by Jill Metcalf
And Pride to help us save Treemont, she thought…
“I’ve thought of it often,” she added. “And it was you who gave it all to me.”
“Me?”
“If you had not been such an insistent ogre, I would never have left this place, never have loved or been loved, and never have known the joy of carrying our child.”
“So, you don’t mind that I was such an ‘insistent ogre’?”
“How could I mind? I feel wonderful and I’m happy and I think I am very, very fortunate.”
“I’m glad you haven’t been ill all this time,” he said, placing his hand on her stomach. “I would have felt guilty if you had been.”
“And I would have seen to it that you did.”
He laughed at that. Then, stared once again at the closed door, “Well I suppose we should devise a plan for getting out of here.”
“I don’t really think we need to escape.”
His attention turned to her teasing smile. “Don’t you, now?”
She shook her head. “I think you should kiss me again. I mucked up the last one by laughing.”
And he did…several times, in fact…and Maggie found herself praying that the magic would never go out of this, that there would always be this sweet, vibrant intensity between them that was so like a drug.
Eventually Hunter raised his head and smiled at the sleepy-eyed gaze she cast up at him. “You are a devilish temptress.”
“I am?”
“You are,” he said firmly. “As pregnant as you are, I could take right here this very moment. Why is it I never stop wanting you incessantly?”
Her smile remained serene. “Why is it I want you never to stop wanting me?”
He laughed softly. “I think we’d best get out of here or you’ll seduce me amongst the dust covers.”
“I?” she questioned innocently.
Hunter, studying the heated look in those ice-blue eyes, muttered, “Oh, hell,” and pressed his lips to hers again.
They were still uncomfortably sprawled on the steps when Marie-Louise swung open the attic door.
“Well,” she drawled, resting her shoulder against the wooden frame. “And I thought playing in the attic was reserved for rainy days.”
Maggie struggled to sit upright, but Hunter lounged on the steps, shaking his head with wry disappointment.
“We were locked in here,” Maggie said primary in the face of the other woman’s knowing smile.
“Uh-huh.”
“We were,” Maggie returned, trying with little success not to blush. “There’s the doorknob on the step.”
Marie-Louise gave the hardware a suspicious glance. “What were you doing up here anyway?”
“We were fetching a cradle,” Hunter put in.
When no such item caught her gaze in the immediate area, Marie-Louise shot him a taunting grin.
Hunter could deal with the woman’s teasing, but Maggie was still blushing. “Jeffrey will have to help carry it down,” she said, hiding her face in the act of getting to her feet. Hunter pushed on her back and then stood beside her. “I mean, really, Marie-Louise,” Maggie continued as she stepped through the open door. “We’re going to have two babies in this house soon, and it’s time we started to prepare a nursery for them.”
Marie-Louise winked wickedly at Hunter and drawled, “Uh-huh.”
Maggie laughed then, giving in to the woman’s penchant for good-natured teasing. Raising her eyes toward the ceiling, she said, “I believe I hear rain.”
CHAPTER 28
Spring was the most colorful and wonderful time of year at Treemont. Magnolias blossomed large and pink and white and the sweet bouquet of honey-suckle seasoned the air in the early evening hours. The lawns, along with the fields Hunter had chosen to use as pasture turned rich green, carpeting the earth for miles around. Trees blossomed and budded and would soon shade the house with new leaves.
It was Maggie’s favorite time. When she could persuade Hunter to abandon his work for a short while, her slow gentle pace would inevitably lead them to the orchard. They would walk slowly among the trees, taking in the sweet scent of blossoms as they talked softly of private things, of hopes and dreams that had melded into mutual desires over the short span of their marriage.
“When I was very young I used to love walking here, particularly during springtime,” Maggie said one day as they skirted an apple tree. “Then for a while I stopped coming.”
“Did you, Maggie?” he asked softly. “Why?”
Maggie frowned as she considered his question. “I’m not certain why,” she said, tipping her head to look up at him. “But during the time I was most unhappy I avoided this place. Strange,” she added thoughtfully, “because it would have reminded me of happier times and I might have felt better.”
Hunter stopped walking and turned her until they were facing each other. “And does it remind you of happier times now?” he asked as he placed the palm of his hand against her cheek. The loving look she sent him in the instant was one he would never forget.
“Hunter, I’ve had no happier times that those I’ve spent with you.”
*
March gave way to April, the days warmed and the sun shone between the soft showers that replenished the earth and nurtured all that grew. The new barn was complete now. The old one and the exterior of the house had received fresh coats of paint, and preparations for Pride’s debut intensified.
Denise often came to help Maggie and Marie-Louise during these days. Tim frequently drove her to Treemont and left her there while he made is rounds of visiting the sick. He had long ago explained to his young wife the burden Hunter and Maggie were sharing over the fate of Treemont. Denise had denied the information out of hand, claiming Tim must be mistaken. But as they discussed the matter further, it became obvious to her that Hunter had taken her husband into his confidence. Everything Tim had told her was totally incredible, but true.
Denise joined ranks with her sister then, throwing herself into any task that gave the less-than-agile women difficulty.
