Moonlight on the Millpond (20 page)

Nine

Jace's distraction with Maddie made him completely blind to the efforts of Doyle Shephard and Woody Randall. Once again, Jace and Woody had been invited to Sunday dinner with the Shephards. It was a great meal with lively conversation and laughter.

When Jace found himself alone in the store with Maddie after dinner, he actually believed he had maneuvered it on his own. He completely missed the way Doyle suggested that Maddie show Jace the new saws at the store, and then the way Woody said he needed to stay still and put his feet up for a time.

Jace's heart raced as he followed the shapely woman upstairs to the storage rooms above. His mind was not on any merchandise the store carried but on keeping the promise he'd made to Maddie a few weeks back.

“I think this is what Doyle wanted you to see,” Maddie said, not suspicious of anything. “He's had these for some time now but not put them out. He must want you to see them first.”

Jace forced himself to look at the saws, but his concentration didn't last long. Maddie stood nearby as innocent as she could be, but Jace was too aware of her presence. He glanced up, and when she smiled at him, he gave up all pretense.

“How awake are you today?” he asked.

“How awake am I?” Maddie questioned in confusion.

“Um hm. Are you a little tired or sleepy?”

“No, not at all.” She still frowned at him in question.

“How about your bruises? Feeling better?”

“Yes, I barely notice them.”

Jace didn't say anything after that, only staring at her until Maddie took a step back.

“You're going the wrong way, Miss Shephard,” he said softly. “You need to move over here.”

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Maddie said, her heart beating fast for more than one reason. She was a little scared but also excited.

“I don't mind chasing you,” Jace told her, moving a step closer to her. “I don't mind at all, but somehow I don't think you need to be chased.”

“Is that right?” Maddie's chin suddenly rose in the air. “A girl has one little indiscretion that is no fault of her own, and now you think she wants to be caught.”

Jace smiled. She was so lovely and delightful. And when she smiled or teased him, her eyes commanded his complete attention.

“What are you grinning at?” Maddie demanded. “All I have to do is move to the stairs and out the door and this conversation is over.”

“You'll never make it,” Jace told her, and Maddie could see he was right. Nevertheless, she had to try. She scooted toward the stairs, only to be caught in five steps, Jace's arms coming around her.

If she expected him to be rough, she was surprised. He caught her with complete gentleness, his hand to her wrist, before pulling her against him. Maddie deliberately let her head fall back as she looked up at him. Jace needed no other invitation.

He kissed and held her for a long time. And between kisses, he whispered soft words to her, telling her how beautiful she was, how soft and desirable. Maddie didn't resist. She had no thoughts of resisting. She kissed Jace right back, her arms tight around his neck, wishing it could last forever.

When at last they broke apart, they were both breathless, standing a few feet apart, knowing that to continue would be serious.

“I think it's time,” Jace told her.

“For me to go down the stairs?”

“Yes.”

Maddie nodded and moved on her way, her legs shaking a little. Jace remembered at the last minute to look one more time at the saws, fearing Doyle would ask what he thought.

He need not have worried. Back at the house, the others were in conversation so deep that they appeared not to notice the younger couple returning. Jace found himself relieved by this, since he didn't notice Maddie's hair until they were back in the parlor. One look at her and anyone would know that they had done more than talk.

Much as he wanted to be with her, Jace was all too pleased to exit when Woody said he was ready to head for home.

Much to Maddie's surprise, she fell asleep almost instantly that night. It had been a wonderful day, a day she wanted to lie still and think about, but her body had other ideas. Unfortunately sleep lasted only halfway through the night. A noise woke her, and with it came worry. And not just worry, but panic.

I don't really know him!
Maddie told herself, her heart rate speeding up.
He's going to make me fall in love with him and then
leave. I'll just get hurt again. I'm sure of it. He'll turn out to be just
like Cliff from Boston. He tells me he loves me, but he doesn't; not
truly.

Maddie lay in the dark, miserable and sure that the misery was only going to grow. She listened carefully, hoping that Doyle or Cathy might be up, but the house was silent. She felt desperate to talk but didn't want to wake anyone.

It made for a very long night. Alone and lonely, Maddie lay in her bed and remembered every lie Cliff had whispered to her. By morning, she had all but convinced herself that Jace was the same type of man.

Douglas Muldoon was at the store bright and early on Tuesday morning. He didn't have a lot of money in his pocket, but he was still determined to find a small gift for Alison. She hadn't been feeling well lately, and he wanted a little something to show her that he noticed how hard she worked, even when she was tired.

