The Wind Harp
Page 18
Her words set his blood to humming. She might as well have said she loved him, so dizzying were her words and the way she was looking at him.
He noticed that her hair was done up in some kind of a fancy twist today, and again he wondered what was going on. But he hadn’t the nerve to ask, certainly not with the cold-shoulder she’d been giving him all week.
She had already turned away, as if she were about to go inside.
“Maggie…” he ventured, all the while knowing that the time was all wrong for this, yet feeling as if he couldn’t let it go on any longer. “Are you angry with me? Have I done something?”
She looked at him, but Jonathan couldn’t read her expression. “I’m not angry with you, Jonathan,” she said quietly. Her gaze went to Figaro and Huey Lazlo. “But even if I were, I’d still love your dog.”
With that she went inside before Jonathan could stop her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Through a Sister’s Eyes
The way to love anything is to
Realize that it might be lost.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Because of Dr. Gordon’s orders, Evie was almost entirely confined to the house. She couldn’t go to church, couldn’t go visiting, couldn’t do much of anything except stay inside and rest.
On Sunday afternoon, hoping to help make the time pass more quickly for her sister, Maggie hurried through the kitchen cleanup and then went to challenge Evie to a game of checkers in the front room.
The house was quiet. Mum had actually given in to take a nap while Da went outside to rake leaves. Ray was still out at cousin Jeff’s farm, where he would be spending all his weekends now.
Maggie had been surprised when her father gave his consent to the Taggarts’ proposal that Ray work for them on weekends, staying at the farm until Sunday evening. Cousin Jeff’s original idea had been for Ray to live with them full-time. Apparently Jeff was finding it hard to keep up the farm in addition to working at the lumber mill and needed help. Da wouldn’t agree to a full-time arrangement, but he did finally compromise and allow Ray to work on weekends.
So now Ray left for the Taggarts on Friday right after school and didn’t come home until late on Sunday. Maggie was almost certain Da had mixed emotions about this. With his health being what it was, he could have used Ray’s help himself, especially on weekends when there was no school. But she suspected that her father’s own love for farm life had entered into his decision. He of all people would understand Ray’s affinity for working the land.
Besides, Jeff was paying Ray a fair wage for the few hours he put in, and no doubt Da was hoping that having some money of his own in his pockets would dampen any lingering thoughts her brother still had about going into the mines.
She figured it had been a wise move on her father’s part. Surely there couldn’t be much choice for a boy between working below ground in a dark, dank coal mine and working outdoors, unconfined, and far enough away from town that the air was fresh and free of coal dust.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Evie remarked.
Her sister was lying on her side on the floor, balancing herself on one elbow. Maggie thought she didn’t look any too comfortable, but Evie insisted she was fine.
“Is something wrong?” she asked Maggie as she considered her next move.
“No,” Maggie said. “What would be wrong?”
Her sister looked up. “I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”
Maggie kept her eyes on the checkerboard, saying nothing.
“Maggie?
She still didn’t look at Evie, but finally answered. “I haven’t wanted to talk about it, but I suppose I might just as well tell you.” She sighed, then went on. “Last Sunday after church Jonathan passed us on the way home. Carolyn Ross was in the buggy with him, and they were obviously having a grand old time together.”
She could feel Evie’s eyes on her. Finally she looked up. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Evie lifted one eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Like you feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m sorry you were hurt, that’s all.”
“I’m not hurt. I’m just glad I finally realized how foolish I’ve been. I don’t know why I ever thought he’d be interested in me. Not with a woman like Carolyn around. And besides, he really is too old for me. If I think so, I’m sure he does. Now, can we talk about something else? I really don’t want to think about this anymore.”
Maggie turned her attention back to the checkerboard, but she could still feel Evie’s gaze on her. “It’s your play,” she reminded her sister.
Evie jumped one of Maggie’s pieces and then another. “Well, I suppose it’s good that you found out how things are now, rather than later,” she said. “And I expect you’re right, after all.”
“Right about what?”
“About Mr. Stuart being too old for you. You’re probably better off holding out for someone more your own age.”
“I’m not holding out for anything,” Maggie snapped. “I absolutely won’t marry a miner, I can tell you that. And just try to find a man in Skingle Creek who isn’t a miner. I probably won’t marry anyone.”
What she left unsaid was that she wouldn’t marry anyone if she couldn’t have Jonathan Stuart.
“Whatever happened to Kenny Tallman anyway? Everyone thought the two of you would get married after you graduated.”
“He’s off in a jungle somewhere,” Maggie said.
Evie made a face. “I always thought he was a little strange.” She started to make a move, then stopped, pushing herself up as she tried to see out the front window. “Who’s Da talking to?”
“What?”
“Someone’s out there with him.”
“Probably Mr. Quigley.”
Just then they heard feet stamping on the porch and the door flew open to admit Da—and Jonathan Stuart.
Maggie clambered to her feet, at the last minute remembering to give Eva Grace a hand up from the floor.
“Brought you some company, Eva Grace,” Da said. “I expect you’ll be glad to see this gentleman.”
