Moonlight on the Millpond Page 3
“What did you do?”
“We worked the barges that transported wares all up and down the river.”
“And that was what year again?” Jace asked.
“I guess we actually started in 1808 and went for four years or so. Why, that was before Maddie was born.” Doyle gave a small laugh. “Daniel wasn’t even married yet, let alone having children.”
“Where is your brother now?”
“He and Vera drowned on that very river. Maddie was just a baby, almost drowned with ’em, but the boat captain grabbed her when she floated past and took her to shore. Dan and Vera were coming to visit us, but they never made it.”
“And we raised her,” Cathy added, her voice wistful. “We raised Maddie and made her our own. We were heartsick about those deaths, but we had a sickly baby to raise and no time to mourn.”
Jace sat quietly and took this in. When he was very young, his own parents had died in a flu epidemic that swept through their area. From that point, he’d been raised by his sister. It was interesting to think that this niece, this woman he’d not yet met, had something in common with him.
“Enough of the past,” Doyle said gruffly. “We sound like we’re in our dotage, Cathleen! Now, tell us, Jace, what will you plant in the south field this year?”
And that was the end of the reminiscing. Even though Jace had questions about their past life, he knew they would have to wait. He told Doyle and Cathy what Woody had relayed to him, swift to remind them that it was all new for him. He was still in his first year in Tucker Mills.
The change in topic seemed to do the trick. Doyle relaxed in his chair, Cathy began to smile again, and eventually she brought in a tea tray. Jace couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such an enjoyable evening.
Boston
“It’s not my aunt’s arm this time, Mrs. Nunley,” Maddie explained, Cathy’s letter still between her fingers. “It’s Doyle’s heart, and he needs to rest for some time.”
“Of course you must go,” Mrs. Nunley said, hiding her disappointment. She and Mr. Nunley were planning a trip later in the year or early the following year. They had planned to surprise Paige and Maddie by taking them both along. At the moment Mrs. Nunley was so relieved that she’d never mentioned this to Maddie that her face gave a false impression.
“Please, Mrs. Nunley, please tell me you understand. I can’t stay when they need me.”
“Come here, Maddie,” she said gently, taking the younger woman’s hand when she drew near. Maddie sat beside her on the settee. “I want you to go, and for as long as you need. I grew quiet only when a stray thought wandered in.” Mrs. Nunley paused long enough to brush Maddie’s cheek with one soft finger. “You’ll go just as soon as the next train leaves. Mr. Nunley will buy your ticket.”
“Thank you,” Maddie whispered, fearing that her employer would not understand. If Maddie could have given her some element of time, that would have been ideal, but she didn’t know when she would be back in Boston. It could be months from now or never, depending on what Doyle and Cathy needed.
It was true that she had moved away at 17 to make a life for herself, but that had not been done with hard feelings or a desire to flee Tucker Mills. Her family needed her, and if she’d been forced to sever all ties with the Nunleys in order to leave, she was willing to do just that.
“Go now and start to pack,” Mrs. Nunley told her, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’ll send word to Mr. Nunley, and we’ll get you on your way.”
Maddie thanked her sincerely but didn’t linger. She slipped into her own room just minutes later and began to organize her things. She hadn’t been working for more than 20 minutes when Paige appeared at her door. Even in a home as large as this one, word seemed to travel fast.
“When do you leave?” Paige asked, tears sounding suspiciously close.
“As soon as I can get a train.”
“What am I going to do?”
“Well, you could try writing one of the books you keep thinking up,” Maddie teased her gently.
Paige sighed and flopped onto Maddie’s bed. The younger girl had always been welcome.
“Why don’t I go with you?” Paige asked, eyes on the ceiling and willing herself not to cry.
“For a number of reasons.”
“Name one.”
“I’ll do better than that,” Maddie continued as she sorted and packed. “I’ll name several: Your parents would never approve. This is not a vacation; it’s work. You have never lived in anything but the lap of luxury, and the Shephards do not live that way. And lastly, you would be bored silly when I was working all day and not able to be with you.”
Maddie stopped working, and their eyes met. She went on quietly. “I’ll miss you—you know that—but I have to go. I want to more than anything. Even if I stayed, my heart would be elsewhere.”
“Like with that man,” Paige surprised her by saying.
“What made you think of that?”
“Oh, just when you were seeing him, your mind was elsewhere.”
“I can believe that,” Maddie said, able to speak of it after so many years. “And what a waste of time he turned out to be.”
“I’m not ever going to be married!” Paige said, not for the first time. “I’m never going to let a man hurt me like that.”
Since Maddie now felt the same way, with maybe slightly less teenage zeal, she could hardly argue with the girl. She opted to say nothing, simply going back to her packing.
“Tell me about Tucker Mills,” Paige begged, having stared at the ceiling for a time.
“It’s small and wonderful. The people care and work hard.”
“And you were born there?”
“No, I was born in Worcester, but my parents died when I was very young, so Doyle and Cathy raised me.”
