Maggie Meets Her Match

Home > Other > Maggie Meets Her Match > Page 12
Maggie Meets Her Match Page 12

by McLeod, Dinah


  “I reckon I’ll manage.” This time, smiling felt a little more natural. I supposed one day it wouldn’t feel strange at all to smile even though my heart was breaking.

  “Alrighty then. I’ll catch up to you real quick.” He let go of my arm and offered a brief, parting smile before heading up the stairs and veering toward my brother.

  I tightened my grip on the railing, taking my time walking up the stairs. I’d just reached the top when I was jostled from behind. I still hadn’t quite got my balance back, and I spread my arms wide, searching for something to use to steady myself.

  “Oh, Lordy-Lord!” I heard a voice exclaim from behind me. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

  I turned around and felt my heart leap to my throat before dropping all the way down to my stomach. I stood there, gaping as I stared into the face of Lydia Harris. She’d aged, sure, but it was her, alright. She had the same soft brown hair, the same wide, lively eyes.

  “Are you alright?” she repeated, not seeming to recognize me. “My boy here has a knack for bein’ clumsy.” She cupped her hands around his shoulders protectively.

  I turned my attention to the little boy. I blinked in surprise and then again. My vision swam, and I felt myself wobbling on my feet.

  “John, go and help her,” I heard Lydia say, her voice sounding very far away.

  I started to shake my head, but an arm reached out, steadying me. I could barely make out the man who was my rescuer, but I followed as he led me to the shaded part of the porch, away from the crowd of oncoming churchgoers.

  How odd that I should run into her today, of all days, when I was just on the verge of feelin’ like myself again. My mind swam, picking out a memory. In my mind’s eye, I traveled back in time, sliding over the years until I could clearly see the last time I’d talked to Lydia Harris. She’d dropped by the house unannounced, even though she was the last person I wanted to see with everything that was going on with Joshua.

  It had been on the day of the shoot-out; she’d stopped by just as calm as you please even though I was worryin’ myself near to death. Still, I’d invited her in and offered tea, just like my mama had always taught me. While we were sipping tea and making idle chitchat, Mama had happened in on the pair of us. If she’d been surprised to see me sitting with the woman who was the source of my troubles, she’d never said so. Instead, she’d invited Lydia in the parlor, but the girl had demurred.

  “I have to be goin’ soon,” she said, and Mama excused herself to let us talk. “I had to come by to see how you were farin’,” she explained, sipping her tea.

  “That was kind of you,” I replied woodenly.

  “Not really. I just thought… I thought only that you… well, next to me, you’re the only one who’d understand…” She trailed off and flushed bright red, but I knew what she was trying to say.

  She meant that I was the only one who could understand how heartsick she was over this whole affair. I looked into her face and thought that it was much like looking into a mirror. Her hair was the color of dirty straw and she had a smattering of freckles. Her eyes were green instead of blue, but I suspected my own were just as wide with fear, my pallor just as white. And maybe she had more reason to fear, I thought begrudgingly, for either way the bullet flew, she lost someone dear to her.

  “Maggie, Joshua and I were courting before he started ridin’ over here to see you.”

  I drew back, shocked that she would lie so baldly to my face. “That just isn’t true, Lydia Harris, and it’s time you acknowledge the corn!”

  “I’m not lyin’!” she insisted, looking just as incensed as she was. “What would I lie for?”

  “Because you need a father for your bastard.” Even I was shocked at how vilely I spoke.

  Color dotted Lydia’s cheeks and she glared at me with bright, angry eyes. “I don’t blame you for feelin’ as you do. I s’pect I would, too, if I knew I was the second choice.” As quickly as she’d thrown the barb, she seemed to regret it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come to fuss with you.”

  There was a thousand things I could’ve said, that I wanted to say, but instead I asked, “How far along are you?”

  “My eighth month, by my count.”

  “But…” I looked up at her, my face imploring. “That means you couldn’t have… Joshua and I…” I trailed off, still desperately hoping she’d tell me she was lying.

  Instead, she stayed quiet, staring at me stoically, even as a hand rested protectively on her belly.