Jonathan gave Maggie a quick smile, but when she glanced away he went directly to Evie, taking both her hands in his. “Eva Grace, it’s so good to see you! I hope it’s all right that I came by without letting you know first.”
“Oh, of course it is, Mr. Stuart. I’m glad to see you too.”
A faint blush stained Evie’s cheeks. Maggie could tell this was awkward for her sister. It was only natural that it would be, given the fact that she hadn’t seen Jonathan Stuart for years. Indeed, Evie had had little contact with anyone but family since leaving Richard, and with her condition being so obvious now, she would likely be easily flustered.
But with characteristic tact, Jonathan managed to ease the moment. “Who’s winning?” he asked, releasing Evie’s hands and gesturing to the checkerboard on the floor.
Evie smiled now, though she stood with her hands clasped in front of her, as if to minimize her condition. “I think we’re taking turns today, although Maggie usually gets the best of me.”
Maggie busied herself with picking up the game pieces so she wouldn’t have to look Jonathan in the eye. The pain of seeing him and Carolyn together last Sunday still lingered.
“Kate’s having herself a bit of a nap,” said Da. “I’ll call her–”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Jonathan told him. “I can’t stay. I came by only to say hello to Eva Grace.” He paused. “And to see if Maggie would like to come with me to visit the Lazlo children.”
Maggie whipped around to find him watching her. Surprised by the unexpected invitation, she didn’t quite know what to say. In truth, she’d been wanting to visit the children. There was little if any time during school to speak privately with either of them. Yet she was reluctant to be alone with Jonathan, knowing it would be difficult.
Everything seemed different now that he and Carolyn were a coup
le. Even at school, she sometimes found herself feeling young and inept and gauche. It seemed that every time she turned around she saw Carolyn going in or coming out of his office, and the woman invariably had a cat-caught-the-mouse smile on her face.
Still, he was merely offering her a ride to visit the children. That was all.
But did she really want to be with him so much that she’d tag along like a pup on a rope, just to keep him company? Even knowing what she did about him and Carolyn?
“Yes,” she said impulsively. “I’d like to go. I’ll just go and put up some bread for tomorrow so Mum won’t have to do it. You can let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
Without waiting, Maggie escaped to the kitchen. At the same time she heard Da take his leave. “Well then, Jonathan, while you and Eva Grace have your visit, I’ll be tending to the rest of those leaves. The way the sky looks, we’ll be getting some rain later this evening.”
In the kitchen Maggie stood at the sink and took in some long, steadying breaths, already wishing she’d refused to go. She’d scarcely been able to face him when he walked in today. How was she going to handle being alone with him? She should have told him no. Maybe she still would. She could just tell him she’d changed her mind…or she wasn’t feeling well.
Or she could tell him to go collect Carolyn and take her instead.
Even as she fought to quiet her emotions, she was remembering the way he’d looked at her only a moment before…as if he were confused by her behavior…or even hurt.
Well, if he was hurt, Carolyn would be only too glad to patch up his feelings.
Now she was being really childish.
She wished she had somewhere to go to get her own wounds healed. Then she remembered she did have somewhere to go…and Someone who cared enough to heal her wounds. She could hardly get on her knees this minute, though, lest someone walk in.
That was all she needed: Jonathan, seeing her on her knees, praying for an end to this silly infatuation that was turning her into the village idiot.
It was doubtful that she’d ever know what Eva Grace and Jonathan had talked about during their visit. Whatever it was, they were together long enough that Maggie had the bread put up and the counter sponged off before Evie appeared in the kitchen.
Maggie saw right away that there was something different about her.
It was ever so subtle, but unmistakable no less. Something about her eyes. The combination of sadness and apprehension that had been present ever since Evie had come home seemed finally to have given way to something else: the faint glimmer of confidence that had once marked her sister’s bearing, along with a hint of something new. The care-worn expression of a woman bowed by uncertainty and dread of the future had lifted ever so slightly to reveal a look of purpose. Her expression had brightened just enough that Maggie thought she could detect a glimmer of hope.
For the first time in a long time, Eva Grace was her big sister again.
“If you can bring yourself to come out of hiding,” she told Maggie with a quirk of a smile, “Mr. Stuart is ready to go. He said to take your time though. He went outside to talk to Da.”
“I’m not hiding,” Maggie snapped. “Besides, he didn’t come to see me. He came to see you.”
“Actually,” Evie said quietly, her gaze traveling down the front of her dress, “he came to pray for me…and my baby.”
She looked at Maggie. “I can’t think of any other man I’ve ever known—not even Da—who could have done that without embarrassing me, given the situation I’m in. I’d almost forgotten how remarkable he is.” She paused. “No wonder you fell in love with him.”
“Evie!” Maggie grabbed her by the arm. “Keep your voice down! And I’m not in love with him! That foolishness is over.”
Her sister turned a look on her that made Maggie feel cornered. “I can’t believe you haven’t seen it before now. Maggie—Jonathan Stuart is in love with you.”
Maggie stared at her. “Why in the world would you ever say something like that to me? This isn’t anything to tease me about, Evie!”
“I’m not teasing,” her sister said evenly. “I saw it the minute he looked at you—the minute he walked into the room. And the way he watched you when you left the room.”
