The Wind Harp

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The Wind Harp Page 10

by BJ Hoff


  Her heart ached when she saw that Evie was weeping again. Tears trailed slowly down her face as she stood there, looking for all the world like a wounded child.

  “I loved him, Maggie. I thought it would stop if I could just love him enough…” Her voice broke.

  “Evie, you can’t stay with him,” Maggie pleaded, her own voice trembling. “You wouldn’t dare. He might kill you if you go back to him!”

  As if deaf to Maggie, Evie went on, her words disjointed and erratic. “I didn’t want to leave…I was afraid of what he’d do if he came after me…but the baby…I was frightened for the baby…”

  “Of course, you were. And rightly so.” Once again Maggie grasped her sister’s shoulders and led her to bed, sitting down beside her and turning Evie’s face toward her so she couldn’t look away. “In the morning, we’ll tell the folks. I’ll help you.”

  “Da will have to go to work…”

  Maggie pulled a face. “I forgot. All right. We’ll go ahead and tell Mum though. And then we’ll talk to Da when he comes home tomorrow evening. I’ll be here all day tomorrow, so you won’t have to face them alone. It will be all right, Evie. I know they vex us something fierce sometimes, but they love us more than everything, we both know that. Why, they’d be devastated entirely if they were to learn about this from someone besides you.”

  “They’ll be devastated anyway,” Evie said, her voice catching.

  “Yes, they probably will be,” Maggie agreed. “But not for long. You’ll see. They’re strong people, our folks. In no time, they’ll be making plans for the baby.”

  Evie wiped a hand over her damp face. “You don’t think Da will be angry with me?”

  “Why would he be angry with you? He’ll want to murder Richard, but he won’t be angry with you.”

  Maggie got up and went to straighten her sister’s bedclothes. “Come on now. You have to get some sleep. You can’t go without rest. It’s not good for the baby. And that’s what you need to think about now—the baby.”

  Evie hesitated but finally gave in.

  After Maggie extinguished the lamp, she leaned over her sister. Evie was still awake.

  Patting the bed beside her, Evie said, “Stay with me, Maggie. Like when we were younger.”

  Maggie crawled into bed with her big sister and lay holding her until Evie fell into an exhausted sleep. Only then did she turn away to shed her own tears.

  Chapter Twelve

  Confrontation

  Gone, gone, forever gone

  Are the hopes I cherished.

  Gerald Griffin

  The next morning, Eva Grace told Maggie she’d changed her mind about how she intended to divulge her situation to their parents.

  “Explaining it once will be hard enough,” she said while they were dressing for breakfast. “I’m just going to wait until tonight and tell them both together. I can’t go through that twice.”

  Maggie didn’t like it, but she understood. Still, it was going to be a long day, being around her mother, trying to pretend that everything was all right.

  “Ray will be here tonight, too, you know,” she pointed out.

  Evie’s face clouded with uncertainty. “I can’t possibly talk about this in front of Ray.”

  Fearful that her sister might yet change her mind, Maggie hurried to reassure her. “Actually, he might not be here. He and some of his friends usually get together on Saturday night. If you want, we’ll wait until he’s gone before talking with Mum and Da.”

  Her sister nodded. “But he has to know sooner or later.”

  “We’ll let Da handle that.” Maggie took her hand. “It’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”

  But the doubt in Evie’s eyes plainly said that she didn’t believe her, that she was afraid it would be anything but all right.

  And if she were to be completely honest, Maggie had to admit that she shared the same fear.

  As things turned out, they had no choice but to tell their mother before evening. Early Saturday afternoon, Maggie and Eva Grace were in the kitchen, baking a pie for supper. Ray had gone over to Tim Duggan’s house to “hit a few balls.” Their mother was in the front room, mending, so the house was quiet when they heard a knock on the door.

  Maggie started to go, but stopped when she heard her mother’s voice at the door.

