The Wedding Gift (10 page)

I
n some far corner of Madeline's mind she was aware of birdsong and the indescribably sweet scent of apple blossoms wafting through the windows, but Orchard Hill fully enveloped in the embrace of a May morning wasn't her main concern. She had something far more pressing on her mind.

She raced through her newly rented house, careful of the boxes waiting to be unpacked. Unpacking wasn't her greatest concern this morning, either. Right now, her first priority was opening the small package she'd purchased after Summer and the boys had left last night after helping her move across town.

Hopping from foot to foot in her new bathroom, she tore the cellophane wrapper with her teeth and ripped the top of the box off then hurriedly read the directions. In almost no time, she was staring at the wand in her hand.

Negative.

She looked closer, as if to catch the results in the act of changing. The dash sign in the little window remained an unwavering blue.

She wasn't pregnant.

She read the directions again just to be sure she'd followed them correctly, for she'd been late before, but never an entire week. That negative sign left little room for doubt.

Dropping the home pregnancy kit, wand and all into the wastebasket, she let the fact that she wasn't pregnant soak in. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to decide how she felt about the results.

It wasn't disappointment
or
relief she was experiencing. What then? It was hard to place a name on what she felt, because nothing had felt quite right since she'd returned home to Orchard Hill three weeks ago.

She'd left Gale quietly that day, her heart aching and her pride in a shambles. Carrying the silence with her, she'd clutched the steering wheel with both hands and relived every conversation, every kiss, every moment of those four days she'd had with Riley.

Because she'd left the radio off, she'd had no idea a tornado warning had been issued for four counties in lower Michigan. She'd practically driven into town on the tornado's tail, and had arrived to downed power lines and missing roofs and mangled trees. The O'Malleys' orchard east of town had been hit hard, but luckily for Madeline's family the tornado skirted their eastern boundary then followed the river before fizzling.

The storm had been the talk of the town ever since. By the time anybody noticed, really noticed, that Madeline was back, she'd been home long enough to make asking about her trip seem anti-climactic.

Anti-climactic was probably a good way to describe how she felt this morning. It stood to reason the pregnancy test would be negative, for Riley had seen to protection, well, all but that last time in the shower.

Tears came to her eyes. She never used to cry so easily, one of the reasons she'd been convinced the results would be a plus sign, not a negative one. Of course, she knew better than anyone that there were other reasons for her emotions to be frayed.

She missed him.

How could she miss someone she'd only known a matter of days? Okay, she'd shared more with Riley
in a matter of days than she had with anyone else in her life, but it wasn't as if they had a history together.

Four days did not a history make.

He'd been shocked, understandably so, when he'd discovered her connection to Aaron and his new heart. She wasn't surprised he'd jumped to conclusions, and she wasn't surprised he'd been angry. Although she hadn't known him long, she knew him well enough to know that he didn't say things he didn't mean, not even in anger. His words had reduced their time together to meaningless sex.

It hadn't been meaningless to her.

That hurt. She was getting real tired of feeling hurt.

From now on she was taking charge of her life. Moving from the safety of the quiet attic apartment in Summer's inn had been an important step. She'd accepted a job with Emily Richmond, the new midwife in town. And she was going out with her friends more. One of these days, she might even ride the mechanical bull everyone was talking about.

She wasn't sure about bungee jumping, but scuba diving sounded like fun. She and her friends were saving for a vacation in Hawaii. She might try surfing, too.

She wasn't going to play it safe all the time anymore.

It was difficult for anybody to imagine themselves old, but she'd had a vague sense that she would own
a large sleepy cat and would take up quiet activities like quilting and knitting and puzzles. Now, she was thinking she'd like a dog. She was going to live a noisy, messy life. If she made mistakes, at least she would have interesting stories to tell in her old age.

All she had to do now was stop thinking about Riley morning, noon and night. Yesterday she thought she saw his dog chasing a squirrel in a little park on Village Street. Twice she thought she'd glimpsed a silver Porsche disappearing around a corner.

Chalking it up to her imagination running wild, she looked at the boxes waiting to be unpacked. She had plenty to do today to settle into her little bungalow. She was going to enjoy living here. From now on, if she wanted to play her music loud, she could. If she wanted to walk around naked, she would.

Like someone she used to know.

That was what Riley was now, someone she used to know. In time he would be part fond memory, part figment of her imagination.

Perhaps in a hundred years.

 

If Madeline hurried, she would have time to return the casserole dish to her new neighbor before Summer arrived to pick her up for a girls' night at the movies. It wasn't exactly girls gone wild, but she was
looking forward to the Friday evening with her friends.

She locked the door behind her and turned around, only to stop. Instantly. In her tracks.

It wasn't her imagination.

A brown dog stood in her driveway, his knobby tail wagging excitedly. Riley stood next to him, feet apart, hands on his hips, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

While she was recovering her equilibrium, the friendly dog pattered over to say hello. She bent down, and for the first time in three weeks she laughed aloud at the wet tongue tickling her cheek and neck.

“Heel, Gulliver,” Riley said.

Wiping dog kisses off her face, tears stung Madeline's eyes. He'd named his dog, she thought. He'd called him Gulliver, like the traveler. It suited him.

Refusing to let Riley see what his unannounced visit was doing to her, she straightened her spine. What a relief, she still had a spine. Fighting the urge to fidget, she said, “What are you doing here?”

“You cut your hair.”

She supposed she couldn't blame her hand for going unbidden to her hair. What else was her hand supposed to do when her brain refused to function properly?

His hair had been cut recently, too. It didn't make
him look any more civilized. Although he probably paid more for the clothes and sunglasses he was wearing than she had for her first month's rent, he'd projected the same air of in-your-face confidence in jogging pants and a faded T-shirt. Apparently he wasn't shaving every day anymore. It made him seem more rugged, more dangerous.

