“Paige!” Maddie said without thinking.
Hillary Muldoon heard her and stopped.
“Excuse me?”
Maddie shook her head and apologized. “I’m sorry, but you so remind me of a girl I know named Paige, that her name just slipped out.”
Hillary smiled kindly, aware that Maddie still studied her.
“I’m Maddie Shephard,” that lady said, remembering her manners and beginning the formality.
“I’m Hillary Muldoon.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Hillary. Would you be about 16?”
“Only just.”
“And those are your brothers with your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Not in school right now?”
“Our teacher grew ill, and now most kids are needed in the fields, so we closed early this year.”
“You don’t live on a farm?”
“No, my father is a pastor.”
“Where is he a pastor?”
“In our home,” Hillary explained. “We don’t have a meetinghouse yet.”
“Where do you live?”
“In the yellow house down the way.”
“I know the one.”
Hillary smiled at her, liking this woman who seemed young and making her curious about Maddie’s age.
“I just realized that I have some mittens that your mother made,” Maddie said. “She trades them here at the store, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” Hillary said with a bit of pride. “She does beautiful mittens, caps, and scarves.”
“And do you knit as well?”
“Not like Mother does, but I’m learning.”
“I’m sure you’ll be following in her footsteps in no time.”
Hillary had no more thanked her when Martin needed some attention. She walked away from Maddie, hoping they would visit again soon.
Four
Doyle was being foolish and knew it, but he didn’t want to stop. He had gone across the yard and slipped into the door that led to the office. He then sat on the stairs that led up to storage, giving his ears the opportunity to hear almost everything going on in the store. And he’d been enjoying himself, right up until the moment he heard Maddie offer to carry a bag of feed for a customer.
Doyle’s eyes suddenly closed in pain. She shouldn’t be doing that. It’s my job. She’s too little.
With the words came real pain, this time from the region of his chest, his heart rate picking up drastically. Moving while he was still able, he rose painfully to his feet, went back out the door, and crossed the yard again.
Once at the house, he wanted to lie down but knew if Cathy checked on him—something she often did—it would upset her to find him in bed. Instead, he made a beeline for the chair by the kitchen fireplace and sat down heavily.
You’re an old fool. You’re never going to get back down to your store if you pull stunts like that. The speech did not immediately slow his heart, but a few deep breaths and close to 30 minutes later, things seemed back to normal. Only then did strong emotion overtake him. A sob broke in Doyle Shephard’s throat, and tears came to his eyes. For a moment there he thought he was going to die; he thought he’d been done for.
“I don’t want that,” he whispered to the empty room, even as his heart yearned to be out of there and next door. “I don’t want to die.”
Not willing to fight it anymore, Doyle let his eyes close, falling into blissful sleep. He never even heard Cathy when she checked on him a short time later.
It was not going as Jace had planned. He was supposed to have energy to go to town, but planting the fields was sapping all vigor from his body. Having decided on Sunday to marry Maddie Shephard, it was nothing short of maddening not to have time or physical strength even to see her until Thursday.
Now headed into town, Jace had all he could do not to whip the horse into greater action. He had deliberately waited until near closing, catching Cathy and Maddie in the last 30 minutes of store hours. As he had hoped, things were quiet.
“Well, Jace,” Cathy greeted him when he stepped inside.
“How are you, ladies?” Jace spread his smile to encompass both of them.
“Doing well,” Cathy replied, hands busy with a task at the counter.
“How is planting?” Maddie asked, having thought about Jace at odd times during the week.
“We’ve covered plenty of ground, but we’re only about a quarter done.”
“How are your weeds?” Cathy asked.
“Not bad. Woody says we can attribute it to a dry spring.”
A customer came in, and very deliberately Jace moved to Maddie’s counter.
“How was your week?” he asked.
“Busy. It’s gone very fast.”
“It’ll be Sunday before you know it.”
“A day of rest,” Maddie said with a smile, not aware of what that smile did to Jace’s heart. “What can I get for you, Mr. Randall?”
“Madalyn,” Jace said, his voice low and serious.
Maddie stopped and looked at him, his tone and the use of her full name giving her no choice.
“Please call me Jace.”
“You keep telling me that, don’t you?”
Jace nodded and smiled a little.
Maddie’s gaze softened as she apologized. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll remember.”
“And may I call you Maddie?”
“Certainly.”
Jace grinned at her, putting every ounce of charm into that smile. Maddie smiled back before saying, “What can I get you, Jace?”
Jace pulled out his list, and the two of them worked until Cathy closed the doors.
“I’d better get going before you lock me in.”
“Stay for tea,” Cathy invited.
“I’d like that,” Jace said, unable to tell them how much, “but Woody is expecting me back. I’ll just slip by the house and say hello to Doyle and be on my way. Thanks, Cathy. Thanks, Maddie.”
