She felt the same rush of joy and passion as she’d felt the night before and answered back enthusiastically, twining her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“I’m glad you have a good memory.” He drew her back down to the blanket and pulled her head to his shoulder. “But I guess we’d better not startle the townspeople.” He nodded in the direction of the elderly couple who were giving them covert glances.
“Oh, dear. I hope they don’t know any of the schoolchildren’s parents. Teacher’s reputation could be in shatters.”
“We’ll have plenty of time later,” he said, pushing one of those impossible tendrils of hair from her cheek. She read promise in his words.
They sat quietly for some time, her head on his shoulder. Then Maggie broke the silence, comfortable enough with him now to ask the question still haunting her mind. “Why did you dislike me so much when I first came here?”
Maggie thought she knew the answer, but she didn’t like uncertainties. Clarification was important before going to the next step in her relationship with Marshall. She felt a sudden frisson over the word relationship, even if it was only uttered in her thoughts.
“I didn’t dislike you-I was in awe of you. I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever met.”
She sat up suddenly. “I’ve never thought of myself that way.”
“That’s part of your charm.”
“But why did you act as if you couldn’t stand to be around me?”
“Fear,” he said.
“Of me?”
“No, of me.” He sighed. “I’m sure you’ve heard the story about Stella and me.”
She nodded slightly, not wanting to interrupt him.
“She was the last teacher here. Boarded with Ellen and Ray, too. I was at the farm a lot when Ray had a bout of pneumonia. Stella was pretty and fun, and we saw a lot of each other. I thought we had a future together, but she thought otherwise. She left without telling anyone, just left a letter for Ellen saying they needed to get someone else to finish the school year. She didn’t even leave a letter for me. I think that’s the part that hurt the most.”
He stopped for a minute, but Maggie didn’t want to break the silence.
“Then when you came, I guess I didn’t want a repeat performance.”
Maggie sat upright with indignation. “You thought I would act like that?”
“I’d just met you. I didn’t know anything about you except that you were beautiful. I just decided it was best to keep my distance.”
“And now?”
“Now I know you’re an honest, generous person behind that pretty face. In addition, of course, to being the most curious and inquisitive person I’ve ever met.”
She gave him a punch on the shoulder. “You’re not going to make a habit of this, are you?”
“A habit of what?”
“Of kissing all the teachers who come to board at Ellen’s.”
He opened his mouth to reply, then he suddenly clamped it shut as his gaze seemed to wander to the beach “Let’s head for home. It’s getting late and Ellen will wonder where we are.”
Dumbfounded at the change in Marshall, Maggie looked around for the cause. Two couples strolled along the shoreline. A dark-haired woman, who looked about Maggie’s age, threw them a quick glance before pointedly looking away. Who could she be to bring about this change in Marshall? Or was she even the cause?
The dark-haired woman took another lingering look back as the group walked by. Maggie was sure this woman was the reason Marshall wanted to leave.
The drive home was quiet, their conversational exchanges sounding like formal pleasantries between strangers. How could this man, with whom she had shared such an intimate kiss minutes ago, suddenly seem so distant?
CHAPTER TWELVE
When they arrived home, Marshall came into the house long enough to deposit the picnic’s remains. He gave Maggie a brief smile and her hand a quick squeeze before he left, but that was all.
Ellen gave her an inquiring look. “Picnic go well?”
Maggie sighed. Ellen might know how to explain Marshall’s behavior, so she gave her an account of the day. “Then suddenly his manner drastically changed. Who was that girl? And what did she have to do with Marshall?”
“I heard someone say Stella was back in town. I’d hoped they were mistaken, but from your description, I’m sure that’s who it was. Don’t let it bother you. I think seeing her again must have been a shock for Marshall as he wasn’t expecting it, but I know he doesn’t have feelings for her anymore. He’s my brother. Believe me, I know where his affections are headed.” She patted Maggie on the shoulder in a comforting way as she would have with Emma, but somehow the gesture only made Maggie feel more unsure.
