Chasing the Sunset(42)

He wheeled his horse around and set off at a sedate walk. Maggie lifted a hand in farewell. Three pairs of female eyes watched him leave the property, all with a different emotion in their depths; one pair resentful, one definitely appreciative of his male beauty, and the other filled with warm affection.

Nick called out to Maggie. “Come down and meet my cousins, Maggie!” She walked over to them somewhat reluctantly, nervously smoothing her hair, and offered her hand to Joanne, who grasped it in both of hers and smiled beatifically.

“Kathleen has written me all about you,” she said warmly. “I feel as if we already know each other.”

“And I, too,” said Ronald. “Though after seeing you in person, I would prefer to know you much better.” He winked at her outrageously, and Maggie laughed. The two siblings were alike as peas in a pod; healthy, handsome specimens both possessing silky smooth black hair, white skin, and eyes that were a dark, startling blue up close, though Ronald’s feature were a bit coarser and more masculine than his sister’s were. Kathleen pinched the skin covering his ribs, and he yelped and winced away.

“Stop that flirting, Ronald,” she said severely. “You will scare her. She does not know you are a great big windbag like I do.”

“You are so good for my ego, Kathleen,” he said to the diminutive blond. “I am happy to realize after all these years what your opinion of me is. A great big windbag.”

He scowled at her. “And I am wounded, if you had not noticed. I could use some sympathy. I slipped on the paved path in the garden the day before we left Boston. Spent the whole trip in agony, both from the arm and from being trapped in close quarters for weeks with Joanne. Have a care with me, now.” Kathleen smirked at him.

Joanne linked her arm through Maggie’s and started to stroll toward the house.

“Ignore them,” she said. “They are like a couple of children. Tell me, do you have a pot of coffee going in the kitchen? I am near to frozen, and I am dying to sit before a fire. Hurry up and get my bags, Nick,” she called over her shoulder. “You would not want me to start telling terrible stories about you without you there to defend yourself, now would you?”

“You would not happen to have any food in there, would you?” called Ronald after them. “Joanne has near starved me to death on the way here. She thinks that because she does not need to do it that often, eating must be a waste of valuable time. I vow, I have gone down to skin and bone on this trip. It is a good thing that it did not take any longer to get here. A few more days and I might have expired of hunger.”

“I had a devil of a time getting us here, let me tell you. I thought at first we could get passage on a ship and then come the rest of the way overland, but that was not to be. We traveled the entire way by land, and it has been a long trip, let me tell you. The coachman did nothing but whine and complain, and when he fell ill I thought at first that he must be feigning it just to get out of the journey. Because you know he did not want to bring us at first, but I told him that I simply must get to Missouri, and eventually he changed his mind. Ronald was no use at all once the coachman became ill, because of the broken arm, you see, and I had to do simply everything.” Joanne stopped and smiled at Maggie.

“Listen to me chatter on. It is just because I have not had a woman to talk to in weeks. I was surrounded by men whose sole purpose in life, it seems, is to keep me from doing what I want, and I declare I do not know why I just have not gone right ‘round the bend. But now that I’m here, with some acceptable company,” and she threw a speaking glance at her twin as she said the last two words, “I am sure that I will feel much better in no time at all."

Maggie found herself laughing helplessly as they all settled comfortably before the fire. This outrageous woman had a way of getting everyone to do exactly as she wanted so smoothly that you almost did not realize that you had been cleverly manipulated. There was no malice in Joanne, though, and Maggie could not help but like her and Ronald. They were amusing companions, the twins were, and they all laughed so hard over their coffee–and the cookies that Kathleen had unearthed for Ronald–that Maggie’s stomach actually ached.

Joanne leaned forward and touched the brooch that Maggie wore on the collar of her dress. "What a lovely brooch," she exclaimed. "May I see it?"

Maggie unfastened the pin and handed it to her. Joanne turned it over in her hands, examining the signature closely.