  “Richard! Why didn’t you write that you were coming? Eva Grace—Richard is here!”

  Evie went white. She was trembling, fear tightening her features.

  “You don’t have to see him,” Maggie whispered, putting a restraining hand on her sister’s arm. “You stay here. I’ll talk to him.”

  “I have to see him, Maggie. Mum doesn’t even know what’s going on—”

  “Well, she’s going to know now. And you don’t need to see Richard. Just stay right here.”

  Uneasiness rose in Maggie. What if he managed to talk Evie into going back with him? She had sensed her sister wavering throughout the morning, so locked up with her own thoughts that she scarcely spoke.

  She couldn’t let that happen. No matter what it took, she couldn’t let Evie leave with Richard Barlow.

  “Maggie, I can’t just hide from him! I have to face him.”

  Maggie caught her by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Evie! You don’t have to face him! He’s given up any rights he ever had with you. I can handle Richard. You stay out of his sight.”

  She squeezed her sister’s shoulders, took a steadying breath, and headed for the front room.

  “Where’s your sister?” her mother said when she entered. “Does she know Richard is here?”

  He had the nerve to smile at her. One of his feigned brotherly smiles that virtually reeked of hypocrisy. “Hello, Maggie. It’s good to see you again.”

  When Maggie said nothing but simply stood glaring at him, his smile faltered a little. “Well, I’ve come to collect my wife,” he said, glancing back to Maggie’s mother. “No doubt she’ll be cross with me, but we really need to take the train back tonight. I have a board meeting at the church tomorrow afternoon.”

  Maggie’s blood roared in her ears at his mention of the church. “Evie’s not going anywhere with you.”

  “Maggie!” Her mother brought her hand to her throat, clearly shocked at this intolerable rudeness. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Something flared in Richard’s eyes, but if she’d disturbed his icy composure, he showed no sign of it. He merely gave Maggie a long, speculative look before glancing toward the kitchen.

  Before he could cross the room, Maggie blocked his way, darting in front of him. “I said, she’s not going back with you.”

  He calmly lifted an eyebrow and touched a hand to his perfectly groomed blond hair. “Of course Eva Grace is going back with me. Now be a good girl and go and fetch your sister. Or I will.”

  “No!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said no. You’re leaving, all right—and the sooner the better. But you’re leaving alone. You’ve hurt Evie for the last time.”

  His fair skin flushed an angry red, and his voice turned hard as a stone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Maggie, but I am most assuredly not leaving here without my wife! Now let me pass, please.”

  Maggie didn’t move.

  “Maggie, what are you doing?” her mother choked out. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Richard knows what’s wrong, Mum.” Maggie heard the tremor in her voice but ignored it. “Evie and I were going to tell you tonight. We’ll have to explain later.” She paused. “After Richard leaves.”

  But Richard had seen his chance to get past her. While her attention was diverted, he jostled her out of his way and started toward the kitchen.

  He was a big man, but Maggie’s anger had fired her with a strength she didn’t know she had. She lunged sideways and, shoving hard at his shoulders, managed to push him back.

  “Don’t you touch me again!” he warned, nearly shouting now as he lifted a hand to warn her
off.

  “Or you’ll do what, Richard?” Maggie shot back. “Beat me up the way you’ve been beating my sister? Not in this house you won’t!”

  She heard her mother gasp, saw Richard’s eyes flare as he looked past her. Maggie half turned to see Eva Grace standing in the doorway, her face ashen, her hands knotted into fists at her sides.

  “Stop it, Richard!” she choked out. “Leave Maggie alone.”

  He raked Evie’s face with a murderous look that, had she not been so furious, might have frightened Maggie. As it was, her only thought was to keep Evie well away from him until she could get him out of the house.

  She watched him struggle for control and grasp it, although his icy stare was unyielding. “Eva? What’s going on here?”

  Maggie saw the way her sister was shaking. Quickly she moved to slip a steadying arm around her shoulders.