Stella must have had a powerful hold on Marshall to affect his behavior that way.
Maggie excused herself to her room and wandered around about it, restless and confused. She should sit down and write a letter, but she knew if she wrote in her current state of mind, her family would read between the lines and know she was unhappy. The letter could wait until she sorted out her feelings. But what was there to sort?
She was falling in love with Marshall, and a few hours ago she thought he was falling in love with her too. Now, who knew?
Outside, the clouds gathered and darkened. It was going to rain and the change in weather mirrored her change in mood.
She sighed and set out her raincoat, hat, and boots. It would be a damp walk to school tomorrow.
That night, she woke from a dream that unsettled her and kept her from slipping back to sleep. She had been in a storm, one without rain—unlike the downpour she heard outside her window—but a whirling tornado picked her up like Dorothy in Kansas and tumbled her across the sky. There hadn’t been a great wizard in her dream, only flying furniture, and pieces of buildings and unending wind.
She’d called out for help to her parents, to Dora, and to Ellen, but not to Marshall. Strangely enough, he hadn’t figured in her dream at all. The significance of that omission kept her awake.
* * *
The rain came and went all week. The gravel road grew slippery with mud, and raincoats and boots became a part of daily life. The walk home from school on Friday was a nasty one. Maggie had a headache from a trying day of keeping a schoolhouse full of children occupied indoors, since it was too wet for them to blow off steam and energy outside. She was glad when she and Emma turned into the lane for home.
Ellen was waiting for them at the door. “I was getting worried,” she said. “Ray wanted to go and pick you up with the truck, but I persuaded him that his cast probably wouldn’t let him. That made him a little sulky, but he wouldn’t let me go either. I’ll be almost as glad as he will when that stupid cast comes off next week. Men, especially farmers, can’t handle sitting around doing nothing.”
Emma had run into the living room and was telling her father in great detail about the walk home, and then asked, “Why do they call it raining cats and dogs, Daddy?”
Maggie couldn’t hear Ray’s answer, but it was met with a whoop of laughter. Thank heavens, Emma seemed to be over her concern that the baby would take her place in her father’s affections.
“We were fine,” Maggie said. “I’m not too sure the truck would have stayed on the road anyhow. It certainly is slippery. I hope the rain quits soon.”
“Thank heavens all the crops are in,” was the farmer’s wife’s reply.
Marshall was absent during supper that evening.
“He said he had to go into Timber and help Josh with some problems at the lumberyard,” Ellen said in answer to Maggie’s unspoken question. “He’ll be gone most of the weekend. There’s not much to do here in this weather.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The following week, Marshall was busy and he and Maggie saw little of each other—and had no time alone. Outwardly, he was still the new, friendly Marshall, but she felt a distance between them. Or was it her imagination?
Surely if his feelings for her were unchanged, he would have found time for them to be together, to share more of those indescribable kisses.
Maggie thought it strange that the lumberyard functioned quite well without Marshall until the week Stella showed up in town. Ellen had talked to a friend in Timber and had confirmed she was indeed back. Was Marshall with her now? Had she explained to him how she’d made a terrible mistake and Marshall was the man she really wanted? Would he forgive her and want her back too?
Maggie shook her head. She couldn’t go on speculating about it. She had to think of something else instead.
One look at Ellen’s face gave her that something to think about. “Are you all right, Ellen?”
“Yes, it’s starting to fade now. Just false labor pains, I think. I’m still a couple of weeks from my due date. Nothing to worry about.”
“Get off your feet,” Ray said, taking the dishcloth from her hand. “Maggie and I will clean up. You’ve been doing too much.”
Ellen started to protest, but Ray gave her his no-nonsense look. She went into the living room, took off her shoes, and slipped her feet up on the end of the couch.
“That’s the third time today.” Ray handed a washed plate to Maggie, who waited with a tea towel. “I’m going to call Sarah. She’s the midwife and only a couple of miles away. The doctor would never make it on these roads.”
