by J. D. Faver
Her injuries had been determined to be superficial, but Ted insisted he wasn't taking any more chances. After her encounter with Mark and treatment at a small infirmary, they’d spent the night in the local hotel. Maddy slept well, aided by a prescription for pain, but Ted remained restless and watchful all night. When she awoke, she found him quietly packing for their return trip.
“I wish you would reconsider,” she said. “All we have to do is stay together. So what if he skulks around. He won't risk an attack if we stay in public places. He waited until I was alone.”
“True, but he's insane. One shouldn't attempt to second guess a crazy person.”
“Couldn't we stay one more day? I'm sorry I let him ruin our vacation.”
“This isn't your fault.” Ted sat beside her on the bed. “I'm angry with Mark, not with you.” His fingers tenderly caressed the bruises along the side of her neck.
“If we leave, he wins.” She held his hand against her face. Tears sprang to her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks. “Please don't let him win.”
“I don't want him to win, either,” he admitted, “But--”
“I know. You don't want to take anymore chances.” She snuggled into his arms. “I’ll promise not to take any risks. I’ll promise to stay tucked under your wing. In the meantime, I need food. I'm starving.”
“I'll order breakfast here in our sumptuous suite.” He waved his hand to indicate the two adjoining rooms they shared with the girls.
“Please, no more oatmeal,” she begged.
“I'll see what I can do,” he said. “I'm locking the door and taking the key with me, so don't answer it.” He returned a short time later with a pot of hot cocoa and buttered scones. “There is no coffee in this part of the Highlands. It's tea or cocoa. There's some sort of elderberry jam here.”
Maddy gratefully accepted a cup of steaming cocoa, inhaling the fragrance as she took tiny sips. Ted generously slathered a scone with jam and handed it to her on a small delicate plate. She examined the thin china cup and plate. “This is exquisite china.”
“It feels like an eggshell in my hand.”
“You seem to be in a better mood,” Maddy said.
“I placed a couple of phone calls from the lobby.” He took another sip of cocoa. “I made some alterations to our travel plans.”
“Such as?” Maddy said.
“I ordered a larger car and a driver. This way, I can concentrate on you and the girls.”
“We can continue our vacation?” Maddy smiled at him over the rim of her cup.
“Yes. I think our new arrangements will deter any further personal encounters.”
“New arrangements?”
“Just wipe off the chocolate mustache before we appear in public.”
~*~
Rene and the children arrived at the school at seven-thirty Monday morning. Printing her name on the board, she tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach. She took a deep breath and made sure there were enough chairs in each seating group. As the first arrivals filtered into the room she wrote their names and ages on a roster. She arranged them into four groups. Four boys were between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. They looked pleased to be seated together.
The next younger group was comprised of the upper elementary age children. They included Nadine's twins, Martina and Max, Reverend Goodnight's quiet son, Walter, Lark Culver and Meridell Lister whose parents owned the hardware store.
Seth, Skye Culver, Parker Wolf and Cammy McCorkill were seven years old. They, plus Jill Starkey at six and nine-year-old Sean McCorkill made up the lower elementary group.
The youngest were the preschoolers, Sara and Star Culver at four, and the dreaded five-year-old Nick McCorkill.
She let the youngest color and the oldest write a composition while the upper elementary group read silently. With the other groups thus engaged, Rene sat with the lower elementary children and began to evaluate their reading skills.
The morning raced by until a knock at the door interrupted the lessons around eleven. Rene found Honeybee with her truck backed up to the front door.
“I brought your lunch,” Honeybee explained.
“My lunch?” Rene was puzzled. The older boys pushed past her and carried large insulated containers inside.
“I have the contract for school lunch. I always bring it before the crowd comes to the cafe. If you have any preferences let me know. Otherwise, you get the special.”
The children seemed to know what to do and cleared their tables for the meal.