The women bid Jace goodbye, but Maddie stared after him for a long time. Cathy eventually noticed her expression but didn’t comment, at least not then, and certainly not to her niece.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Woody told Jace when he arrived. “Didn’t they invite you to tea?”
“They did, but I hadn’t told you I was going to be gone into the evening.”
Woody’s look was telling. “Jace, you’re not some smooth-skinned lad who’s still answering to his mother. You should have stayed.”
Jace shrugged, feeling irritated that he hadn’t when Woody made it sound so simple. They took their own tea in near silence until Jace remembered he had a letter. Pulling it from his pocket, he read it, finding that it did nothing to improve his mood.
“Oh, no,” he mumbled, putting the paper aside.
“Bad news?”
“Eden’s coming.” Jace’s voice spoke volumes.
“How can she come when she has a boardinghouse to run?”
“One of her tenants already helps her with the cooking, so she just takes over for Eden if she’s ever away.”
“You don’t want her here,” Woody stated plainly.
“No.”
“Why?” Woody asked bluntly, irritated as well and not sure why.
“Eden thinks my life is her business. She says that because I’m not writing to say how I’ve been, she’s coming to find out for herself.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, Jace,” Woody reiterated, not angry now but wanting his nephew to get the point. “You’re your own man, soon to be owner of this farm and the mill. If you don’t want Eden to come, tell her. And if she asks things you don’t want to answer, ignore her.”
Jace nodded, but deep in his heart he knew it wasn’t that easy. Eden had all but raised him; she was much more a parent than a sister. And she was subtle. She could gain answers when you were barely aware that you’d been asked a question. And in all fairness to Eden, Jace did love her. Outside of Woody, she was all the family h
e had.
“Do you mind if she comes?” Jace asked finally.
“Not at all. And if she gets here and runs your life, I’ll not say a word. But she won’t run mine. And if you’re smart, you’ll make it very plain in the first five minutes that you no longer need a mother.”
Jace’s look must have shown skepticism because Woody went on.
“You’ll be 25 on your next birthday, Jace, and I’ve watched you now for months. You’re doing fine, and you’re going to continue to do so. Eden needs to see that you have grown up.”
Jace watched Woody’s head go back over his plate and knew that he would hear no more on the matter. It was Jace’s first choice to write and tell Eden to stay away, but he thought better of it. Having her come to Tucker Mills might be the best thing. That way she could see that he was fine and not worry—not worry and stay in Pine River. He suspected that her visit was for herself and not her younger brother.
“I have to talk to you,” Cathy said that night in the privacy of their bedroom. “Don’t turn the light down yet.”
Doyle stopped his hand from heading that way and looked with concern at his wife. She’d been whispering.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing is the matter, but I saw something today.”
Doyle waited.
“Jace came in.”
“He came to see me,” Doyle reminded her.
“Oh, that’s right, but this happened before he came over here.”
Again Doyle waited.
“I think Jace likes Maddie.”
Doyle smiled and reached for the lantern, but Cathy read the look with ease before the room was covered in darkness.
“Doyle Shephard, what do you know?”
“I know what my eyes tell me.”
“What have you seen?”
“What you’ve seen—Jace’s interest.”
Cathy sighed, a sigh Doyle couldn’t place.
“Is this upsetting to you?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I watched her with him today, and I think she might have noticed him too, but I don’t think she’ll let her heart get involved.”
“Well, we might have to help with that somewhere down the line.”
Cathy’s voice told him she was surprised by this answer. “Doyle, she’s a grown woman, almost two years older than Jace.”
“I’m well aware of everyone’s age, Cathleen.” Doyle’s voice was patient. “We know more about Jace than Maddie does. We know he can be trusted. If we can see that the only thing holding her back is fear, then we need to step in.”
Cathy wasn’t sure she followed his line of reasoning, but suddenly she was tired. With another sigh, she lay down against the pillow.
“Are you going to worry all night?”
“No, I’m too tired for that.”
“Just watch them for now,” Doyle advised, “and don’t say anything. It will probably all take care of itself.”
Again, Cathy wasn’t sure this would work, but she didn’t argue. Getting a little more comfortable and telling her husband goodnight, she willed herself to fall asleep.
They were spending Sunday together again. With things looking much as they had the week before, Cathy now knew why Doyle had invited Woody and Jace to join them for dinner. And what was more, Cathy suspected that Woody was in the know as well.
“Are you reading your Bible?” Jace asked of Maddie. They were once again on their own in the parlor.
“Not actually reading, but looking for a verse that Mr. Sullins used today.”
“Which one?”
“It said something about heaven.”
“And you had a question about that?” Jace asked, not wanting to admit that he hadn’t heard a word of the sermon for looking at the back of her neck and the intricate coils of braids in her hair.
“I just didn’t understand what he meant. It sounded like heaven was only in the apostle Paul’s mind, and that makes me wonder if it’s a real place or not.”
“I wish I could help you, Maddie,” Jace apologized, “but I’m not sure I heard that part.”
