Dragon Warrior (Midnight Bay) (9 page)

No, the only witness to her tears was an old dead tree.

With the growl of a wounded animal backed into a corner, Maddy took another mighty swing at the well-battered trunk, hitting it so forcefully this time that the stick flew from her hands, and she fell to the ground—her cry of surprise turning to heart-wrenching sobs as she lay there weeping in utter defeat.

Feeling as if he’d taken the blow to his chest, William dropped to his knees. Not since burying his family had he felt such despair, as he knew from personal experience that Maddy wasn’t angry at the world near as much as she was angry at herself.

It was obvious to him from what she’d said at the table tonight, that she felt like a dowdy old spinster going through the motions while her ex-husband had retained his youthful vitality. She may have tried to defend her life to Trace, but in actuality, the people she cared for at the nursing home were emotionally younger than she was.

And she knew it, and it hurt.

William understood far too well the hopelessness of feeling that sort of isolation. Hadn’t he himself repeatedly lashed out when he’d been a dragon, only instead of an old tree that couldn’t fight back, he’d gone after a mangy old bear, or any other entity—animal or demon—he could find, in an attempt to ease the gnawing in his gut?

William silently watched Maddy cry herself out for several minutes, the pain squeezing his own chest nearly unbearable, until she finally straightened to a sitting position and wiped her eyes and face with the palms of her hands.

And that’s when he decided that if he accomplished only one thing with this second chance at life he’d been given, he would see that Maddy never had to take out her frustrations on a tree again. If she had the urge to lash out at something, he would stand as her target; if she required a shoulder to lean on, he would give her his; and if she needed to whisper her fears in the wee dark hours of the night, he would be the one to hear her. Kneeling there in the bushes, William vowed on the souls of his dead mother and sister that whenever Maddy felt old and saggy and heavy of heart, he would do everything in his power to show her how young and alive and vital she was.

She finally stood up, finished drying her face on the hem of her blouse, and then ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it. With a deep breath that ended with a lingering sob, she squared her shoulders and started walking toward home.

William quietly got to his feet and silently ran back through the woods. He untied the mare and led her trotting several hundred paces back toward the house before he turned around and began casually strolling toward Maddy.

She stopped when she rounded a corner and spotted him, her eyes widening at the sight of the large horse before narrowing on him. “I told you to be gone when I got back,” she said, her voice raspy from crying.

He kept walking until he reached her and pulled the mare up beside him to pat its cheek. “I remembered that ye had a sore knee, and Rose here suggested that we give ye a ride home before we head back to An Tèarmann.”

“
Rose
suggested you give me a ride?” she asked, the barest hint of a sad smile twitching one corner of her mouth.

“Aye, she’s quite thoughtful that way, despite being Scots,” William said, running his hand over the mare’s large nose. He suddenly stilled when he noticed Maddy staring at his arm. “Are ye upset that I let Janice use her money card to order my watch?” he asked, pulling his cuff back even more as he held his wrist out to show her the watch. “The others assured me it would be okay.”

“Huh?” It took her a moment, but she finally lifted her gaze from his arm to his face. “Oh, no, it’s okay,” she said, her eyes straying to his wrist again.

“Then come.” He stepped to the mare’s side. “I’ll help ye up.”

“She’s not wearing a saddle. I can walk. It’s not that far.”

“A saddle’s more trouble than it’s worth; don’t worry, Rose is as gentle as a spring lamb. And the less ye use that knee, the quicker it will heal. Come on,” he urged, pulling her in front of him so she was facing the horse.

She clutched his hands when he set them on her waist. “The both of us will be too heavy for her.”

He chuckled. “Six of us wouldn’t be too heavy for her, but I intend to walk.” She tried to step away, but he didn’t let her go. “You’re not afraid of horses, are ye, Maddy?”

That did the trick. She grabbed Rose’s mane, then raised her leg for a boost. “I’m not afraid of a silly old horse, even one that’s bigger than the car I’m driving.”

