Chasing the Sunset(31)

Ned squeezed Maggie’s hand between both of his own. “We stood and stared at one another for minutes, without moving, and then I walked over to her and took her hand, just like I am holding yours now. ‘Now,’ I says to her, ‘Tell me where I can be findin’ a minister, because I am thinkin’ I am to be married today.’ And we were.” Ned chuckled. “If you do not think there was an uproar at m’ Uncle’s house that afternoon . . . and again when I took my Siobhan home to my Ma. But we weathered it all together, because we loved one another and we stood together, and that is the way it was for the whole of the five years I had with her. She took sick, Siobhan did, when she was pregnant with our child, and she died of it, and our child along with her.” Ned pressed his lips together.

“Her last words to me were that she loved me and that she was grateful for having the chance to be with me. Grateful! As if she was not the savin’ of me. As if she was not the best thing that ever happened to me. The best moment in m’ whole life was the day I met her.”

Ned patted Maggie’s knee, and smiled enigmatically into her red-rimmed eyes. “But she knew, Maggie dear, that it is only one in a hundred who can look below the surface to the person

beneath. She knew that most people are too scared to see that deeply and feel that deeply, and much too frightened to love another that fully.”

He wiped his eyes again, and laughed a shaky laugh. “I am the one who is grateful, Maggie girl, grateful that I got my five years with my Siobhan, grateful that I did not stop with the surface of her but saw straight through to her gallant heart, and even though it like to killed me when she died, I do not regret one single minute of loving that rough, foul-mouthed, lovely girl.”

“I have got to get back to my work, Maggie.” He rose to his feet and Ned started out, then stopped in the doorway of the stall, his back still to her.

“You should think about something, though, something that Siobhan taught me. Love is never wasted, never without a reason, and you should clutch it to you with both hands whenever you find it. To throw love away is the only unforgivable sin, Maggie. Do not be afraid of it; do not spend the rest of your life wondering what if. Live now, and worry about the consequences later.”

And for the second time in as many days, he walked away and left Maggie speechless behind him.

Ned’s words resounded in her head for the rest of the day. Kathleen, too, seemed preoccupied, and they worked side by side most of the morning in silence. Maggie figured if Kathleen wanted to talk about what was bothering her, she would do it, and so she did not wheedle for information, did not ask her what put that worried look in her eyes. She, as well as anyone, knew that some secrets are not meant to be shared. Even the men at lunchtime could see that Kathleen was not up to their usual teasing, and left her alone. After the noon meal, Kathleen had volunteered to polish all the silver, a job that she ordinarily detested, and Maggie figured it was so that she could be alone in the small room off the kitchen where they usually sat together to do that nasty job. Maggie let her go without comment.

Nick had refused to meet her eyes all day; he was back to avoiding her and Maggie would have pulled all his hair out in a screaming tantrum if she thought that it would help. Unfortunately, she did not think that it would. He had made up his mind again and he planned on denying the feelings he had for her, but she was not going to let him get away with it, not this time. She contemplated her situation as she pounded bread dough a little more violently than necessary, and her mouth firmed. If this was the only chance she had, her only shot at happiness, she was going to take it. How much would Ned have missed if he had not had the strength to marry his Siobhan?

Tommy came into the kitchen to beg some leftover cherry pie, and Maggie laughed when he cut himself a slice as big as three ordinary ones.

“Why didn’t you just eat it out of the tin?” she teased. “There is hardly anything left now.”

He grinned up at her, and Maggie noticed that one of his eyeteeth overlapped just a tiny bit and that small imperfection in his otherwise perfect smile endeared him to her all the more. She sat down beside him; she could leave those dishes for later. They would still be there when she decided to go back to them, but Tommy might not.

“I figured you would yell at me,” he said. “You eat it. You have got time to sit and talk with me with me now, and that is good pie.”

