The Lady Who Lived Again

by Thomasine Rappold

  “Of course we did,” Lester declared as he joined them. “What better scenario in which to steal a kiss.” He slapped Jace on the shoulder. “Am I right?”

  “Say no more, friend, just tell me where to sign up!”

  Everyone laughed, and in that moment it struck Maddie how charming Jace was when he remembered to be. Something else struck her, as well. If any kiss stealing occurred between them today, she would likely be the thief. His eyes caught hers, and her body ached with longings far from platonic. She decided at once that if given the chance to pilfer a caress or two, she would rob the man blind.

  The party departed in four wagons, but as previously arranged, Jace drove Maddie in his buggy. While her fear of boarding a wagon was one she vowed to overcome, she wasn’t quite brave enough to attempt it yet. Instead, she enjoyed the ride in the buggy, and the serene view of the mountains. Fluffy clouds drifted above, and her mind drifted with them, returning to the day of the accident. A day that had begun just as this one.

  “The mountain trail is that way,” she said, pointing.

  Jace glanced to the dirt road that led into the woods. “Where the accident happened?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  She shifted uneasily in her seat. No one had ever asked her to speak of it. Even when she so desperately needed to. While she was uncertain she wanted to speak of it now, she felt she owed it to Jace to oblige his interest.

  She took a long breath. “We were having such a wonderful time. The storm rumbled in quickly. We thought we could make it back to town, but by the time we packed up our picnic and headed down the mountain it was pouring. We were soaking wet and laughing as we drove down the trail. Then a bolt of lightning struck very close. The horse tore off, and the reins went flying. We were headed straight for the tree. There was no way to stop. No time to jump. It all happened so fast.”

  “What’s the last thing you recall?”

  “Lying in the mud. The paralyzing pain in my leg.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “The silence beneath the pounding rain. I knew they were dead. I closed my eyes to die, too.”

  Jace reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Staring down at her fingers cradled in his, she felt so safe, so shielded from the horrors of the past. “It was my fault,” she said simply. She didn’t cry or shed a tear. She merely spoke the words, opening her soul to voice what she’d never voiced to anyone, never voiced out loud. “Pastor Hogle never allowed Elizabeth to drive. He claimed it was man’s work and an unseemly pursuit for a lady. We all thought it was nonsense of course. So I didn’t refuse her when she asked if I would let her drive the wagon that day. I knew she had virtually no experience guiding horses, but I didn’t give it a second thought. In fact, I spent more time worrying about whether someone would see Lizzie in the driver’s seat and land me in trouble with the pastor. How utterly stupid I was—I never should have given over the reins.”

  “Elizabeth was driving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does anyone know this?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What does it matter?”

  “They blame you because they think you were driving. Maddie, has it never occurred to you that, perhaps, if they’d known… If you’d told—”

  “I couldn’t tell.” A lump of despair rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down.

  Jace stared, perplexed. “Why not?”

  “Because I am alive and she’s dead.” She blinked against a prickle of tears and raw grief. “Nothing remains of Elizabeth but her memory, and I’ll not tarnish all that’s left of her by placing blame on her, too.”

  He shook his head. “You weren’t driving, Maddie.”

  “But I should have been. I tried to get her to give over the reins, but I should have tried harder. Perhaps I could have restrained the horse from panicking.”

  “And prevented the lightning from striking, as well?”

  She bowed her head sadly. “It doesn’t matter. They’re all gone now. The damage is done.” She sighed. “I only wish I understood why I survived and they didn’t.”

  “There are dozens of explanations. You landed just right. Or on softer ground.”

  Jace was always thinking logically. She knew there had to be a reason more than her body physically enduring her injuries. “That’s not what I mean.” Guilt clogged in her throat. “Why did I survive?”

  “No one can answer that question. But you did survive. And you’ve made great strides to overcome the trauma,” he said. “It doesn’t matter why your life was spared. What matters is that you get on with it.”

  He turned his focus to driving and left it at that. And strangely, it was enough.