"This was painted by Suisan O’Roarke, is it not? I recognize the signature," Joanne said crisply. "This is probably quite valuable. The art world lost a great painter when she died. She was from Boston originally, you know, before she moved to St. Louis. I believe the stableman here, Ned, was her brother-in-law. That is how our association with her came about; our mother saw one of the oils hanging in the dining room and commissioned a portrait through Ned. She traveled all the way back to Boston and stayed with us for an entire month, do you remember, Ronald?" She turned her bright eyes upon her cousin. "You remember seeing it, do you not, Nick? It is hanging in Mother’s sitting room, above the sofa. We were about ten when she painted us, and Mrs. O’Roarke got us just right. You can almost see Ronald thinking about reaching out and pulling my braid."

Maggie felt a terrible fear strike her heart. If Joanne and Ronald knew her mother, had they discovered the terrible secret that Suisan O’Roarke’s daughter carried in her heart? She shuddered, and felt her head spin. She could feel the color practically draining from her face, and she reached for her cup of coffee to hide her expression from them all. She tried without success to still her trembling fingers. What a horrible coincidence.

"That is serendipity for you, Joanne. Suisan O’Roarke was Maggie’s mother," Nick told his cousin.

Joanne slowly raised one eyebrow, and handed the brooch back to Maggie. "Oh?" she said, her gaze turning speculative, her eyes holding Maggie’s until she stirred uneasily in her overstuffed chair and hid her face in her coffee cup again. "I thought that Suisan O’Roarke’s daughter had married," she said. "That is what I had heard, in any event, about a year after her death."

"I am a widow," Maggie said, fighting to stay calm, her spine ramrod straight and her shoulders back. Show nothing, she warned herself. Do not let her see that these questions make you nervous. Kathleen caught her eye and gave her an encouraging smile. Maggie took heart from the fact that Kathleen would support her, no matter what happened. She took a deep breath and went on. "I was married for a little less than three years. When my husband died, I came to be near my Uncle Ned, who is the only family I have left."

Nick, being somewhat perceptive, sensed something amiss in the stilted conversation between the two and his eyes flicked back and forth between them, his black brows drawing together in a frown.

"That is interesting," Joanne said, her perceptive gaze probing deeply. Maggie felt a shiver run down her spine, but she held Joanne’s gaze steadily. Finally, Joanne seemed to come to some conclusion that no one else was privy to. "She was quite famous, you know, and extremely talented,” she said smoothly. "You must be very proud. Her paintings are simply wonderful, as I am sure that you know. Nick, did not you tell me once that the painting of hers in the dining room is your very favorite?"

"Yes, it is," Nick said warmly. "It is a rendering of the Mississippi river, and so lifelike that you feel as if your hand would get wet if you reached out to touch the water."

Joanne smiled then and began to ask Kathleen about various members of her family, and Maggie let out the breath that she had not realized she had been holding. The frown line between Nick’s eyes gradually disappeared. He had no idea what that was all about, and as secretive as Joanne was, chances were that he never would. Whatever it was, it was over now. No sense worrying about it.

“So, cousin, you still have not said what brings you here,” Nick finally prodded, still bright red after several recounted stories of his misspent youth.

Joanne glowed. She bent forward and grasped his hand. “We are going to stay right through the holidays,” she cried. “You will never guess . . . Mother’s getting remarried! She met him at one of the poetry readings that she is always going to. Axel, that is her fiancée, is the cousin of some obscure poet that she admires tremendously. He owns a string of dress shops in Boston, Axel, that is, not the poet, and I am sure you can imagine Mother caused quite a scandal when she announced their impending nuptials!" A dimple popped up in one cheek as her smile widened.

"But she does not care. She has told me that she never expected to marry again, and that she does not give a fig for anyone’s opinion of Axel except her own. Axel wanted to take her to visit his family in St. Louis, get married there and stay through Christmas and the New Year, but Ronald and I did not want to spend the entire winter with total strangers. Axel is German, and he let it be known that most of his relatives do not speak English and we do not speak German, so we gave Mother our blessing and decided to come and see you. We thought it the perfect solution, do you not agree? Axel, who is a perfect dear, seemed very much relieved that we were not staying with them, to tell the truth. He is some years younger than Mother, though she does not look older, of course. I do not think that he relished explaining her grown children to his parents, and without us there, he will not have to.”