William lifted her by the waist then waited to make sure she was settled before stepping away. “Ready?” he asked, trying not to laugh when he saw her eyes had gone wide at being tossed up like a sack of feathers.

He started walking down the path and smiled to himself, remembering the night Eve and Maddy had gotten falling-down drunk to bolster their nerves as they walked along a dark road after Maddy’s truck had ended up in the ditch. Since he’d been a dragon at the time—which they decided had to be a hairless moose—and was inadvertently the cause of their driving into the ditch, he’d gotten Kenzie to fetch them home. When Kenzie had found them and in turn carried each woman to his truck, Maddy had been drunkenly adamant that she was going to lose a few pounds before her own knight in shining armor finally showed up to sweep her off her feet.

The next day, William had asked his dear friend Mabel what a knight was, and that’s when she’d told him the tale of King Arthur. And with twinkling eyes filled with speculation more than amusement, she’d also explained that even though Maddy might have been jesting, she was probably secretly hoping that a big, strong, handsome hero would come riding into town and rescue her and love her forever.

“It’s true that Rose
is
the one who suggested we come give you a ride,” William said into the peaceful silence. “But where she was being thoughtful, I admit I have a more selfish motive, as I have a favor to ask.”

He heard Maddy sigh. “Sure, why not, seeing how you’ve probably figured out that I’m a pushover when it comes to people asking me for favors.”

William kept facing forward so she wouldn’t see his smile. “Ye can say no if ye want; I won’t be offended. But if ye do say no, then maybe could you give me some advice instead?”

“What’s the favor?”

“I’ve purchased a truck, but I’m not allowed to drive it on the roads alone with only a permit. I was wondering if you’d consider riding with me while I practice for taking the test to get my license.”

“You don’t drive?”

He frowned at the path ahead, wondering how to answer without revealing the fact that he’d been in this century only a few months and a
man
only a few weeks. And he
could
drive, just not very well. “I’m getting used to all the rules about things like blinkers and horns and road signs and such, and I’m still trying to figure out what all the buttons scattered throughout my truck do.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Did you know there’s even a button to turn on a wire in the seat that warms a person’s bum?”

That got him a full-blown smile. “You’re going to find yourself using that button a lot come January. So that’s the favor? You need someone to drive with you?” Her smile vanished and her eyes narrowed. “Why doesn’t Kenzie or Eve take you driving? Or Mabel? The only requirement is that they have a valid driver’s license, and Mabel still has hers.”

William returned to watching the path in front of him. “They have gone with me, but I’m finding it difficult learning all your blasted rules, and I really don’t wish to take up that much of their time.”

“And if I say no, then what’s the advice you want?”

“I wondered what you’d think of my asking Elbridge or Hiram or Samuel.”

“Omigod, not Hiram,” she said with an outright laugh. “He can’t remember where his room is most of the time! The two of you would end up in Canada.”

William felt her laughter easing the knot in his gut. “And Elbridge?”

“Elbridge would probably love to help you, and so would Samuel. Charlotte and Lois, too. They so need to feel needed.” Maddy sighed again. “Um . . . it was really thoughtful of you to ask their advice about building your home. Your visits mean a lot to them.”

He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I wasn’t being thoughtful; I need their advice far more than they need my visits.”

She gave him the strangest look—as if she didn’t quite believe him—but then her gaze strayed to his hands as he absently wove the reins through his fingers, and her breath sort of hitched, as if she’d momentarily forgotten to breathe.

“So by suggesting that I ask Elbridge, are ye saying
you
don’t wish to ride with me?”

“Huh? Oh, no . . . I could go with you once in a while.” She patted Rose’s neck, her eyes locked directly on his. “If you can get Kenzie or Eve to bring your truck to the nursing home and leave it, Elbridge or one of the others can go out with you in the morning, and I’ll go with you on some of my lunch breaks. No,” she said, suddenly shaking her head. “They wouldn’t like you leaving your truck at the home overnight if you’re not a resident, for liability reasons.” She shrugged. “I’ll have to think about how we can make this work.”

“I have an idea,” he said, turning to walk down the path again. “Why don’t you drive my truck to work every morning, and then drive it home at night?”