  The sound of laughter spilled from the crammed wagon up ahead. Ribbons streamed from pretty bonnets in the breeze. Despite the solemn tenor of their conversation, Maddie couldn’t help smiling.

  “Is there some poultice or salve that can treat birth marks?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

  “Birthmarks like Dolly Hogle’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “If there is, I haven’t learned of it. I know some of the grandma cures have claimed to lighten the appearance of the red pigment, but I’ve never seen any first-hand evidence to it.” He shook his head. “Raising the girl’s hopes with flimsy promises would do more harm than good.”

  “She seems so sad.”

  Jace blinked. “Not too sad to snub you.”

  “Elizabeth was her cousin. Like Pastor Hogle and the rest of her family, she blames me.” She gave a small smile. “All except Lester.”

  “I like Lester,” Jace said. “And it’s obvious he likes you.”

  “He’s the only Hogle who still speaks to me. Whether that’s due to Amelia or not, I don’t know, but he’s always been kind. I couldn’t wish for a better husband for her.”

  “They seem well matched.”

  “Why haven’t you married?” The question popped out before she could stop it, and she clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise. Jace laughed heartily before responding.

  “That was the first thing the hiring committee asked when I applied to practice here,” he said with a smirk. “Were you feeding them lines from behind a curtain?”

  “No, I was not,” Maddie huffed. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you just neatly sidestepped the question.”

  “I told the committee I’d been too busy to find a woman who could tolerate how busy I’d been.”

  She regarded him warily. “Is that the truth?”

  “One version of it.” He smiled.

  She smiled too. “What’s the other?”

  “Marriage wouldn’t suit me.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “I live for my work. Outside of my patients, I’ve never been responsible for anyone other than myself.”

  “But you could change that if—”

  “I’ve no wish to change.”

  While his commitment to his work came as no surprise, his firm commitment to bachelorhood did.

  His profile was rigid, but his harsh tone softened. “I started reading medicine with my father when I was sixteen years old. Not because it was his wish, but at my mother’s urging. The field fascinated me, and I was eager for the chance. But my mother seized on the idea early on in my adolescence because she knew it was my only hope of forming any sort of relationship with the esteemed Doctor Merrick, Senior.”

  Although he spoke the words matter-of-factly, she could hear the sorrow born of his father’s neglect.

  “Oh, Jace.”

  “Being a physician takes commitment. Unwavering devotion. My father told me once that a man can be a good husband or a good doctor, but not both. In the end, he wasn’t much of a success at either.” Jace paused, hesitating. “And I won’t make the same mistake.”

  “But don’t you ever get lonely?”

  He shook his head, averting his ey
es. “I have plenty to occupy my time.”

  She blinked, shaking her head. “There’s a difference between boredom and loneliness.”

  He turned to face her. “Not to me.”

  He focused on driving, closing the subject, but his words lingered in her head—her heart. She brushed off her baseless disappointment. Marriage was not an option for Maddie. So, why did Jace’s aversion to it bother her so? She had no answer. She knew only that she could never have him, and she supposed a part of her felt pacified that no other woman could either.

  Once they arrived at the sprawling picnic grove on the hill overlooking the shimmering lake, the two servants catering the luncheon began unpacking the food. Meanwhile, the guests settled about like weary cattle on their blankets.

  Maddie and Jace claimed a shady spot beneath a tall oak tree. Abigail and Bitsy sat nearby, sketching the scenery. Gertrude spared Maddie from her scowls by meandering off to collect flowers with Lucinda and Dolly. Matthew wandered behind them, amusing himself with a walking stick he’d found along the way.

  Maddie watched as Matthew marched up to Dolly, then positioned her arm, adjusting the small parasol she held to better block the sun. Attentive didn’t begin to describe this behavior. It was simply controlling—as if the girl was incapable of discerning her own tolerance to the heat.

  With a frown, Maddie turned her attention to Jace, settling into the blanket and the pleasant surroundings. Mugs of beer and claret were served, and it wasn’t long before the men began setting up to play horseshoes.