“Don’t you call them Aunt and Uncle?” Paige asked in astonishment, knowing that Maddie knew better.
“They never led me to believe that I was their child. I always knew they were my aunt and uncle, but they didn’t want those words coming out of my mouth with every sentence, so they’ve always just been Cathy and Doyle.”
“Maddie,” Paige said, suddenly voicing another thought, “women don’t work in Boston shops. Is it so very different in a small town?”
“Actually, it’s not, but folks seem to accept it a little more. I grew up in the store, and Cathy comes and goes throughout the week. It’s not normal, but folks will understand, especially with Doyle being ill.”
Paige took this in for a quiet moment. When she realized that her mind had drifted, she looked to see that Maddie was almost done. Tears flooded her eyes, tears she could not stop. Maddie saw them and went to her. She put her arms around Paige, truly sorry to be leaving with so little warning but knowing she had no choice. Leaving for Tucker Mills just as soon as she was able was the right thing to do.
Tucker Mills
Woody and Jace started the day very early at the sawmill. The orders were being filled quickly, and both were ready to be done. There was a sense of completeness that came with such tasks, and both men worked hard on the job.
Neither man had heard the train in the early hours, even though it was running way behind and had arrived in the wee hours instead of the afternoon before. They had both awakened early because of it but not attributed the disturbance to the distant sound of the train. Certainly neither one knew that Maddie Shephard had come to town.
It was a cool morning, but Cathy wanted the spring air to rush inside and give the store a good smell, a smell of cleanliness and fresh goods. Her mind was on this when she opened the doors, so she didn’t look outside. It was for this reason that she was behind the counter before seeing who had come in.
Weary from the train ride, Maddie stood still and waited to be noticed. It had been a few years since she’d been back. All would probably have looked the same to her, but the only person she could see right now was Cathleen Shephard, who took a moment to become aware of her.
“Maddie,” Cathy suddenly whispered, her hand going to her heart and her body moving around the end of the counter all at the same time. “When did you get here? Why didn’t you come to the house?”
The women hugged each other for a long time, so long Maddie forgot she’d been asked a question.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Maddie’s tired brain tried to think.
“When did you get here? Just now? I didn’t hear the train.”
“No, it was a few hours ago.”
“You poor dear. Were you sitting outside?”
“I wanted to let you sleep,” Maddie replied, evading the interrogation. “Now stop with the questions, Cathy, and tell me about Doyle.”
Cathy stopped and looked at her, not an ounce of worry on her face.
“As soon as I said I was sending for you, he relaxed. He’s been resting ever since.”
“And what about you? How are you doing with it all?”
“Well, Mic is some help, and I just do what I can.”
Maddie looked into her face. She looked tired but not older. Maddie hoped that was a good sign.
“Who is Mic?”
“A young man we hired until you could come.”
Maddie smiled. Weary as she was, there was no dimming the light in those blue eyes.
“Well, I’m here now. I’ll take care of you both.”
Cathy pulled her back into her arms. They hugged again for a long time, stopping only when Maddie said that as soon as she’d run next door to kiss her uncle and then returned and found an apron, she’d be ready to work.
“Maddie’s in town,” Woody told Clara over dinner.
“Is she now?” Clara set the coffeepot down, interest in her face. “When did she get in?”
“Just today, according to everyone who stopped by the mill.”
“Good. If anyone can get Doyle to take a rest, it’s Maddie.”
Jace didn’t comment on any of this, not because he had something against the Shephards’ niece but because his mind was on something else. A young lady had walked past the mill today who had actually caught his eye. He had so conditioned himself not to look even a second time that when his head turned twice today, it gave him pause.
With further inspection, he realized he hadn’t seen her face clearly at all, but the color of her dress, a green print that was easy on the eyes, and the graceful way she moved, had stayed on his mind for quite some time.
It might be time, Jace reasoned. Would Eden actually say she was right if after all this time I sought out some female company? Almost the moment he mentally raised the question, he knew the answer was yes. It wasn’t going to matter when he met someone he thought was special enough for a second look; his sister was just difficult enough to say that she had been right.
The only question that remained for Jace now was, Did he really care what his sister thought, said, or did?
“I missed you,” Doyle told his niece at noon over dinner, his voice saying more. Maddie had gone home to eat with him, planning to take food to Cathy later.
“I missed you too,” Maddie said in return, acknowledging how wonderful it was to be home again. She wondered how she would finish the day on so little sleep, but her heart knew nothing but delight that she had been able to come so swiftly and find her uncle doing so well.
She had expected worse. She thought Doyle would be sickly looking and pale, but he was neither of these. His eyes were bright and his color good. The only discernable change was his soft-spokenness and eyes that looked as though they wanted to tear every time she smiled at him.
“Was the work too hard?” Doyle suddenly teased.
“I didn’t do any work,” Maddie teased back. “I spent the whole morning answering questions about my life. I wasn’t a help to Cathy at all.”
“I find that hard to believe. Tell me, did everyone who wanted answers also buy something?”
“Yes, they did,” Maddie said, suddenly realizing.
