visit Doyle,” Maddie mentioned, helping Hillary arrange the things in her basket.

“He likes your uncle. We all do.”

Maddie smiled, pleased but not very surprised. Everyone in town liked Doyle Shephard.

“Is he feeling better?” Hillary asked.

“Well, he's taking it slow, and that might help in time.”

Hillary nodded, not willing to intrude but also not willing to admit that she didn't know what was wrong with Doyle Shephard.

“Why didn't you visit him too?” Maddie asked.

“Well, sometimes folks like to talk about spiritual things with my father, and that can be private.”

“What type of things do they discuss with him?” Maddie asked, suddenly very interested—not for Doyle but for herself.

Hillary answered artlessly, which was her way. “Oh, they ask about life, death, heaven, and hell—those types of things.”

Maddie knew no end of frustration when they were joined by another customer. She wanted to ask Hillary more on those very subjects but couldn't.

“Feel free to browse, Hillary,” Maddie directed, hoping the younger girl would stay for a while.

“Thank you.”

Hillary left her basket on the end of the counter and did look around. She had never been in on her own before and found it to be a wonderful treat. There wasn't enough time, however. Her father showed up long before she'd seen it all, saying he was ready to go. Maddie was still working with a customer.

“How was your visit?” Hillary asked her father.

“It was enlightening,” he said thoughtfully. “Did you have a good time in the store?”

“Yes,” Hillary told him, thinking about the browsing she had done, the dishes and fabric she'd seen. It never even occurred to her to mention her conversation with Maddie. She hadn't noticed anything unusual or important.

Little did the Muldoons know that Maddie finished with her customer just after they left the store and walked all the way out on the road, only to find them too far down the green.

Maddie was thoughtful as she went back inside. She had thought she'd spoken with all the pastors she knew. She'd completely forgotten Douglas Muldoon.

Jace timed his visit again near the end of the day. Maddie was alone—she'd been on her own most of the day—and working on the jewelry display that sat on the counter. She liked having quiet intervals to do small jobs but was also pleased to see Jace.

“Well, Mr. Randall.” She turned when she heard the door. “What brings you to town this evening?”

Jace thought her voice and face were open and friendly, but the question threw him a bit.

“I just happened by,” he improvised, hoping to keep that smile on her face. “Just passing through, you might say.”

Maddie smiled at him, and Jace relaxed. Maybe his uncle knew more about women than he realized.

“Have you had a busy day?”

“Not very,” Maddie told him, glad for the fact. Cathy had butchered a hog and wasn't available. It was nice that things had been quiet. “How about your day?”

“Well, the rain always changes the schedule. Field work was out, and there's only so much to be done at the barn and the mill right now.”

Maddie nodded, not seeming to be put out when Jace came close. He looked at the jewelry she was arranging and pointed to a bracelet.

“This one reminds me of one my mother had.”

“I think that's the prettiest one,” Maddie said, smiling in pleasure and then turning to look at Jace. “Is your mother still alive?”

“No, she and my father died when I was young.”

“Who raised you?”

“My sister. She was in town a few weeks back, but I didn't get a chance to introduce you.”

“Is she quite a bit older than you are?”

“Ten years.”

It wasn't a romantic conversation in the least, but suddenly their eyes caught and held. Maddie had thought about him so much since Sunday. She had not enjoyed a man's company for many years, and Jace had been such a gentleman.

Jace misunderstood the yearning he saw in her eyes. He looked at her for long moments before lowering his head. Maddie hesitated only a few seconds before moving her head away from him.

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to kiss you,” Jace admitted.

“Why would you do that?”

Jace looked surprised but still said, “You didn't object on our picnic; I didn't think you would object now.”

A thundercloud covered her face. It was swift and fierce.

“Jace Randall! We did no such thing!”

“What?” Jace's mouth swung open in surprise.

“Is that what you tell people?” she attacked. “That I kissed you?”

“I do not talk to other people about us.” Jace's voice had grown cold as his own anger mounted. “But we did kiss, and now you're pretending we didn't. What game are you playing, Maddie?”

“
Me?”
she all but screeched at him. “I ought to slap your face.”

“You'd better not slap me until you're willing to explain to me what that was on Sunday if it wasn't a kiss.”

“Get out” was all Maddie would say.

“Gladly,” Jace slapped the hat back on his head, turned on his heel, and stalked out.