  Daniel paced off the distance between the stakes that Henry and Lester hammered into the ground. Then strode purposefully toward Maddie and Jace.

  “We need another man for horseshoes, Doctor Merrick.”

  Jace glanced to Maddie for guidance.

  “That is, if you can tear yourself away.” Daniel’s note of humor fell flat on his challenging tone. “I’m sure Madeline won’t mind a whit.” Planting his feet, he crossed his arms smugly and stared down at Jace as he waited.

  Jace didn’t belong in Daniel’s shadow, and Maddie was only too pleased to let him prove as much to the entire assembled party. She smiled widely and turned to her sham fiancé.

  “Go ahead, my darling,” she said with an exaggerated squeeze of his arm. “I’ll watch from here.”

  Jace played along beautifully. Clasping her hand, he said, “I won’t be long.”

  She smiled in gratitude, enjoying the charade much more than she ought. Daniel’s cheeks heated as he watched their tender exchange, and she swelled with satisfaction. Then Jace shifted toward her instead of away, and to her surprise, he drew her hand to his lips. His gaze held hers as he kissed her glove—a deliberate, measured kiss that sent tingles down her spine. Thoughts of Daniel and vindication faded away. In Jace’s blue eyes she was lost, consumed by desire.

  Jace stood, releasing her hand. He shrugged off his coat, then dropped it on the blanket next to her. She sighed, watching him. With commanding confidence, he brushed past Daniel as he strode through the grass. Henry and Lester waited, horseshoes in one hand, mugs of beer in the other.

  “These two can’t handle their beer, Doc, so we’ve got an advantage,” Henry called with a smile.

  Since Jace wasn’t indulging with the others, Maddie was apt to agree.

  “Beer only improves my game,” Lester countered, lifting his mug high.

  Maddie rolled her eyes at Lester’s insatiable thirst today. At this rate, he wouldn’t last until luncheon.

  Henry chuckled. “We’ll just see about that.”

  Several people gathered to watch. Caroline spread a blanket next to Maddie’s, and Philip and David were quick to join her. Maddie hoped the friendly company would distract her from Abigail and Bitsy, who sat nearby, whispering fiercely about her from behind their sketch pads.

  Maddie and the two girls had never been close, but before the accident she’d never spared either of them a kind word or a second thought. Back then, she had eyes only for the Fair Five and barely noticed any of the plainer debutantes. Abigail and Bitsy had been regularly excluded. As had Gertrude. Perhaps their dislike for Maddie was justified.

  The ugly memories of the past sprouted around Maddie like so many weeds. Shame colored her cheeks as she straightened on the blanket and tried to focus on watching the game.

  Jace scored a ringer with his first toss. The clank of his triumphant shot echoed amid the applause. Jace flashed Maddie a wink, and she smiled back, all aflutter.

  “Your fiancé is a fine player,” Philip said with a look that told her it pained him to say it.

  Maddie offered Philip a kind smile and replied, “I had no idea he was so skilled.” She sat straighter, anticipating a fierce competition and hoping that Jace’s surprising ability would help wipe the smug expression from Daniel’s face once and for all.

  Chapter 14

  Jace scored once again with another dead ringer. The unbridled happiness on Maddie’s face stilled his heart. His throat went bone dry. Without breathing or blinking, he held the rare moment for as long as he could.

  She glowed in a deep lilac dress, knees folded casually at her side on the blanket. The dark curls beneath her straw hat glistened in the sun blinking through the treetops. Everything about her aroused him. Her wit, her courage, even her infuriating, but oftentimes practical, advice regarding his patients.

  Perhaps he was simply lonely, as Maddie had said. But he’d told her the truth. In the past, any feelings of isolation he experienced would dissolve painlessly in the distraction of treating patients and reading case studies. Since he’d met Maddie, he found that it wasn’t as easy to lose himself in work anymore.