Doyle laughed over this, and Maddie was struck by the deep contentment she felt. Smiling at her uncle and going back to her meal, she decided that no matter what, she would not stay away this long again.
When Douglas Muldoon moved to Tucker Mills with his family, he went directly into a house that was already built. He’d watched the building of other homes in the village but had never been involved personally.
The donation of funds for their meetinghouse made all questions about such matters come alive. Having not purchased land yet, Douglas was nevertheless asking where one purchased boards or logs to be cut, who in town could build pews, and would the woodcarver expect them to supply their own logs?
Rather than take time on the matter, Douglas began to make a list of all his questions. He didn’t know when he would find answers, but it didn’t have to be today. Today he had a sermon to work on and no time to consider side issues.
Woody stepped outside the mill, around the corner from the doorway, and leaned against the wall. He rubbed at his aching chest and arms. Jace was working hard over the saw, and for a moment, Woody was glad for the reprieve.
He had laid things out for Jace before he arrived. He wasn’t going to be around forever, but not at any time did he want to worry the younger man and distract him to the point where he might be injured on the job. The mill and farming were both dangerous jobs. Jace needed to keep his head at all times. Woody had seen Jace’s face full of concern during those times when he’d let his guard down. He knew he was a man of compassion, and he admired him for that, but he also didn’t want it to interfere with the task at hand, the important task of learning to take over all that Woody would leave behind.
“Woody!” Jace suddenly called, and that man put his head around the door to see his nephew frowning at the saw. Jace waved him over.
Hoping his face looked as though he hadn’t a care in the world, Woody returned to the interior of the sawmill, hoping he would be around long enough to show Jace everything.
The end of the business day could not come fast enough for Maddie. The long hours on the train and the emotions of coming away from Boston so swiftly were all starting to wear on her. In addition, it seemed as though every time someone came in the door, they were there to see her.
She was extremely pleased to see old friends and even meet some new ones, but constantly bringing everyone up to date, all the while trying not to encourage any of the single men, was beginning to take its toll.
A glance at the clock told her she didn’t have long to wait. She told herself that a quiet evening was ahead, with a nice tea and snack and then her old bed. An unconscious sigh escaped her, and Cathy heard it.
“I can finish here,” the older woman said.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Go on, Maddie. I can see you’re nearly spent.”
Their eyes met, and Maddie could see that Cathy was doing well. With a small nod, she did as she was told and made for the rear door, the one that put her just 30 yards from the kitchen door of the house.
Cathy smiled in her wake. One of these days she would tell Maddie what it meant to have her here, and why just her presence gave energy to the older woman. One of these days, but not today.
Three
There was nothing Jace wanted more than a quiet visit with Cathy and Doyle, but on his way into town, he remembered that this was their niece’s first day home. He did not want to interrupt such a time, so he opted for the Commons Tavern instead, sat at a quiet table, and ordered a pint.
Franklin served him, and hoping to relax a bit, Jace took a long pull and sat back in his seat. It was a quiet evening—most weeknights were—but it was just lively enough to give Jace a distraction.
This had been one of those evenings when Woody was extremely tired. He had fallen asleep in the rocking chair right after evening tea, coming awake suddenly when there was a noise outside, and then taken himself to bed very early. Growing a little more accustomed to the labor, Jace wasn’t fatigued at all. Indeed, he tho
ught the hours alone in the house would be dismal, so he cleaned up and rode one of the horses into town with plans to see the Shephards.
Feeling himself relax, Jace took another drink and realized it was never very far from his mind that this hardworking, generous uncle of his was not long for this world. Jace had been tempted to hold himself back. He had tried to keep some emotional distance when he first arrived in Tucker Mills, but it hadn’t worked that way. Woody was too personable, too likeable. Even if it meant a more painful loss, Jace wanted to know this man. He wanted to learn all he could and know he had a friend, no matter how it ended.
“Another one, Jace?” Franklin asked from beyond the counter, and Jace, not normally a heavy drinker, realized he hadn’t been all that thirsty but instead in need of company.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“I didn’t see you, Jace,” Carlton, from the livery, called from the table with the checkerboard. “Come on over.”
Jace went, but it was for the company alone. He had not forgotten the way that Carlton had beaten him three games straight the last time they’d played together.
Jace lingered in the doorway of Shephard Store on Saturday afternoon, the last day of March, trying to find his bearings. At the moment Cathy was not in sight. However, a woman who could only be Maddie Shephard was behind the counter. And she was nothing like he expected. He’d gone from doubting her ability to help Doyle and Cathy to assuming she was a large, sturdy woman, easily able to step into Doyle’s shoes. Neither was the case.
Maddie did not sport muscles that could carry everything the store stocked. Indeed, from what he could see over the top of the counter, Jace would have called her delicate. Right now she was waiting on a woman who was deciding between two bolts of cloth, but every so often, Maddie would lean across the counter top a bit to speak to the little girl at the woman’s side, even reaching to touch the tip of the little girl’s nose with a small, graceful hand.