Maggie stood mute, her mind spinning, her heart racing.
“You’re wrong…”
Evie shook her head. “No, I’m not wrong. I know what I saw. And what’s more, I saw the way you looked at him when you didn’t think anyone was watching. It seems to me that it’s about time you and Jonathan Stuart faced the truth.”
She gave Maggie one more long look. “For now, though, you’d best go and wash the bread dough off your face and powder your nose. I do wish we’d worked on your hair earlier, but apparently it’s fine the way it is. He seems to like the way you look just as you are.”
Maggie didn’t move. She wanted to protest what her sister seemed so sure of, wanted to convince her she was wrong.
But what if she wasn’t wrong?
“Maggie—” Evie pointed a finger at the door. “Go!”
Maggie went.
Chapter Twenty-Four
For the Love of Maggie
May God be praised for woman…
W.B. Yeats
Outside, Jonathan couldn’t help but note how tired Matthew MacAuley looked. Jonathan was certain his face was more deeply lined than it had been the last time he’d seen him. He suspected that was pain etched across those broad Irish features.
According to Maggie, her father lived with almost constant misery, and had ever since the mine cave-in last year. Matthew never talked about it. He wouldn’t. Not even to his own children, apparently. Maggie had indicated that she knew the little she did only because her mother had confided in her.
Jonathan hated seeing Maggie’s father in such a wretched condition. Matthew had once been the strongest, most physically powerful man he’d ever known. But little by little he was becoming a veritable shadow of himself. His lameness seemed more pronounced each time Jonathan saw him, and his clothes hung loosely on his once brawny frame.
As much as Jonathan was worried about his friend, he knew it had to be even harder for Matthew’s family. His concern prompted a question that he knew might prove inflammatory, but he felt the need to ask it anyway.
“Have you heard about the new doctor in town?” he ventured carefully.
“The lady doctor, you mean,” said Matthew, leaning heavily on the rake. “As a matter of fact Eva Grace saw her last week. She liked the woman.”
“Good.” Jonathan hesitated, groping for just the right words. “What about you, Matthew? You’ve said all along that Dr. Woodbridge has been no help to you. Have you thought about making an appointment with Dr. Gordon?”
Had he suggested a trip to the gallows the other couldn’t have looked more shocked. “A woman?”
Clearly this wasn’t going to go well.
“She’s a graduate of medical college, and according to Ben Wallace, she’s been in practice for some years now. And,” Jonathan pointed out, “she’s the only other doctor besides Lebreen Woodbridge within traveling distance.”
Matthew continued to stare at him as if he’d lost his senses altogether. “I’ll not be going to any woman doctor, I don’t care how long she’s been in practice.” His mouth tightened even more. “And how did such a fine physician end up in a coal town like Skingle Creek, I can’t help but wonder.”
Jonathan had noticed before how Matthew’s Irish brogue thickened with even the slightest aggravation. He probably shouldn’t pursue the subject, but he wasn’t inclined to back down just yet.
“I’m curious, Matthew. Why wouldn’t you see a woman doctor?”
He knew the reason, of course.
Matthew’s heavy eyebrows came up sharply. “Would you?”
Jonathan wanted to be fair, so he asked himself the same thing. He supposed it would depend on the type of ailment he had. And its location.
“I b
elieve I would, yes. In fact, I’m certain I would if I needed help.”
“Well, that’s fine for you then, Jonathan. As for me, I’ll stay on with Doc Woodbridge. Even if he is a quack.”
“Lebreen Woodbridge is no quack, Matthew,” Jonathan said more sternly than he’d intended. “But I’ll admit that he doesn’t seem to have helped you.”
“Well, he’s not that much of a doctor. Never has been.”
“There—that’s my point. If you have no faith in Dr. Woodbridge, then why won’t you consider Dr. Gordon?”
Still leaning on the rake, Matthew straightened a little. Jonathan didn’t miss the way he winced with the effort.
“Jonathan, there’s no man in town I respect more than you. I hope you know that. But to be straight with you, this is my business. Don’t worry yourself about it.”
Heat rushed to Jonathan’s face. “I apologize if I’m out of line, Matthew. The only reason I raised the subject is because we’re friends, and it bothers me to see you in pain.”
“You live with what you’ve been given,” the other said with a shrug.
Matthew’s tone was too mild to be safe. Jonathan had learned that his Irish friend was often a good case in point for the adage about the calm before the storm. He was definitely not a man to press too hard. Yet he was reluctant to give up.
“I still wish you’d consider the idea.”
“You’re a good man, Jonathan,” Matthew said, unexpectedly cracking a grin. “But I’d wager that if it came down to it, you wouldn’t be all that quick to drop your drawers for a lady doctor.”
“Modesty is a small price to pay if there’s any chance she might be able to help you.”
Still grinning, Matthew shook his head. “You’re the smartest fella I ever knew, Jonathan, but even you can sometimes be a bit foolish.”
Knowing himself to be defeated, Jonathan sighed. “You’re as smart a man as I am, Matthew, but you can sometimes be a bit thick-headed.”