  “What did your father say?” I asked, curious despite myself.

  She smiled faintly. “You didn’t hear? I reckoned everyone heard me crying clear across town. He spanked me good,” she admitted.

  I was bitter enough toward her to feel meanly glad about that. “Why would he court me, if he already…” I felt like the worst kind of two-timer for even asking such a question. I squirmed with the sudden feeling that I was being disloyal to Joshua by even listening to her nonsense.

  The tips of her ears reddened, and I wondered if she was remembering the embraces that had brought her into a family way. “I can’t account for the ways of a man.”

  I couldn’t take any more of this blarney and didn’t care how rude it was as I pushed my teacup back and stood. “Thank you for comin’. I’ll be sure to pass along your regards to my pa and brother.”

  She didn’t seem one bit surprised and got to her feet, holding on to the arm of the chair for balance. “Thank you for the tea. Tell your mama those biscuits were mighty fine.”

  I’d nodded stiffly and showed her to the door, as manners said I must.

  Lydia offered me a polite smile and turned to leave. Her hand was on the door when she froze. She didn’t look at me as she said, “He used to call me his desert rose. He said that the only thing softer than my skin—”

  “Was the morning rain,” I finished, feeling my throat close up painfully.

  Lydia had nodded and left in a swirl of petticoats. The minute she was gone from sight, I’d dropped to the floor, my head in my hands. She was lying. She had to be. But then, how could she know the words he’d whispered for my ears alone?

  “Ma’am? Is there someone I can get for you?”

  I came back to the present with a jolt, wide-eyed as I looked at the man who spoke to me. I saw who I assumed must be Lydia’s husband looking at me with concern. I shook my head, my mouth working but no sound coming out. Finally, I managed. “I’ll be fine. Thank you kindly.”

  He looked at me dubiously, looking like he was debating the truth of it. As he stood there, watching me, Lydia and her son approached.

  I snuck another peek at him and felt chills course throughout my body. I could hardly believe the resemblance. The same jet dark hair, the same piercing gray eyes… he was young, nine or so by my guess, but I could already see that he would grow up to have his father’s shrewd good looks.

  “He looks just like…” I met Lydia’s eyes in wonderment, hardly daring to say the name aloud.

  She peered closer at me, and after a moment her mouth rounded in an O. “Oh, my word! It’s you, isn’t it? Maggie? Maggie Swift?”

  “Callahan now,” I replied weakly.

  “John!” She tugged the man’s sleeve excitedly. “This is Maggie Swift.”

  Suddenly, his face changed. It was subtle, but I saw it all the same, the way his face quickly closed where it had been friendly just moments ago. He nodded briskly, not saying anything more and I realized with a pang that he probably knew exactly who I was, had heard all about me. The intended to the man who’d fathered Lydia’s child. For all my protesting those many years ago, there was no denying the resemblance. They were two peas.

  “We’re back in town for a few days, visitin’ my folks,” Lydia said in a voice that was almost too lively. Everyone in town knew that she’d been thrown out in disgrace shortly after her son was born. “This is my husband, John.”

  I took in the measure of the man. He was tall, and seemed to be of a friendly
disposition. He was lean in all the places that a man should be, and reminded me more than a little of someone she and I had in common. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Ma’am.” He tipped his hat and was content thereafter to stay silent.

  “How have you been, Maggie?”

  “Well.” It was the only word that could force itself from my lips. I only had eyes for the boy, who stayed as silent as her husband.

  “So are we,” she said with a laugh.

  Something in her voice made me turn to face her and only then did I notice her large, rounded belly, which she patted with affection. “You’re…”

  “Expecting,” she answered, her eyes twinkling. “The doc reckons it’ll be soon.”

  My throat closed and all I could do was nod.

  John tugged at Lydia’s arm, and she smiled at me again. “We better scoot on in, don’t wanna be late. It was so good to see you, Maggie.”

  “You too.” They had turned to leave and were walking into the church when I couldn’t resist. “Lydia?”

  She turned to me, a question in her eyes.