Maddie had all she could do not to throw something at his back. She didn't know the last time she'd been so angry. When Cathy checked on her an hour later, she was still slamming drawers and cupboard doors.

Jace couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a headache. He felt betrayed and almost used. Why would Maddie play such childish games with him? It had been true that she wasn't at her best, but to deny the whole thing seemed very juvenile to his mind.

He shook his head, but that only made it hurt more. Woody thought he understood women.
Just go see her and see how she
responds to you.
Jace remembered the words with disgust. She had responded just fine until the games began.

It was all Jace could do not to turn around and remind her that
men
were supposed to be the ones who lied and cheated. He wondered how she would view her own behavior. If that wasn't lying and cheating, he didn't know what was.

Jace suddenly stopped his horse. He'd been letting the animal find its own way home, barely even holding the reins.

“What if she doesn't know?” he whispered, not paying any attention to who might be around listening to him talk to himself. “What if she can't recall what we did?”

If Jace thought his head hurt before, he didn't know what to think now. And suddenly he was thirsty. Changing the direction of his mount, he headed back to town and the Commons Tavern.

He needed to sit with a tall mug and think this through. He wouldn't get drunk, even though it was tempting. He might just need to head back to the Shephards and confront Maddie again. And for that he certainly needed a clear head.

Eight

Two things were obvious to Doyle and Cathy: Maddie was upset about something, and she wasn't ready to talk about it. Her demeanor was quiet and sober during tea, and her answers to their questions were nothing more than monosyllabic replies.

It had never been their policy to pressure her into talking, but tonight they were both tempted. The mystery began to unravel as they worked on the dishes. A knock on the door startled Maddie into suddenly throwing her dishtowel onto the table.

“If that's Jace, I don't want to see him.”

“Why not?” Doyle asked.

“Because he's like all other men,” Maddie said, her face growing dark again.

Confused, Doyle and Cathy looked at each other before the knock sounded again. Cathy went to the door, and just as she dreaded, Jace was standing there.

“Good evening, Cathy,” Jace's voice saying it was anything but. “I need to speak with Madalyn.”

“She doesn't want to see you, Jace,” Cathy said, her voice quiet with regret.

“Is that right? Well, you may tell her that I'm not leaving until I've gotten some things off my chest.”

He looked so fierce—more handsome than ever—that Cathy almost smiled.

“Come in,” she invited him and watched him take a chair in the parlor. Before she could get out of the room, Maddie had joined them.

“I told you I didn't want to see him,” Maddie took one look at Jace and accused her aunt.

“This has nothing to do with Cathy,” Jace cut in. “And I'm not leaving until you've heard me out.”

Maddie would have spoken but she heard the door just then and turned to see that Cathy had deserted her ship. She had gone back to the kitchen, where Doyle waited, and shut the parlor door behind her.

“What do you remember about the picnic?” Jace asked her when she turned back to glare at him.

“What?” Maddie said, immediately disarmed.

“What do you remember about our picnic? What did we do? What did we talk about?”

“I don't know.” She sounded as frustrated as she was. “We were in the wagon and then we stopped at the field. You had food for us.”

“Do you remember the little brown flask?”

Maddie heard Jace's quiet, serious voice, looked into his face, and calmed some, even going so far as to take a seat. She didn't want to argue with this man, and if his face was any indication, he was as miserable as she.

“A little brown flask?”

“Yes, you drank out of it.”

“I remember now. I nearly choked, but then I was warmer.”

“Maddie, how much alcohol do you normally drink?”

“I don't drink any alcohol, not even hard cider. I don't like the way it tastes.”

Jace stared at her, desperately regretting what had happened. Maddie looked back at him for a full minute, her eyes growing wide when she realized what he was saying. Her hand came to her face, her mind desperately trying to remember.

“I can't remember a thing,” she whispered. “I recall eating and then getting cold, and then we were home, and I thought how nice you had been.”

Jace's expression changed to one of regret. Seeing it, Maddie rose slowly, her own face losing all color.

“Jace, did we…?” she couldn't finish the question, so horrifying were her thoughts.

“No.” Jace's voice was completely tender as he rose and went to her. He took her hand. “We kissed. I swear to you that is all we did. I didn't plan for that to happen, but you fell against me, and it did. I'm sorry.”