He picked up the receiver and pressed it to his ear. “Phone’s out,” he said. “There must be a line down somewhere.”
“Maybe she just needs a rest.” Maggie tried to believe her own words.
“We’ll see. If it is the real thing, one of us is going to have to ride for the midwife. And it isn’t going to be me, I’m afraid.” He swore softly as he regarded his cast-covered leg.
“Ride?” Her voice squeaked.
“The water is over the road down the hill. The truck might make it over the creek bridge, but would never make it up the hill. A horse is our best bet.”
“I can’t ride.” Maggie’s hands clenched and her breath came as though she’d just run all the way up that hill. “I can’t get on a horse.”
“Of course you can. You just climb up and hang onto the mane. The horse will take you there.”
“I could walk,” she said, faint hope in her voice.
“The horse is quicker. Besides, you need to bring Sarah back with you. Bonnie can carry you both.”
Obviously, her fear of horses had never been passed on to Ray, and Maggie couldn’t tell him now that she’d put his wife in peril because she was afraid of a horse. She just had to hope it was a false alarm.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They soon found out it wasn’t a false alarm. The pains were coming quicker now, and Ellen cried out with each contraction.
Ray called to Maggie. “You’re going to have to ride for the midwife. Ellen didn’t have an easy time with Emma, and I’m afraid it’s going to be the same this time.” His face was white. “Take Bonnie. She’s the one with the blaze and four white feet. She’ll get you there. Just bridle her and climb on. Use the fence. When you get to the north gate, turn right. It’s the second farm on the right side.”
How could Maggie argue? She had to go. In the barn, it was easy to pick out Bonnie. Not only was she the only one with white feet, but two wooden boards above the stalls identified the occupants as Bonnie and Dan. She talked softly to Bonnie, trying to keep the fear from her voice.
Uncle Robert had tried to help her overcome her fear of horses whenever she’d stayed at his farm. He’d tried to familiarize her with the process of grooming them, feeding them, and harnessing them. The last time he’d tried to get her to climb up on the back of a tall bay mare, Maggie had bolted from the barn. After that, Uncle Robert had given up.
Maggie took the bridle closest to her from the wall and pushed the bit into the horse’s mouth, pulling the straps over her ears. At least she’d remembered some of what Uncle Robert had shown her.
Bonnie shook her head, spewing out green, soggy bits of half-chewed hay, making Maggie jump back.
Please, don’t crush me against the stall. Please, don’t step on my foot. Please, don’t do that again.
Then she slowly started to push Bonnie backward. The horse knew she was about to go to work and what she had to do. She backed up around the corner of the stall and headed for the door, Maggie trailing off to the side, clutching the rope reins attached to the bridle, and keeping her feet as far away as she could from the huge, pie-shaped ones.
Once out of the barn, Bonnie looked around for her teammate, who was still in the barn. However, this wasn’t a job for a team. Bonnie was going solo. Maggie pulled her over to the wooden, slatted fence and climbed on the pole. Bonnie had apparently done this before because she stood quietly while Maggie settled on her back.
She was pretty sure she’d read a rider always got on a horse from the left side, not the right, but maybe Bonnie hadn’t heard because she didn’t seem to mind when Maggie broke protocol.
Maggie straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and tried not to look down to see how far she’d have to fall. She clutched the mane tightly and chirruped to Bonnie. She reeled a little as the horse started forward, but she regained her balance and decided the only thing to do was point Bonnie in the direction she wanted to go and hold on.
Don’t think about being on a horse. Pretend you’re on a bicycle or a wagon.
How could she think that when she felt a jolt with every step Bonnie took, and felt the warmth and movement of each muscle as she walked?
Then think of Ellen. She’s the one in pain and distress. And I’d gladly trade places with her.
Going down the hill, she had to change position and lean back to counter the horse’s moves. That kept her a little more balanced. Bonnie’s hooves clanked on the bridge, and Maggie could hear the torrent of water underneath as the tiny creek was now a roiling force.