Maggie figured that was good advice, and she did eat it out of the tin, much to Tommy’s amusement, but she did not see the point in dirtying another dish. She listened to Tommy chatter on about the stables, and Ned, and Nick, and any subject that came to mind, and she smiled internally. The boy must save up all his conversation all morning, waiting until he came to the

house to spill it all. He unconsciously inched his chair closer and closer to hers while they talked, so that eventually his leg was resting right up against hers. Maggie had noticed this habit of Tommy’s before, they had all remarked on it at one time or another, and his involuntary search for human touch pierced her tender heart with a sharp pain. She leaned forward a little and put her hand on his arm, and Tommy glowed at her, his animated gestures and conversation never slowing for a minute. Finally he sighed, and looked down at his empty plate.

“I guess I better go before Ned comes huntin’ me, Miss Maggie.” He peeped over at her shyly from under his lashes. "Miss Maggie? Can I tell you something?"

"Of course, Tommy," she said warmly.

"I am glad you ain’t scared of us no more like you was when you first got here. I knowed you was scared ‘cause I used to be that way, and I remember what it feels like. This is a good place, and I’m glad you come here. I kinda feel like, you know, since I don’t have one . . . I pretend sometimes . . . like you are my . . . my family."

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears. She stared at him for long moments without words, until he began to squirm uneasily, afraid that he had made a horrible mistake and that Maggie did not feel the same way about him that he felt about her. Then she grabbed him in a hard hug for so long that his face turned a bright red, and when he spoke again, his voice came out in a squeak.

"I love you, Maggie," he whispered, and she whispered the sentiment right back, then pretended not to see when he wiped his eyes on his shirt sleeve. He gave her a wobbly smile that held all the joys of a day in the sunshine, then scurried out the back door quickly, before he could be forced to participate in any more mushy talk.

Maggie called a goodbye after him, and watched the gangly boy lope out to the stables. He was all arms and legs and showed promise of becoming a big man. At fourteen, he was already inches taller than her, and was still growing like a weed. He ate enough for two or even three field hands; Maggie had watched in astonishment one day as he ate the equivalent of a whole chicken, plus a huge pile of mashed potatoes, three slices of bread, and massive amounts of vegetables. The men were always taking bets on how much he could eat that day; Tommy took their teasing in stride, accepting it for the affection that it was.

Kathleen left for the day, the silver all done. She gave Maggie a half-hearted smile and headed out the door. Maggie frowned after her and sighed. Whatever was bothering Kathleen was her problem, and she would not meddle. Lord knows she had as many problems as she could deal with already, but she sure wished Kathleen would talk about it. Whatever it was, it was not like Kathleen to be so quiet about anything, and Maggie could tell that whatever was wrong was something big.

Dinner was a silent affair; Nick still was not talking, and Maggie toyed with her food. Ned ate quickly and left and even Tommy picked up on the atmosphere, his puzzled gaze going from person to person in silence.

Maggie went to watch the fox kittens, but Duncan did not show up, and she did not stay long. She stared morosely into the river for a little while. Its dark depths seemed to hold secrets tonight; the swish of the wind through the trees, the chattering of birds and squirrels, the tinkling of the water did not soothe her as it usually did. Maggie went home, resigned to an early bedtime.

She had a hard time falling to sleep that night; tossing and turning and trying to find a spot on the bed that was comfortable. The mattress that was usually so much to her liking seemed to have developed lumps and bumps overnight, and every time she turned over, Maggie found another one. Her soft feather pillow was suffocating, and she threw it on the floor in exasperation, putting her head on a coverlet instead. Her dreams, when she finally drifted off, were peopled with monsters hiding behind smiling faces in hazy, smoke-filled rooms. When she came awake with a start, having no idea why, her heart was pounding so hard she was certain that she could see it through her nightdress.

A heavy hand covered her mouth and kept in the scream rising in her throat. All Maggie could see was a shadow looming over her, and the dark, phantom figure reminded her so very much of her recent dreams that she fought wildly. Maggie twisted and flailed, trying to escape. The harsh, hoarse whisper finally penetrated her terror and she stopped struggling.

“Miss Maggie! Miss Maggie! Don’t be scared. It’s me, Tommy.”