“Each child's name is on their lunch and there's milk in the cooler, except Walter is allergic and he gets juice. I gave you a canned soda.” She turned toward the truck “I'll pick up the containers at three. See you.” She slammed the door of the red GMC truck and gunned the motor, sending an odorous cloud of fumes into the classroom.
Glen, the lone sixteen-year-old brought Rene’s lunch to her desk. “Mrs. Nichols, I'd like to talk to you.”
“Of course, Glen, but you need to eat your lunch now.” She uncovered the foam carton and discovered a serving of chicken pot pie with a flaky crust. There were fluffy mashed potatoes, green beans and a golden brown dinner roll with wafts of aromatic steam rising from them.
“Yes, Ma'am,” Glen persisted, “but, this is important.”
She put the lid back on her food. “What is it, Glen?”
“Ma'am,” his face was twisted into a worried frown. “You see, I've just got to graduate.”
“That's what you're here for.”
“No, Ma'am. I mean, yes, Ma'am. The thing is, the other guys want to work in the mines, but I want to graduate as soon as I can.”
“That's great, but why the rush?”
“It's my grandparents. You've met them?”
“Yes.” Rene vividly recalled the Westfalls.
“They're old,” he pronounced heavily.
“They appear to be in good health,” Rene said.
“They want me to go to pharmacy school. They want me to take over the pharmacy.”
“Is this what you want to do?”
“Oh, yes Ma'am!” His face cleared, momentarily. “But, I have to graduate from high school. Then I'll go to stay with my uncle in Washington. He's my mother's brother and he teaches at the university.”
“It sounds like you have a good plan.” Rene hopefully lifted the lid again.
He shook his head. “Is there anyway I can hurry up and graduate. My grandfather can’t keep working much longer. It's too hard on him. If he quits before I finish, the folks around here won't have anyone to fill their prescriptions.”
“I see,” she said.
“Grandpa is determined to hold on till I get back.”
“I'll check into it. Perhaps I can tutor you on the side.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Nichols.” He grinned his appreciation.
“Glen, couldn't one of your parents take over?”
There was a slight pause before he said, “They were killed in an accident.”
Rene expressed her sorrow for his loss and he went back to his seat. When she turned her attention to the meal before her, it seemed to have lost some of its appeal.
~*~
“This is our vehicle?” Maddy asked. Although she had commented on the Rolls Royce limousine, her eyes were on the driver.
“No, Honey,” Ted whispered, a twinkle in his eye. “That's our chauffeur. He just looks like a truck.” To the massive man, he said, “Terrence, right?”
“Yes, sir.” The tall, broad-shouldered man sprang forward. “Terrence Kilbride, at your service.” He opened the door for them and began to stow their bags in the trunk. “I was told your next stop is to be the ruins of Kilcannon castle.” His rich voice rolled from deep in his chest but the words sounded lyrical with the soft Scottish burr almost caressing each syllable.
“That's what was next on our itinerary,” Ted said. “We had a little trouble at the last castle we visited. I don't know if my wife is up to another one.
”
“The ladies usually like to do a bit of shopping,” he said. “We could stop in the wee village of Kilcannon. There are several nice shops where you could purchase hand-knitted sweaters and tartans and a bit of hand-blown crystal. Perhaps the Mrs. would enjoy the shopping.”
“Where did you find this gorilla?” Maddy asked as Ted joined her inside the Rolls.
“I just looked under ‘rent-a-gorilla’ in the local yellow pages.” Ted quirked a smile at her.
“Seriously, Ted, he’s more than a chauffeur, isn't he?”
“Seriously, Maddy, Terrence is a bodyguard who can drive.”
“I don't know how I feel about this,” she said. “I value privacy. We’re taking a stranger on our vacation.”
“You'll get used to him,” Ted assured her. “Besides, many beautiful women have bodyguards. JLo, Cher, Madonna and you.”
Maddy gave Ted a long gaze under her eyelashes, “You really should run for office. You can sweet talk your way out of anything.”