  “What… what’s his name? Is it—”

  “David,” she interjected quickly, still keeping his name off our lips.

  “He’s… a fine boy.”

  Her smile seemed a little sad. “Why, many thanks, Maggie.”

  When she’d gone, I sank to the ground, my arms wrapped around my stomach, not caring who saw or what they’d say.

  I don’t know how long I sat like that, torn between crying and feeling numb, before Clayborn came looking for me.

  “Maggie?”

  When I met his eyes, I saw him flinch. “Yes?”

  “Ah, you not up for makin’ the service?”

  Wordlessly, I shook my head. I couldn’t go in there with all those people and pretend to be good and well. Such a façade would surely crumble to nothing but dust if I were to try.

  “Alright. Let’s get you home.”

  I didn’t protest as he helped me to my feet and led me to the buggy. Home sounded mighty fine right now; I longed for my bed the way a dying man longs for a long swallow of water.

  It wasn’t until we were home that he turned to me, asking the question that I knew must come. “What happened back there?”

  “Nothin’,” I muttered, trying to push past him.

  He caught me and held me close. “Not nothin’ if you’re on the porch of the church bawlin’.”

  “I didn’t cry,” I said, even as I knew it was beside the point.

  “Answer me, Maggie.”

  “Nothin’, alright? I just lost a baby, Clayborn! I’m sorry that it’s something you can dust yourself off from so quickly, but I can’t!” I tried to pull myself free, but his grip tightened.

  “I thought we were over this, Maggie.”

  “Well, I’m not! I don’t know that I ever will be!” This time, I summoned the strength to free myself—or he was ready to let me go. Whichever, it didn’t matter to me. I was free to go into the house and find the bed, all soft and waiting for me, the only constant in my grief.

  Chapter Seven

  I had a lot on my mind as I rode for the Swift place. I was hopin’ that puttin’ a bit of space between Maggie and me would help air things out a bit, though it wouldn’t do much to solve the actual problem. Truth was, I found myself at a loss and it wasn’t a feeling I was used to. I knew with certainty that it wasn’t one I liked overly.

  I knew why she was upset—hell, if I was upset, she had every right to be. I knew she was disappointed, but beyond that, I couldn’t understand why she was behavin’ this way. So cold and distant, crying constantly. What’s more, if I couldn’t figure it out soon, I was sure she’d waste away to nothin’ because I hadn’t seen her eat a bite of food in nearly a week. She didn’t eat, she didn’t clean house or even get out of bed. She slept or pretended to be sleepin’.

  Maybe I could mention… but no. It wouldn’t do to have her brother thinking that I couldn’t handle my own wife. Even if my wife was his sister, it wouldn’t do to ask another man for help. I’d have to figure this ‘un out on my own.

  As I rode toward the fields, I could see a figure bent over inspecting the wheat. It wasn’t until I got closer and the man turned at the sound of our approach that I realized it was Trent, the other Swift brother and not the one I’d been aiming to see.

  “Howdy!” he called out.

  I pulled on the reins and Sapphire came to a halt in front of him. “Howdy there, Trent. How’s work?”

  “Thirsty work this mornin’,” he replied with an amiable grin.

  “I reckon you’re right ‘bout that. I have a skin on me.”

  “That’d be much appreciated.”

  I tossed him the water skin and watched as he unscrewed it and drank deep. When he’d drunk his fill, he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. It wasn’t until he looked up that I realized how much he and his sister favored one another. Though their eyes were different colors, I could see the shape was there, along with the long, fringed lashes. They had the same mouth, but beyond that, I couldn’t say exactly why he reminded me of her. He just did.

  Maybe I needed an evening of lovemaking with my wife, if I’d taken to thinkin’ on her brother’s mouth, I thought wryly. ‘Course, Maggie hadn’t been up for such attentions in months now. The weeks had been long and cruel, ‘specially knowing she was right there for the taking, if only I had the gumption to take her.

  “Thank you,” Trent said, tossing the skin toward me. “What brings you this way, Clay?”

  “I was hopin’ to catch Wesley for a quick word.”