Cathy was planning to man the store that morning but had developed a sudden headache. Maddie had been happy to go instead, and when Mr. Muldoon walked in, she greeted him without making any connection to Hillary.

“Good morning. May I help you?”

“Good morning,” he said kindly, realizing he'd been expecting Cathy. “You must be Miss Shephard.”

“I am Miss Shephard, but you can call me Maddie.”

“My daughter, Hillary, tells me you're a very great help.”

“Are you Mr. Muldoon?” Maddie asked, taken by surprise but thinking swiftly.

“I am.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Muldoon. I like your Hillary very much.”

“I like her too,” he said with a smile, and Maddie laughed.

“What can I help you with today?”

“Well, I'm looking for a small gift for my wife. Just a little something to make her smile.”

“Is she sad?” Maddie asked without thinking that she might be prying.

“Not at all,” Douglas answered with another smile. “I just want her to know how much I appreciate her.”

Thinking he was nothing like she expected, Maddie stared at him for a moment, and then wondered if she'd misunderstood; maybe Hillary had not said her father was a pastor.

“That's very kind of you,” Maddie said softly, genuinely impressed. “Does she like ribbon or maybe a bit of lace?”

“I was rather hoping to find something she wouldn't choose for herself.”

Maddie thought for a moment and then took a small bottle from the shelf.

“This is a perfume bottle. Would she enjoy something like that?”

“I don't know. She isn't overly fond of scents for the skin.”

“All right,” Maddie continued, still thinking. “How about a crystal ink pot? We have clear or two colors of blue. Does she enjoy writing letters?”

“She enjoys writing letters very much,” Douglas answered with pleasure. “I wouldn't have thought of that.”

“Then maybe she wouldn't think to buy it either,” Maddie suggested.

Douglas agreed to the light blue ink pot and counted out the money. While the transaction was taking place, he said, “I think Hillary was right.”

“About what?”

“About what a great help you are.”

Maddie smiled, but her mind was still on who this man was. She knew she had to be careful, but he didn't seem the type to offend too easily.

“Did Hillary tell me that you're a pastor?”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, causing Maddie to laugh a bit but also giving her the boldness to say, “May I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“Does anyone ever ask you about heaven?”

Douglas nodded and said, “Often.”

“So you believe heaven exists?” Maddie leaned a bit across the counter, not even aware she was doing so.

“I'm so glad you asked me,” Douglas surprised her by saying. “I do believe heaven exists, but only because of the way I view the Bible. Does that make sense, Maddie?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, I don't base my belief on some blind hope or empty promise. In Scripture, God and Jesus speak repeatedly about heaven, so I can be confident it's there.”

Maddie had never thought about it from that angle. She stared at Douglas Muldoon for several seconds, working on this new thought.

“May I ask you a question, Maddie?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you believe heaven is there?”

“I don't know,” she answered honestly, although it embarrassed her to admit it.

Douglas nodded. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Please.”

“Don't start by trying to pin down the existence of heaven, start by figuring out how you view God's Word.”

“Why would I start there?”

“Here's my reasoning: I find that the way I feel about the author of a book gives me a bias as I read. If from experience I know they have good things to say, I read with an open mind. I believe the Bible to be the Word of God, which makes me sit up and listen to every word inside, whether it be about heaven or some other subject.”

“I've been going about this all wrong,” Maddie said, and Douglas could tell she was speaking mainly to herself. He might have left her on her own to think, but she was still holding the ink pot she'd wrapped in paper for him.

“Maddie?” Douglas finally spoke up.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Here's your package.”

“Did I say something to upset you, because that wasn't my intent.”

“No, nothing like that. I just hadn't viewed it from that angle before, and it takes some getting used to.”

“Maddie,” Douglas said, his voice turning warm with compassion and caring. “If you have any more questions, I'd be happy to hear them. Anytime, actually.”

“You don't mind questions? You don't think I'm faithless?”

“We haven't talked about what you put your faith in, Maddie, so I wouldn't try to figure that out. But I don't think it's wrong to ask questions, not in the least. In fact, Jesus Christ was the most magnificent question-asker of all time.”

Maddie thanked Douglas and then watched as he went on his way. She, however, did not immediately go back to work. It occurred to her that she might have learned more in a 20-minute conversation with Mr. Muldoon than she had in six months of meetinghouse visits.

Not knowing what to do with the thought, Maddie picked up the broom and did a little cleaning. Someone had finally answered some of her questions, but she didn't feel any more settled than before. Until another customer entered the store, Maddie asked herself why she seemed so hard to please.