“Because that would mean I’d have to go to Eve’s house to get it every day.”

“Or ye could give Eve her car back and drive my truck all the time.”

“No!” she yelped so suddenly, William stopped and turned to her. “I can’t let people see me driving your truck. Everyone would get the wrong impression.”

“And just what would that impression be?”

“That we’re a couple.”

He started walking again. “Forgive me; I was under the impression ye didn’t care what people thought.”

“I don’t,” she snapped.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Okay, then. Let’s just say I don’t want to feel indebted to you.”

He stopped walking and turned to her again. “How does your helping me learn to drive make you indebted to me? I would be the one beholden to
you
.”

“If your truck’s so fancy it has heated seats, it cost more than I make in two years. I don’t want that kind of responsibility. What if I scratched it, or worse, what if I drove it into a ditch when some big hairless moose flew out in front of me?”

William started walking again to hide his smile. “It’s only a truck, lass. Scratches won’t make it any less useful, and its feelings won’t get hurt if ye drive it into a ditch. And the good part is you won’t get hurt, either; it’s a large, safe truck, unlike that old one of yours that’s parked behind Kenzie’s barn.”

He heard her sigh again. “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

Deciding she’d had enough pushing for one night, William relented. “Never mind, lass,” he said. “I will figure another way.”

He led her back to her house in silence, reminding himself that handling prickly little hedgehogs required patience, until the wee beasties were comfortable enough with a person to relax their quills. William led Rose out of the woods into the dooryard, and saw Sarah sitting on the steps of the porch, her chin in her hands, looking quite glum.

That is until she spotted them—or more specifically Rose.

“Mom! You’re riding a
horse
!” the girl cried, running down the stairs.

But she immediately scampered back onto the porch when they drew close, when she realized Rose was so large she could run under the mare’s belly by only ducking her head.

William reached across the stairs, picked Sarah up, and settled her onto Rose’s back in front of her mother. “And now
you’re
riding a horse, too,” he said with a chuckle at her surprised look. He started leading them around the yard. “And when ye go to summer rec tomorrow, you’ll have something to tell all your friends.”

“I’m going to be sick tomorrow.”

“Ye know, you remind me of my little sister, Gabby; she used to get bouts of illness quite often, too, whenever our father would tell her to go outside and play.”

“She did? Would she throw up and everything?”

“Quite often, actually. Papa would push her out the door, but she’d cling to his leg and throw up on his boots. So he would pick her up and carry her to our mother.”

“I bet Gabby got to stay home when she was sick,” Sarah said, turning to give Maddy a defiant glare.

“Nay, Mama would clean her up and take her outside for a walk. This went on almost the entire summer Gabby was ten, until one day, my sister overheard our father say that the village healer would have to cut off all her hair to cure her.”

“He wanted to cut off all her hair?” Sarah asked, grabbing her own hair as she leaned back into Maddy. “D-did your mother let him?”

“She didn’t have to, because Gabby finally told Mama
why
she kept getting sick.”

“Why?” Sarah whispered, holding on to Rose’s mane to lean toward William. “What was making her sick?”

He turned at the end of the driveway and started back toward the house. “Well now, it turned out the village children were teasing Gabby so badly that just the
thought
of playing with them made her sick.”

“It did?” Sarah tapped William on the shoulder to make him look at her. “Wh-what were they teasing her about?” she whispered.

“Anything they could think of. And when they couldn’t think of anything, they just made things up.”

“But why? Didn’t they like your sister? Was she mean and snotty to them?”

“Sarah,” Maddy said, pulling the girl back against her. “Let Mr. Killkenny finish his story, and please don’t insult his sister.”

William started walking again. “I don’t believe Gabby was at all mean and . . . snotty. She was quite shy around people, actually, as she preferred the company of animals. At least she was shy until she turned thirteen.”

“What happened at thirteen? Did she discover boys were good for something other than throwing rocks at?”

It was Maddy who’d asked that question, and William realized the woman would have her hands full soon enough, as Sarah grew up in her spitting image.