Moonlight on the Millpond (39 page)

“Well, now,” Jace said when he came from the downstairs, having washed in the kitchen. He found his wife in a beautiful dress, even prettier than the one she was married in.

“Is it all right?”

“It's beautiful. You'll put us all to shame.”

“I doubt that,” Maddie said, knowing that Jace would wear the new set of clothes he'd purchased in Boston.

The look he gave her told her he believed that with all his heart. The next look he gave her was enough to make her flush from head to foot. Jace watched her intently, and Maddie knew it was time to make an exit.

“I'll wait for you downstairs.”

Jace nodded, watching her exit. He would have to be careful not to overwhelm her, but if she knew how much he was looking forward to dancing with her tonight, she might not let him near her.

The space was a bit tight on the wagon seat as Jace, Maddie, and Clara headed into town on Saturday night, but it was cold enough that no one would have suggested anything else.

For two days now, it had felt as though snow could arrive at any minute, and tonight was no exception. Maddie loved the snow and Clara hated it, so the banter on the way to the party mostly came from one woman trying to persuade the other that she was right.

A few times Jace laughed out loud, which eventually dragged him into the discussion. He tried not to comment, but Clara would have none of it.

“Tell the truth,” she dared him. “You hate it on those days down at the mill.”

“Not the snow,” he argued. “Just the cold.”

“Well!” She was disgusted. “You don't get one without the other.”

“Not that kind of cold,” Jace corrected her. “The chilled-to-the-bone cold that hits in January—that I
don't
love.”

Maddie sat in the middle of this, hearing what she and Clara must have sounded like. It never occurred to her before, but Jace and Clara were good friends. Probably much the way Clara and Woody had been.

“Well, it's time to go to the party,” Clara said, a note of finality in her voice. They had stopped before the Shephard house. “And I for one still think you're wrong.”

“Now you sound like Eden,” Jace accused, even as he helped both women from the wagon.

On the ground now, Clara rounded on him, waving her basket in his face.

“If I could return this wedding gift, Jace Randall!”

But Jace only laughed and ushered them inside. It was a delightful start to a fun-filled evening.

Eighteen

Maddie woke up to an empty bed. She could tell it was not early; they'd been out rather late. The house was quiet, and for a long while she didn't want to move. Her mind was too full of her husband.

Jace Randall had been wonderful at the party. Without a hint that any part of their marriage was amiss, he held her hand, put his arm around her often, and danced with her like a man in love.

Maddie's eyes closed, but not in sleep. Jace
was
a man in love; she had known that for some time. She loved him too, and right now she was tired of keeping him at arm's length. She thought she might curl up against him if he were here right now, but he wasn't.

Suddenly glad it was Sunday and they had the house to themselves, Maddie got up and took extra pains with her appearance. Today was the day. She was going to let her husband know he was forgiven and that she loved him. Making vows to herself as she tucked in a final piece of hair, Maddie went downstairs with a mission.

She ate her breakfast, finished a pot of tea, and put the kitchen in order, and still Maddie had not seen anything of Jace. She had called out to the barn, but all was quiet outside as well. She sat at the table in the kitchen and wondered how her plans could have gone so far awry.

She thought about writing a letter to Paige before remembering that she was still in Europe. She spent some time thinking about how different life would have been had she gone with the Nunleys to Europe and then being very glad that she had not. She was still in the midst of all these speculations when Jace walked in.

“Good morning,” he said, heading over to warm the front of himself by the fire.

“Good morning. Are you frozen?”

“A little. Clara's stovepipe fell apart.”

“That must have made a huge mess.”

“It did, but I was more concerned that she had heat.”

“Does she need to come here? Should I go get her?”

“No. She had almost everything cleaned up by the time I left.”

Jace turned then, the fire to his back, and glanced down at his clothes.

“I guess I'd better get changed. You won't want this all over the house.”

Maddie was about to tell him it was all right, but he'd slipped into the small room behind the buttery to get rid of his dirty clothes. She didn't want to be caught sitting at the table looking as lost as she felt. Suddenly feeling misplaced in her own house, Maddie made for the stairs, hoping she could find some of her needlework amid the trunks she'd packed in Boston.

Not for the first time, Jace thought he was being watched. He wasn't actually working but had come out to putter with a drain that was sitting wrong and might break when a hard frost hit and all water turned to ice. He glanced up, looking first toward the barn and then to the windows of the house before deciding he was being imaginative.

The drain didn't take anywhere near as long as he expected, and that was too bad. Jace wanted to stay free of the house for a while. Maddie was not herself today. She had been acting strangely since he'd come back from Clara's. Every attempt during dinner to ask how she was was met with an uncertain face and an unconvincing answer.

Jace thought if this went on much longer, he would lose his temper. That was when he'd known it was time to head outside. But it was only getting colder, and try as he might, Jace didn't want to spend his Sunday afternoon in the barn. Seeing no help for it, he gave up and went inside, seeing right away he shouldn't have worried. Maddie was nowhere to be seen.

The whole day had passed. Maddie couldn't believe how badly her plans had failed. She had spent almost the entire day tucked up in Jace's old bedroom where she'd set up a large tapestry frame, trying to enjoy the scene she'd started before Doyle's heart gave him trouble. Just that morning she had been so brave, ready to say whatever needed to be said, and now after a wasted day of watching her husband out the window, they were sitting down to tea.

Across from her, Jace watched the emotions chase across Maddie's face. She had been acting oddly all day, but no amount of questioning had worked. She said nothing was wrong, but he didn't believe it.

They'd been married almost two weeks. Jace wondered how long he was going to have to pay for the mistake he'd made in Boston. He didn't want to start an argument, but he wanted an answer.

“How long are you going to be mad at me for mentioning a baby?” he asked when the meal was coming to an end.

Maddie looked at him, her face giving nothing away.

“I won't say it again,” Jace promised. “I won't even say it when your waist expands and your pains begin. I promise you, Maddie.”

His tone made Maddie laugh a little, but Jace only watched her.

“I'm not upset about that anymore.”

“But you are upset,” Jace stated.

“I don't know how to explain it,” Maddie said, looking helpless, remembering things she had wanted to say for days. “What woman wants to miss all I've missed?”

“It won't be the same,” Jace responded, his tone compassionate. “But I can tell you anything you want to know. I can give as much detail as you want. And I can even give you something to remember.”

Maddie frowned in confusion over this last statement until she read the warmth in Jace's eyes. She would have left the table, all bravado deserting her, but he caught her hand.

“What are you afraid of, Maddie?”

“That!”

“What exactly? That you'll be hurt? That you won't know what to do?”