“Have we done all that needs doing?” Denise asked on the Friday before the event.
Maggie sipped her tea and nodded her head. “We’ll make some small cakes tomorrow, but everything else is ready.” Her hand dropped back to her lap then, weaving a fine needle through a piece of delicate pale blue cloth.
“It’s beautiful, Maggie,” Denise said, her eyes roaming over the high cradle at Maggie’s side. “But how can you be so certain you’re having a boy?”
“I want all boys.”
Denis frowned. “Why, for heaven’s sake?”
“Because boys are better equipped to look after themselves,” Maggie explained easily. “Although Hunter knows a few tricks to help a girl fend for herself.”
“That’s silly, Mag,” Denise admonished, her frown deepening when Maggie raised serious eyes to her sister. “Have you talked to Hunter about the way you feel?”
“Hunter would understand,” Maggie said firmly and returned her attention to her sewing.
“You can’t be sure you’ll have boys.”
“I realize that.”
Denise was clearly baffled by this attitude; it seemed extreme, to say the least, particularly for a woman who had been raised with three sisters.
Suddenly an old nagging question returned to the younger sister’s mind…a question she had never been certain she wanted answered. But perhaps the answer was the reasoning behind Maggie’s strange notion. Denise dropped to her knees and placed her hand on Maggie’s arm. “I’ve wondered, Mag,” she whispered. “That man who struck you…?”
Maggie took a deep breath, set her sewing aside, and looked directly into Denise’s eyes. “It was wrong of me to leave you wondering,” she said softly. “It was very wrong but so difficult to talk about at the time. Papa seemed not to want it mentioned…he seemed to think it best…” she faltered then. “The man raped me, Denise.”
“Oh, God, Maggie,” Denise bre
athed and then dropped her head to her sister’s lap, crying softly.
Maggie raised a hand and lightly stroked her younger sister’s fine, soft hair as she looked into the understanding eyes of her husband as he entered the room. “But it doesn’t matter anymore,” she said quietly as she and Hunter continued to stare lovingly at each other. “Don’t you see, Dennie?” she repeated, “it simply doesn’t matter anymore. It’s in my past and I’ve had loving help to recover. And there is so much more in my future.”
*
Sunday dawned bright and beautifully warm and Maggie suggested they set the wooden lawn chairs on the grass in front of the house. A flock of small tables were also brought out. Here the guests could mingle and chat before the men strolled off to the paddock where Pride would be strutting free for their scrutiny, and to view the various facilities. The day was simply too perfect to spend indoors.
Tim and Denise arrived early in the morning, bringing with them some very good news.
“I’ve had two inquiries about this service of yours,” Tim said to Hunter.
Both Hunter and Maggie were thrilled by this. “Really?” Hunter asked. “By whom?”
“Two of my patients who know we are related. They will both be here this afternoon, apparently, and I understand they’ve spread the word. I’ll introduce you once they arrive.”
Hunter smiled at his wife, who was glowing with health and anticipation. “That’s an encouraging start,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“I hope Pride lives up to his name,” Maggie said, the words slipping out innocently. She colored lightly as the men laughed at her wide-eyed dismay. How could she have alluded to ‘passion’ within earshot of three men?
But then Jeffrey announced that he thought he heard the wheels of a carriage approaching and Maggie, nor the others, gave anymore thought to her indiscretion.
Treemont took on a festive air as the afternoon progressed. Looking exceptionally lovely in a high-waisted gown of summer blue, white stockings, and soft, pale blue slippers, Maggie wandered across the lawns, chatting with ladies of old and new acquaintance. Jennifer seemed happy running back and forth to fetch iced tea and lemonade for the guests while Florence moved more quietly at a much more dignified pace, offering cakes and delicate sandwiches from the tray she carried.
At one point, Hunter passed close behind Florence, who had just celebrated her fourteenth birthday and paused to take a sandwich. “You look exceptionally lovely today, Florence,” he said, and she smiled with barely a hint of a blush. “But don’t let any of these young bucks turn your head just yet. We want to enjoy your company for a few more years.” He touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips and moved away. Florence’s smile became a bit brighter as she moved among the women; she knew she was becoming a more confident person because of Hunter and Maggie and the attention they showered upon her…and she loved them both all the more for their understanding.
Carriages, phaetons, and other vehicles arrived and departed throughout the afternoon, and Maggie had no opportunity to question Hunter about the success of the day. He would appear across the lawn talking with a group of men and would then stroll off with them toward the barns and paddocks. Occasionally, throughout the long afternoon, she caught his eye and he smiled or waved a greeting, but they were both caught up in their individual roles.
Marie-Louise had chosen not to join the festivities, claiming she would be uncomfortable waddling amongst the guest. Besides, she knew that if she sat down in one of those deep-seated lawn chairs, she would never be able to get up. Instead she spent a relatively quiet afternoon in the kitchen, refilling trays with the cakes and sandwiches they had prepared.
Late in the afternoon Maggie returned to the kitchen bearing two empty trays and found Marie-Louise leaning heavily against one of the counters. After quickly setting the trays down, she dashed to the other woman’s side.