  She didn’t miss the hatred in Richard’s eyes as he looked first at her and then at Evie. He stood rigid in his anger, his hands knotted at his sides.

  Maggie had never noticed before how large his hands were. She caught a momentary image of him using those hands to hurt Evie, and she had all she could do not to hurl herself at him.

  “Evie, go back to the kitchen,” she said.

  But Evie didn’t move. Instead, her tone surprisingly hard, she said, “Richard-I want you to leave.”

  “Why are you behaving this way, Eva?”

  “You know why.”

  He smiled, a quick, emotionless slash that didn’t fool Maggie for an instant.

  As she watched, he made an unsuccessful attempt to curb his anger. “Apparently you’ve told Maggie that we’re having difficulties. But I’m sure Maggie understands that all married couples have their problems.”

  “Richard, please. Just go.”

  Evie’s voice had dropped to little more than a whisper, and Maggie felt her sway slightly. How long would she be able to resist Richard’s clear intention of wearing her down?

  She glanced across the room to see her mother hugging her arms to herself, her expression one of shock and bewilderment. Maggie hated the pain this was going to bring upon her parents, especially her mother. Ever the peacemaker, Mum was one to take everyone’s problems on herself and try to solve them. But this horror that had come upon them now was more than a problem—and it wouldn’t go away until Richard walked out of their lives.

  And Maggie intended to make certain he did just that. Unfortunately, she had lost sight of the fact that Richard hadn’t risen to his present level of success without more than his share of cunning and persuasiveness. In a mercurial change, his harshness gave way to a humble, conciliatory tone of voice. Just as quickly, his facial expression smoothed, his former belligerence replaced by a meekness that enraged Maggie even more than his earlier condescension.

  “Eva, please,” he said, his tone cajoling. “We need to talk alone. We can’t work anything out here, in front of an audience.” He shot a look at Maggie, and in that instant his pale-blue eyes glazed over with fury. But when his gaze shifted back to Eva Grace, the pleading penitent had returned.

  Maggie held her breath. If Evie gave in to his performance—and Maggie was convinced that’s what this was, a performance—he would win. Evie would go back to Lexington with him.

  She could have moaned with relief when Eva Grace spoke up.

  “No, Richard. We’re not going to talk. Not this time.”

  “Eva—”

  “I said no, Richard. It’s always this way. You’re always sorry, and we talk, and you make promises and convince me it won’t happen again. But you’re not sorry, not really…and it does happen again. And every time it gets worse!”

  “You’re overwrought. You shouldn’t do this. The baby—”

  “The baby? Where was your concern for the baby when you punched me in the stomach the night of the Lockharts’ dinner because I had been too quiet at the table?”

  Maggie wanted to fly at him, pound him the way he had beaten her sister—repeatedly, savagely. Instead she could only stand and stare at him with revulsion and barely contained fury.

  Her mother let out a strangled sound of anguish. “Eva Grace?”

  Evie’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to tell you, Mum. I was going to tell you today, truly I was. Maggie and I, we were both—”

  But the shock in Kate MacAuley’s eyes had already changed to something else, something Maggie had never seen in her mother before that moment as she lunged toward Richard.

  “You’ve been hitting her? You hit your own wife when she’s carrying your child? What kind of a man are you?”

  So caught off guard was he by this unexpected explosion from Kate MacAuley that Richard actually stepped back. Maggie doubted that he’d ever thought his mother-in-law capable of anything more than a mild scolding. He plainly had never imagined her capable of the livid rage that flagged her face.

  Maggie wouldn’t have either. Something in her recoiled at the idea of her small, gentle-natured mother having to witness this ugliness. She released Evie and went to restrain her mother, gripping her arm to hold her back.

  Her mother’s eyes burned with accusatory pain. “Why didn’t you tell me, Maggie? One of you should have told me!”

  “Mum—I didn’t know until last night. We were going to tell you—both you and Da—tonight.”