  He drew his gaze from the pleasing sight of her, discovering he wasn’t the only one enjoying the view. Daniel’s furtive glances at Maddie were beginning to irritate him. Lucinda strolled beneath her large, yellow parasol in the distance, and Daniel was taking full advantage of her absence to ogle Maddie—the woman whom he’d abandoned when she’d needed him most. If the fool harbored any regrets for what he’d given up, Jace hoped like hell he was choking good and hard on them now.

  Jace also noticed the scene unfolding on the sideline. Philip had edged into Jace’s spot next to Maddie, refilling her claret glass and honeying up to her like a lovesick schoolboy. Throughout the afternoon, Jace had observed Philip and his strategic proximity, always at a distance, yet always close by. If Jace were a jealous man—which, of course, he was not!—he’d be greener than the grass beneath his boots.

  Shaking off his sudden tension, he glanced to Maddie. Trapped by her smile, his angry pulse slowed to an even rhythm. Henry scored his first point, and she clapped and cheered with the others. She seemed different suddenly. Amid the friendly group she seemed more confident, more at ease as the game advanced. Jace was seeing her now as she might have been then. One of the Fair Five.

  He should be pleased.

  The point of their charade was so that Maddie might reclaim her reputation. Some semblance of it, at least. Jace was merely a means to that end. Judging from the male attention she was receiving, her re-entry into society was progressing better than expected. Why then, did he feel less than enthused?

  Jace took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on the game. To his chagrin, Daniel glanced at Maddie yet again and was distracted enough by what he saw to miss his next shot. Jace felt his hands curl into fists as Daniel exhaled another muffled curse.

  Jace stepped up for his turn and scored another point. Daniel took an angry swig of beer, then tossed his horseshoe. Close, but not close enough. Lester, on the other hand, missed by a mile but was taking their imminent loss in stride. Swilling his lager next to Jace, he cracked jokes, undaunted by his partner’s increasing agitation. Each toss Lester made became more aimless, more reckless, while Daniel’s pitches grew more and more precise.

  The sound of Maddie’s laughter caught Jace’s attention, as did the intimate pose of Philip, rec
lining next to her on the blanket. As the game drew to its conclusion, Jace was glaring at Philip, Daniel was glaring at Jace, and Lester was three sheets to the wind.

  Lester’s next toss flew high. Too high. And straight toward Daniel, who was so engrossed in ogling Maddie, he didn’t see it coming, until it struck him in the head.

  “Daniel!” Lester shouted.

  Daniel hit the ground like a sack of rocks.

  Jace ran with the others to the unconscious man, then knelt at his side.

  “Tell me I didn’t kill him, Doc.” Lester’s plea sounded deathly sober above him.

  Jace checked Daniel’s pulse and breathing. Both were normal and strong. “He’s alive,” Jace assured him. “I need some ice,” he called out.

  They all remained planted, gaping down at Daniel like a herd of startled deer.

  “Ice!”

  Maddie moved first. Hiking up her skirts, she ran—a blur of lilac—toward the table that held the pitchers of beer and lemonade. Grateful for her quick response, Jace proceeded to open Daniel’s eyelids and check his pupils. Maddie returned, forging through the crowd. She handed Jace an ice-filled glove.

  Impressed by her resourcefulness, he placed the ice on Daniel’s head, where a lump the size of an egg had already formed.

  Maddie hovered over Jace, clearly distressed. “I’ll get your bag.” She started away.

  “Wait.” Jace considered the steep hill to the buggy and the tight nook behind the seat into which he’d stowed the bag for safekeeping. “I’ll go. I’ll be quicker. Hold the ice like this, and don’t let him move.”

  Maddie nodded, taking over for Jace as he dashed up the hill toward his buggy. In the distance, he glimpsed Lucinda and Gertrude running toward the huddle around Daniel. Jace was confident Daniel had a concussion, and the longer he remained unconscious, the more grave the prognosis. The impact of the blow Daniel had sustained could prove fatal. Jace reached the buggy and pulled out his bag. Barely catching his breath, he turned and ran back down the hill toward the still unconscious son-of-a-bitch on the ground.