“Are you all right?”
Marie-Louise smiled grimly and nodded her head, but Maggie took a good look in time to see the woman grimace and instantly understood.
“Marie-Louise, don’t you dare,” she demanded. “Not today.”
“You should have mentioned that about six hours ago, Maggie,” she suggested and straightened, gripping the small of her back with one hand.
“Oh, my God.”
“Well,” she drawled, “let’s look on the bright side of this. If you tell all of those people what’s going on, they’ll think there’s something prolific about Treemont and Hunter will get more contracts signed.”
Maggie could only laugh at the woman’s wit. “You are something, Marie-Louise,” she said. “I think we should get you upstairs to your room.”
“You’re not strong enough to help me up those stairs, Maggie. I think you’d best get my Jeff.”
Maggie nodded her head and helped her friend into a chair before dashing back outside.
Jeffrey went into a flip and charged into the house leaving Maggie standing alone halfway between the new barn and the house.
Hunter had watched his friend leave on the run and approached Maggie quickly. “Don’t tell me,” he whispered.
Maggie grinned.
“Well, what should we do?” he asked helplessly.
She laughed then. “Darling, this is the first time since I’ve known you that you’ve to fail to know exactly what to do under any circumstance.”
“Well,” he returned, chagrined, “this doesn’t happen every day.”
“It will happen, one way or another, if your plan works,” she teased and rose up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Go sign those contracts, dear husband.” And she left him standing there while she went in search of Tim
Chaos seemed to rein supreme for hours after that.
Tim and Denise shooed Maggie away from the second floor.
“But I can help,” Maggie said unhappily. “I’m her friend. I should be with her.”
Denise turned her sister by a shoulder. “She’s got Jeffrey and she’s got us,” she said. “Now scoot.”
Maggie took one look at the nervous, perspiring man and doubted that anyone should rely upon Jeffrey at that moment. The brief, hesitant look she flashed over her shoulder made Denise laugh.
“It’s all right. Get on with you.”
Maggie found Hunter in a condition similar to Jeffrey’s…pacing the parlor floor. “Not you, too,” she said.
He turned at the sound of her voice. “How is she?”
“Are you going to be like this when our baby comes?”
He grinned. “Worse.”
Maggie laughed and clutched his arm. “Have the last of the guests gone?” she asked.
Hunter nodded his head and somehow his foolish grin turned to one of triumph.
Maggie’s heart bumped against her ribs, and the baby kicked her solidly for her lack of consideration. “Tell me,” she breathed.
Hunter reached inside his coat and withdrew five folded pieces of paper from his vest pocket. “And possibly two more will sign later this week.”
Maggie’s eyes widened as she stared at the contracts in his hands. And then she dared to ask the question that could mean the life or death of Treemont. “Will it be enough?”
Her eyes rose slowly to those of her husband, and he was smiling, slowly nodding his head.
“It’s a damned good start, little one,” he said. “I think we’ll make it.”
“It’s a boy!” Jeffrey bellowed from the top of the stairs.
Hunter looked upward just as Maggie rose up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“You did it!” she cried.
“I did not.”
“I meant you saved Treemont,” she cried again, laughing now.
“We did it, Maggie,” he said, hugging her close and setting humor aside. “All of us.”
EPILOGUE
June evenings were close to perfect, Maggie thought as she walked slowly beside her husband to the double wooden swing Hunter had
suspended from the ceiling of the porch. They liked to spend the warm clear evenings sitting there, watching the sunsets and the clouds drifting across the sky or a new moon chasing a few stars was equally as pleasing. The air was warm and fragrant in June, before the burdensome heat and humidity of July descended, and often Maggie was loath to go inside even when it grew quite late.
Hunter held the swing in place with one hand and took Maggie's hand with the other. "You're not getting any better at this, love," he teased.
She shot him a mock glare. "Well, you should try sitting on something that moves when your body barely will."
"Point taken," he said dryly, and then he smiled as he sat down and eased her against his side.
"It's such a beautiful night." She sighed, dropping her head onto his shoulder.
"And I think you're very tired."
"But I don't want to go inside. Not yet," she added softly.
Hunter's hand slowly stroked her upper arm as they enjoyed the peace of being alone together at the end of the day.
"Hunter," she said softly after a time. "I've never thanked you."
"For what, little one?"
"For saving me as well as Treemont."
"I didn't save you, darling," he whispered. "I simply refused to let you live without me."
Maggie turned her head against his shoulder and smiled up at him. "I'm glad you did."
"Even now?" he teased has his hand stroked down her swollen body.
"Even now."
Hunter nodded his head and lightly touched her cheek before raising a subject he had been mulling over for months. "I think we should stay on here, Maggie."
That would be wonderful, but…"You have your…"
"I've been thinking about it a lot lately. Treemont is your home, and Florence and Jennifer might be unhappy if we uproot them now. Pride has drawn a lot of attention here, and I think we'll make a go of the stud service. It only makes sense to stay."
"And Jeffrey and Marie-Louise?"
Hunter stared up at the clear, darkening sky and said thoughtfully, "We'll ask them, but I sense they would also like to remain."