  Her mother turned on Richard Barlow then, and Maggie thought she would never forget the look of black hatred and disgust that masked her usually placid features.

  “Leave my house!” she ordered, her words heavy and threatening. “And don’t you ever dare to come back. Matthew will kill you if you do, and I won’t lift a finger to stop him! Get out!”

  Maggie could actually see Richard measuring the strength of his mother-in-law’s rage, fumbling to regain his control of the situation, debating whether he should defy her. She glanced at Eva Grace and realized that her sister was holding herself together by the slimmest of threads. Torn between her family and the father of her baby, she didn’t know what to do.

  “You can’t be serious about this,” Richard said to Evie in that hateful, supercilious tone Maggie had always disliked so much.

  “Go, Richard!” was all Evie said. She sounded tired and riddled with sorrow, but her words were totally, uncompromisingly final.

  “I’m not going to stand for this, Eva. You’re having my child—”

  “I’m having my child!” Evie’s voice was like broken glass scraping bare skin. “I’ll die before I ever let you near my baby! Now get out of here or Maggie will go for help. Get out!”

  Maggie was so proud of her sister she almost shouted. Richard stood there, trying to stare Evie into submission, but she never wavered. She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze with a withering look, not even flinching at the ugly oath he hurled at her.

  Finally he started for the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned back. “We’re not finished,” he warned, his tone menacing. “Don’t you think for a moment this is over. That’s my child you’re carrying. Are you so simple-minded you actually believe any court will let you keep it? You left me, remember? You deserted me without any warning whatsoever. I can divorce you without lifting a finger, and you’ll never see the child!”

  And then he was gone.

  One glance at Evie told Maggie she was about to fall over.

  “Mum!” She motioned to her mother to go to Evie, then ran to slam the door behind Richard, throwing the lock with trembling hands.

  When she turned back, her mother was gathering Evie in her arms and leading her to the sofa. Her sister was near collapse and weeping.

  “Here, alannah, sit down. It’s over now. It’s over.” Her mum went on crooning to Evie as if she were a child, helping her onto the sofa as she gestured for Maggie.

  “You rest and then you can tell me everything. You and your sister must tell me what I should have known long before now.”

  She paused, drawing Eva Grace close. “And then you can tell us abo
ut the baby. I want to know about my new grandchild.”

  Maggie watched them, her heart swelling with love for her small, brave mother, even while it broke with sorrow for her disconsolate sister.

  Chapter Thirteen

  To Look Past This Night

  I shall carry hope in my heart,

  Though my heart lies in ruins,

  For there are those

  Whose love will bear me up.

  Author unknown

  Matthew MacAuley had once believed that the worst of the worries and frustrations that went along with raising three daughters were at an end once they were grown, especially with two of them wed and out of the house.

  More fool, he.

  He sat beside his eldest daughter on the sofa, awkwardly waiting for her to collect herself and go on with the unbelievable story she had just this evening leveled on him. When the first shock and initial storm of anger went roaring through him, he thought his head would explode. But once he’d heard the worst of it, he realized his heart would be destroyed before his head.

  Not that his rage had cooled, not a bit. If Richard Barlow had been within sight, Matthew would not have thought twice about beating the blackguard senseless. He had all he could do to stay put while his daughter continued her story. More than anything else he wanted to flee the room and go crashing into the night where he could release the rage that threatened to crush him.

  But the girl clearly had more to say, and he meant to hear it all, no matter how ugly it might be.

  Kate sat at the other end of the sofa, pulling at her knuckles, her gaze traveling back and forth between himself and Eva Grace. Every time her eyes lighted upon him, she looked as if she expected him to do something. The same with Maggie, sitting on the footstool in front of the window, her chin locked in place, one hand kneading her skirt.

  But what was he to do? He might have expected a marital quarrel or the like, but not something like this. Not something that reached into the dark cavern of his own past and made him want to retch.

 

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