Bonnie trotted faster up the hill, bouncing Maggie with every hoof beat. As they reached the crest of the hill, Bonnie misstepped, slipping in the mud. Maggie bounced wildly and began to slide sideways. She couldn’t help herself. She grabbed at the mane desperately, but couldn’t stop from falling to the ground.
She lay in the mud, tears mixing with the rain. “Stupid! Stupid! What am I going to do now?”
She could walk the rest of the way, leading the horse. Then when she got to Sarah’s house, she’d find a way to remount. She stood and grasped the rope. Luckily, Bonnie hadn’t decided to wander off when she was rid of her burden.
She was surprised when Bonnie pulled at her lead and started to go off the trail. Maggie tugged on the reins, trying to bring her back, but the horse stood still. That’s when Maggie spotted the fence.
The post was tall and stout enough for her to climb on and remount Bonnie. She gave the horse a look. Surely, Bonnie hadn’t deliberately led her to the fence! She’d always thought of horses as being rather slow and uncooperative, as well as frightening.
No time to think of motives now.
She clambered onto Bonnie’s back, determined to keep her attention and her behind firmly planted with each movement of the horse.
The house was dark when Maggie and Bonnie rode into the yard. Sarah had to be home. No one would be out in this weather if they didn’t have to be. Not unless she’d been called away to another birth. She hadn’t heard of anyone else in the area being pregnant.
Then she saw a flicker of light in the back window upstairs, and a moment later, Sarah appeared in the doorway, fully dressed and clutching a bag. “Is it Ellen?” she asked.
“Yes, Ray thinks she might have a hard time. Can you climb on behind me? Or should I stay here and let you take Bonnie back?” The last suggestion was said rather hopefully.
Sarah shook her head. “Bonnie can carry two as well as one. She’ll have to. My husband had our team at the logging camp. He hasn’t made it home yet through all the mud.” She looped the long strap of her bag over her back
and pulled a stool close to Bonnie. She climbed on and hooked her hands around Maggie’s waist. “Let’s go.”
Maggie wondered how Sarah managed to keep her balance on the horse without having a mane to hang onto. She felt herself moving along with Sarah, who was in turn moving along with Bonnie, and found her balance getting much better. There was a trick to this riding—not a very useful accomplishment as she never intended to ride a horse again.
She could hear Ellen cry out as they trotted into the Thornhills’ yard. Sarah was off the horse and on her way to the house before Maggie could dismount. She looked longingly at the house but knew she’d be no help—would probably be in the way.
She turned Bonnie towards the barn and managed to climb down in front of the door without falling on her face. All the muscles in her body ached.
.
She led Bonnie into her stall and exchanged the bridle for a halter. She’d watched Uncle Robert rub down a horse before, so she grabbed an old gunny sack and took a few swipes at Bonnie’s damp back. The horse seemed to like it and turned her head around to look at Maggie. She could swear Bonnie was trying to say, “Thanks. We did rather well together, didn’t we?”
“Thanks to you, too, girl.” Now she was getting silly. Her grade eight students had been studying anthropomorphism in language class and here she was indulging herself, giving Bonnie human feelings when all she probably wanted was some hay.
She gave Bonnie her water and left her with fresh hay, then trudged up to the house. She expected to hear the sound of Ellen in labor and was surprised to hear her laugh-a quick, happy laugh. It was followed by a baby’s cry.
She ran into the house in time to see Sarah handing a sheet-wrapped newborn to Ray. “It’s a boy,” she said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next morning was Saturday, thank heavens. No school for Maggie or Emma. The rain had quit and sporadic sunshine was beginning to dry fields and roads.
Sarah had stayed until late morning to be sure everything was fine with mother and baby and, declining any offers of breakfast or coffee, said, “I have to get home and see to my chores. Can I borrow Bonnie? I’ll stop at the Craig place on the other side of the bridge and see if their phone is working. They’re on a different line. If I can get through, I’ll ask the doctor to come as soon as he can drive the roads.”
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