  “Aw, sorry, you just missed each other. He and Libby rode for town. Somethin’ about needin’ new clothes for the baby.”

  I nodded. “I ‘spect that’ll be a common trip from here on out.”

  “Reckon so. Is there somethin’ I could help you with?”

  I hadn’t spent much time with the younger Swift man, though knowing his pa and his brother as I did, I was sure he was of the same solid, trustworthy stock. I really wanted to see Wesley. I don’t know what made me do it, but I dismounted, deciding to stay and visit for a spell. “Not really. To tell it true, I just needed to get out of the house.”

  Trent nodded, a knowing gleam in his eye. “Say, how is my dear sister these days?”

  I’d always believed a real man kept to himself concerning family matters, but hell, Trent was family. Besides which, I was at a loss and I feared if I didn’t figure somethin’ out soon, I’d lose Maggie forever. “She’s not well, Trent.”

  He stilled, seeming caught off guard. “Bad as all that?”

  “‘Fraid so.”

  “I knew… well, Wesley saw her at church and said she looked a mite peaked, but I didn’t think…” He trailed off and looked toward the crop that was towering high, waving in the light breeze. I followed his eyes and we stood there, taking in the simple beauty of nature.

  “Crops I understand, horses I understand. But women?”

  “Don’t wear yourself out tryin’, neither. The minute you think you got it figured out, they throw you a new one.”

  I grinned in his easy company. Young he might be, but it sounded like he’d experienced his fair share. “You got it nailed down.”

  “Will she… Maggie… is she gonna be alright?”

  “I sure hope so, Trent. I sure do. I just… I’m not altogether sure what it’s gonna take. I’d prefer not to punish her over this mess. I know she can’t help it.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “You know, why don’t I see if the girls can’t pop over for a spell tomorrow? She’s probably lonely out there with no women to talk to.”

  I shrugged. “Reckon it couldn’t hurt.”

  “Now, that’s just what I was thinkin’.”

  The matter settled, we began to talk about his plans for expanding the crop next year and I breathed a little easier, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from my chest.

  * * *

&nb
sp; I’d been left to believe that Clay had gone out to the fields to check on our new foals when I heard a knock on the door. At first, it sounded distant, but as it got more insistent, I rolled away, pulling my pillow over my head and burrowing my face into the mattress.

  Still, it went on, the rapping echoing in my head insistently until I could hardly bear it. I felt dizzy when I pushed myself up in bed, but the knocking persisted. I swung my legs around and stood up, wobbling just a bit. Once I was sure of my footing, I headed for the door, annoyed at having my slumber disturbed.

  It was nothing compared to how I felt when I opened the door and had Abigail standing in my doorway, her smile shining like to light the sky. Even Libby was in tow, with Mabel cradled in her arms. “Well, this is a surprise,” I remarked, stepping aside even though my words said plain it was a bad one.

  The two of them walked in, oblivious to my displeasure, or so it seemed to me. “Mornin’, Maggie,” Abby said cheerfully.

  “It’s hardly mornin’,” Libby observed, bouncing Mabel lightly in her arms. “Were you still abed?”

  I sighed loudly. This was the last thing I needed, people in my house passing judgment on something they couldn’t begin to understand. “Please, come on in and make yourselves at home.”

  “How are you feelin’?” Abby asked, taking a look around. I saw her flinch when she didn’t think I was looking.

  “Fine,” I replied in a clipped tone, surveying what had put that wide-eyed look on her face. Maybe I hadn’t done the dishes—well, I hadn’t done the cooking, either. Maybe the floors needed to be swept or the clothes washed. There was a great pile of them on the table. I felt my face heat with embarrassment. “I’ve been…”

  “Busy.” She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I understand.”

  But how could she truly? I dropped on to the couch, still in my nightdress and not caring one whit. Libby surprised me by sitting beside me.

  “You want to hold her?”

  I looked at the baby she was holding out to me and had trouble not wrinkling my nose. Did they all end up looking so… squished? “No, thank you,” I replied, hoping she couldn’t tell just by looking at me that it was the last thing I wanted.

 

‹ Prev