~*~
CHAPTER NINE
Mark watched Maddy’s plane leave the runway, her lapdog of a husband and two brats in tow. He’d wasted another week following behind her without her ever connecting with Rene. Since she hired that great oaf of a chauffer, he’d had no further opportunity to confront her.
He’d lost his temper. When he realized she was headed for the airport he thought she was finally going to meet Rene. Then the chauffer unloaded all the baggage and drove away.
Mark panicked. He couldn’t let Maddy go without giving him an answer.
She took the younger child, Marina, no... Miranda was her name... she took her to get a drink of water and Mark seized the chance to approach her.
“Where is she?’ he hissed. “Where is my wife?”
Maddy turned, a look of surprise on her face. Did she think he would just roll over?
“Go to Daddy,” she whispered in the child’s ear. She stood and smiled at him, more of a smirk, actually. “So you’re still here? I thought we’d seen the last of you.”
“How dare you speak to me like that? You’re talking about my wife, my family.” His hands fisted of their own accord and his pulses throbbed in his ears. He could knock her across the huge room.
She was still smirking at him.
“I want my wife, you bitch!” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fists clenched and opened rhythmically.
“You had a wife, but you don’t deserve her. She’s gone and she’s not coming back to you. If you were smart, which I doubt, you would divorce her. You can keep everything. She wants nothing further to do with you, ever.”
Mark couldn’t help it. He yowled like a wounded animal. He would have grabbed her and shaken the answer out of her, but she looked so calm, like she was in control.
Maddy held up one hand, palm facing Mark, as though her puny hand would stop him.
“Just go ahead and make your move. I can take it.” Her eyes cut to the right.
Mark turned in the direction she’d glanced and saw, not stodgy Dr. Ted, but two armed policemen staring in their direction.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’d love for you to be thrown in a foreign jail to wait for the gears of justice to grind you in their teeth.”
Mark snapped his fingers, aware that she was taunting him, that she was controlling him. “You will live to regret this. I promise you.”
She actually laughed and strolled away, leaving him to stare impotently as she pre-boarded with her family.
It took a few moments for him to realize it was over. There was nothing he could do. He went to the ticketing area, but wasn’t able to get a flight to the US until the following morning.
Still, he didn’t know what to do. He knew Rene had gone to Paris and disappeared there. There was no evidence that she’d ever come to Scotland. Perhaps she met with Maddy when she’d first arrived and was still holed up there. He booked a flight to Paris instead.
He wasted several more days trying to locate Rene in Paris. He gave up trying to look into it himself and hired an investigator. In the meantime he was left to drum his fingers while this man made inquiries. He didn’t know how effective the investigator would be, but at least he spoke the language. Mark headed for the bar in his hotel. As he drank, he tried to decide who he was angriest with, Rene or Maddy. Rene left him. She had betrayed him, but he doubted that she would have done it on her own. His anger was centered on Maddy.
It’s all her fault.
~*~
Somehow, Rene survived the first day of school. On Tuesday and Wednesday the skies were overcast and the children played outside for recess. Thursday and Friday brought a steady drizzle, trapping them inside all day. Rene longed for a television or any audiovisuals. She sent notes home on Friday, inviting the parents to come for a meeting after school the following Tuesday.
The townsfolk prepared for a celebration to mark the summer solstice on June twenty-first, the longest day of the year. Banners stretching across Main Street announced the coming of the Sad Horse Midnight Sun Festival.
Parking in front of the bakery, Rene had barely swung down from the truck, when Mrs. Pindar hailed her and scurried across the street.
“My dear, you have mail,” she said. “And two large packages.”
“My order!” Rene grinned in delight. “I’ll be over after I visit the bakery.”
“I’ve assigned you a mailbox and you’ll need the combination,” Mrs. Pindar said.