“How did you know where to find me? I've only lived in this house for twenty-four hours.”

“I saw you moving in yesterday.”

So his car hadn't been a figment of her imagination, either. “You've been following me?”

“It isn't as if I parked down the street and spied on you through binoculars.”

She felt the needle poke of a guilty conscience as she marched down her driveway, her nose in the air. She almost made it past him before his hand snagged her arm.

Her heart lurched; her body remembered his touch. She couldn't see his eyes through his dark glasses, but she could see a vein pulsing in his neck, could sense the change in his breathing, too.

“What are you doing here, Riley?” she asked again.

“You left before those five days were up.”

She bristled and shook his arm off. “The time has expired.”

She could have kissed Summer when she pulled up
just then. Head held high, Madeline walked the remaining distance to the curb and got in the waiting car.

She couldn't help glancing out the window as they drove away. Riley had removed his dark glasses and was looking at her, the leash in his right hand, an expression of dark intensity on his lean face.

“Who was that?” Summer Matthews had a deep sultry voice that could make ordering a sandwich sound like a dark secret.

“Gulliver.” Madeline sniffled at the poignancy of it all.

Madeline and Summer were the same size, from their rings, to their clothes, even their shoes. They understood one another better than any sister could have, but even Summer was having trouble following Madeline's train of thought. “Is Gulliver his first name or last?”

“Gulliver is the dog,” Madeline explained. “The man is Riley Merrick.”

Summer's eyebrows rose in two perfect arches above her large hazel eyes. “What's he doing here?”

When she'd first arrived home three weeks ago, Madeline had described Riley's house, his car, his dog, his friend, even his mother to Summer in great detail, but all she'd said about sex was that she'd had it. Sometimes what a person didn't say said the most.

“I'm not sure,” Madeline said thoughtfully. His
mention of their five days had alluded to sex, but he'd probably done that to gage her reaction. What
was
he doing in Orchard Hill?

“Aren't you curious?” Summer asked.

“Are you kidding? It was all I could do to get in this car and let you drive away.”

The former Madeline, the one living the safe, orderly life would have stayed in the driveway making understanding noises with her tongue. She would have made this easy for Riley. But the Madeline just beginning to emerge, the one destined to live a noisy, messy and full life was going to wait to see what he was going to do next.

She put the empty casserole dish on her lap so she could rub her hands together. Her new messy life was already getting interesting.

 

Word traveled fast. The man who'd received Aaron Andrews's heart was in Orchard Hill.

It was Riley Merrick this and Riley Merrick that.

At first everyone spoke his name in a whisper, as if to soften the imminent pain the mention of him and how he pertained to Aaron's heart would undoubtedly incur. They didn't know that Madeline had known his identity since the night Aaron died.

It started with the clerk at the window in the post office where she went to change her mailing address
on Saturday morning. “Now Madeline,” Celia Bundy said, her double chin quivering above the collar of her postal uniform, “I don't know how to tell you this, so I'll just come out and say it. There's a man in town. Asking questions.”

“What kind of questions?” Madeline asked.

“About Aaron.” This was delivered with a gentle pat on Madeline's shoulder. “It's the man who got his heart, dear. His name is Riley Merrick.”

“What did you tell him?”

Luckily nobody was behind her in line, because Celia, whose husband, Raymond, had been the chief of police until his retirement last year, launched into the tale she'd shared with Riley about the time somebody had painted the f-word and signed Madeline's name on the rusted old water tower the city had deserted years earlier. Aaron had gotten caught with white paint on his hands. Nobody could believe it, but evidence was evidence.

“To this day Raymond remembers how you rode your bicycle to the police station and dragged him outside and asked him to take you to the old water tower. Of course, we all felt bad for you, having lost your mom and dad like you did. Not even that tough old bird could deny your tearful request. Imagine Ray's surprise when he got there and saw that the profanity had been painted over with white paint.”
With a sniffle, Celia said, “You and Aaron always did watch out for each other.”

Madeline felt a shiver go up her spine, but she smiled gently and said, “Yes, we did.”

Bonnie, the checker at the IGA store, patted Madeline's shoulder, too, only she'd shared a different story about Aaron, this one about the winning curve ball he'd pitched in the final game their senior year. By the time Madeline walked into The Hill, the restaurant where she was meeting Summer and two other friends for lunch, she'd heard Riley Merrick's name a dozen times.

The Hill was nothing like Fiona's Bistro in Gale. If a person wanted finer dining in Orchard Hill, they drove across the river to the college side of town. The Hill's décor was Americana Diner. The tables were square, the food was fresh and hot, and the service was good. As usual, the place was packed today.

Summer, Chelsea Reynolds and Abby Fitzpatrick were already seated when Madeline arrived. Chelsea and Abby looked worriedly at her as she slid onto the bench seat next to Summer. “Have you heard?” Chelsea asked.

Before Madeline could answer, the object of discussion appeared at their table. “Hello, Madeline,” Riley said.

She looked up at him, for surely he'd been fol
lowing her again. “There are laws against stalking,” she said.

“I just finished my lunch.” He pointed to a table across the aisle set with a used place setting for one.

Chelsea and Abby looked from the well-dressed Adonis to Madeline. They had no idea who he was. And yet they slid over to make room for him.

Before taking the seat opposite Madeline, he slanted them both one of his devastating smiles, the one that showcased the shape of his wide mouth and called attention to the slight indentation in his chin. “It seems the cat's got Madeline's tongue. I'm Riley Merrick. I'm the guy who got Aaron's heart.”

Madeline could appreciate the way Abby's and Chelsea's mouths were hanging open. “You're making quite an impact on the town,” she said.

“It's nice to know you're still a fan.”

“Do you two know each other?” Abby asked.