“I didn’t hear anything after that,” Maddie admitted. “I was too busy trying to figure it out.”
“Did you attend church in Boston?”
“If the missus wanted the children to go.” Maddie sighed after she said this. “No one there could ever answer my questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Oh, about death and heaven.”
Jace tried not to think about death too often so he knew he couldn’t be of any help to her. He had some beliefs, but they were his own, and he was satisfied with that.
“Did you cut your wrist?” Jace suddenly asked.
Maddie looked down at her lap and studied the back of her left wrist. “Yes, I caught it on a wire yesterday. It was clumsy of me.”
“I think you’re not actually cut out for store work.”
Maddie smiled, not in the least offended. “I was over there every day for the first 17 years of my life.”
“But Doyle did the heavy work.”
“True, but it won’t kill me. I’m sure of that.”
He didn’t love the thought of her hauling crates and merchandise all day, but her hardworking attitude was easy to hear. Farming was hard work for men and women alike. It would include more lifting than was expected in the store. He was glad she wouldn’t shy away from the jobs that came with being a farmer’s wife.
It occurred to him that he hadn’t asked her why she was thinking about heaven and death. He wondered for a moment if Doyle’s condition had anything to do with it but then remembered that she’d had questions in Boston as well.
“I think they’re done outside,” Maddie said absently after hearing the kitchen door. She shut the Bible and listened to footfalls from a distance.
Jace knew a moment of regret. He’d enjoyed being alone with her, not because he was ashamed of his thoughts or what he might do, but because when they were alone, Maddie was somewhat focused on him.
The three other adults joined them a moment later, and Woody said he was ready to go. Jace took his leave as he always did, wondering when he would see Maddie again.
Several hours later Maddie brushed her hair out, thinking about Jace Randall as she readied for bed. Even knowing that she would keep her heart to herself, she had to admit that he was one of the best-looking men she’d ever met.
For a moment, his green eyes swam into her mind, and she thought about the way his hair fell across his forehead, always looking a little messy but also rather fetching.
Maddie sat up straight, the train of her thoughts not amusing her in the least. What’s the matter with you? He’s not to be trusted. Not him or any man!
Ruthlessly pulling with the brush, Maddie finished her hair in a no-nonsense way, turned the light down, and climbed into bed. She wasn’t tired enough to fall right to sleep, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was that she had a will strong enough to keep Jace Randall completely from her mind.
“Douglas?” Alison called from the stairs before walking all the way down. She checked the parlor and her husband’s study and found them both empty. The kitchen was next, but he wasn’t there either. The door, however, was not completely closed. Alison put her head out and found her husband standing in the semidark moonlight at the side of their house.
“Douglas?” she whispered as she joined him.
“Come here.” He held open his arm, and she slipped under it to be pulled against his side.
“Are you praying for Tucker Mills?” she asked.
“And for us.”
“Us the church family or us the Muldoon family?”
She watched him smile before saying, “Yes.”
“Do you ever get discouraged?”
“Just with myself,” Douglas admitted. “I get impatient for answers and want things to happen. It’s too easy to forget that I’m not in charge.”
“I pray for you.”
??
?I can tell that you do.” He turned his head enough to kiss her brow. “Kids all down?”
“Yes, it’s nice and quiet.”
“Was that an invitation, Mrs. Muldoon?”
“It might be,” she teased as she scooted out from under his arm.
Alison reached the kitchen door ahead of him, but just barely. His own worries and troubles retreating from his mind, Douglas was right on her heels.
Jace was in the fields with Woody when he spotted her. She hadn’t said when she was coming, and it was quite a walk from the train station, but she had done it. Eden Randall had come to Tucker Mills.
“I would have picked you up,” Jace said as she neared. “You didn’t say what day you were arriving.”
Eden only smiled, not wanting him to know what week she was coming.
“You’ve filled out,” she commented, touching his arm, “but your face is leaner.”
Jace shrugged a little, pleased by her words but not telling her so.
“Hello, Eden,” Woody called as he came around the barn.
“Hello, Uncle Woodruff.”
“He goes by Woody,” Jace said as that man came to shake her hand.
“It’s good to see you,” Eden told him with a smile.
“Welcome to Tucker Mills,” Woody said, surprised at what a fine-looking woman Eden Randall was. From the way Jace had talked, Woody had been expecting a spinsterish old shrew.
“Come inside. Clara’s still here. I’m sure she’s got the kettle on.”
“Clara?” Eden turned to Jace with raised brows, only to find her brother mute. He smiled at her and brought up the rear.
Right then and there, Eden knew fear. Jace had been telling her everything she wanted to know for as long as she could remember. When he’d left Pine River last October, he’d said he would write, but only one letter had come and nearly none of her questions had been answered. She wrote to him every week with inquiries about his life, but nothing came of it. Not even threatening to come to Tucker Mills had forced Jace to write.