Rene set off the jangling bell on the bakery door. She didn’t see or hear Cindy. “Hello,” she called, but received no answer. She called out Cindy’s name. Directing the children to one of the tables, she went around the counter to peek into the kitchen. She heard a muffled noise. Venturing further inside the warm, yeast and cinnamon scented space, she almost stumbled over Cindy on the floor beside the ovens.
Rene fumbled in her purse and found the doctor’s card. Locating the telephone, she dialed the number with trembling fingers.
“Doctor, it’s Cindy! I mean, I’m Rene Nichols but Cindy is on the floor at the bakery. She’s breathing but unconscious.”
“Stay with her. I’m on my way.” Lorelei King spoke more rapidly than Rene had thought possible for a Southern girl.
Rene returned to the stricken woman and listened to her breathing, which seemed to be strong. Cindy groaned slightly as Rene took her hand.
“Cindy! Can you hear me?” Rene leaned close.
“Hurts,” Cindy said through clenched teeth. “I fell. My water broke.” She moaned as she gripped Rene’s hand.
“The doctor’s on her way. What can I do?”
“The baby’s coming. Oh, God! It’s coming right now!”
Rene’s mind raced. What could she do? She heard the front door slam as the bell jangled. Doctor Lorelei King sprinted in carrying a little black doctor’s bag.
“Hey, Cindy,” she greeted her patient. “Are we havin’ this baby, or what?” She whipped out the stethoscope and said to Rene, “See if you can find some clean linen.”
“Pantry!” Cindy said between gasps.
Rene found clean towels and a few tablecloths folded on the shelf. She brought them to the doctor who was listening intently to Cindy’s belly.
“Baby’s heartbeat is strong and steady. Let me have one of the tablecloths down here. You can prop her up a little with the rest. Save one for the baby.” Lorelei was all business and Cindy appeared to be confident in spite of her predicament. “Now, Cindy, you know how to do this. Let’s get on top of your breathing. Rene, help her to keep doing shallow little panting breaths during the contractions and deep, cleansing breaths in between. It won’t be long now.”
After several contractions in rapid succession, Lorelei announced, “Heads crowning! Give me a big push, now.”
Cindy gripped Rene’s hand and took a deep breath, then closed her eyes and pushed the baby’s head out. The infant cried the strange little cry only n
ewborns of all species can make.
“Oh, it’s got great lungs!” Lorelei said. “Take a couple of deep breaths and give me another big push.” The baby’s torso emerged and Lorelei gently drew her from Cindy’s body. “She’s a beauty! Hand me a towel, Rene.”
Rene passed the towel, watching as the doctor wrapped the screaming infant in it. Lorelei suctioned the baby’s mouth and nose and placed her in Cindy’s arms before completing her procedure.
Rene glanced up to see Sara and Seth standing, wide-eyed beside the oven.
“Mommy, it’s so little,” Sara said.
“You were that little,” Seth told her.
“I was not!” she insisted.
“We all start out this little, Honey,” Rene said. “Seth, please take her into the front.”
“It’s all right,” Cindy said. “Come and see the baby, children.”
Seth led Sara to stand by their mother’s side as they solemnly stared at the tiny bundle. Rene used Cindy’s phone to call Buddy to tell him he was, once again, a father. He promised to hurry right over. Rene returned to find her children watching the new baby feeding at her mother’s breast with her tiny fingers clasping Sara’s.
“I’m naming her Rene,” Cindy said.
Rene felt her throat constricting as tears welled in her eyes. “It was my mother’s name, too.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Cindy said, looking up with her own set of tear-filled eyes.
“Hey, you two,” Lorelei said. “Cut that out! I can’t see what I’m doing if I’m crying.”
Just then, Buddy McCorkill and Brett rushed into the kitchen. Buddy knelt beside his wife and new daughter and Brett came to stand behind Rene.
“This baby just came out,” Sara announced.
“I see,” Brett said. “Did you help?”
“No, but Mommy did,” Sara said.
“You seem to have many talents, Miss Rene,” he said, close to her ear.