The Mill River Recluse (11 page)

“Patience, Patrick! I intend to show you,” the patriarch said, grinning. “And we can take Mary home afterward. It will save you the drive.”

“But Mary lives in Mill River,” Stephen said.

“Indeed,” Conor replied. “That’s exactly where we’re going.”

~~~

“A charming view, isn’t it?” Conor asked. Mary and the four McAllisters stood atop a hill overlooking Mill River. A good portion of the land had been cleared of trees and leveled, and a dirt access road connected the site with the main road through the town.

“Yes, Pop,” Stephen said, “but why are we up here?”

Mary said nothing, but she noticed that Conor looked as if he were about to burst.

“Patrick, Mary,” Conor said as he turned to face them, “I wanted to give you something special for your wedding. But what? What could I give to you, especially you, Mary, to welcome you into our family?” Conor’s green eyes twinkled, and Mary felt her cheeks begin to burn. “Then, it came to me. I’ve arranged for a house to be built for you, here, overlooking Mill River. A house in Mary’s hometown, so that she may stay close to her father, plated by the finest white marble cut by our Marbleworks. The location of her family and the legacy of ours. Construction is scheduled to start this week. With good weather, it should be ready for you to move into after your wedding in August.”

Conor’s announcement stupefied the others. It was Patrick who first recovered his voice.

“You mean, we’ll live here? In Mill River?” This time, there was no masking his frustration. “But that means I’ll have to drive into Rutland for work every day. And what about my new stable?”

“Pish, it’s only a few miles, hardly fifteen minutes away. You’ll get used to it. Besides, there were no locations any closer to Rutland that compared to this one. Think of it, Patrick—your own country estate! I even purchased several acres back that way,” Conor continued, motioning toward the stretch of land down the hill from the construction site. “There’s plenty of room for horses. I’ll have another stable built for you and Mary.”

“Oh, Mr. McAllister, this is a dream!” Mary said, as she fought back tears. “It’s perfect! I never expected, we never expected, oh, Patrick, isn’t it wonderful?” Her elation had been building from the moment Conor had announced his surprise, but her joy at his mention of a new stable was too much to contain.

Elise shook her head in disbelief. “You certainly outdid yourself this time, Conor.”

“I’ll say,” Stephen said. “It is a bit of a drive into Rutland, son, but I suppose I could supply you with transportation as a wedding gift from your mother and me.” He winked. “Besides, this is a gorgeous place for a house.”

Patrick crossed his arms and frowned. He wasn’t used to being overruled, but there was no avoiding it this time.

“I don’t know what to say, Grandpop. Thank you.”

“Yes, Mr. McAllister, thank you so much!” Mary said. She felt a surge of relief when she realized that she wouldn’t have to fight with Patrick to decide where they would live—his grandfather had decided for them.

“It’s ‘Grandpop’ to you too, Mary,” Conor said. “And you’re both very welcome. Now, my dear, we’d best be getting you home before your father starts to worry.” As he turned to walk back to the Lincoln, Mary linked her arm around his and squeezed it, smiling. Conor patted her hand and chuckled. Stephen and Elise followed them, but Patrick seemed to hesitate. He stood glowering for several minutes at an invisible target in the sky above Mill River before trudging back to the car after his family.

~~~

“I don’ know what to say, Mary.” Samuel Hayes stepped back to get a better look at his daughter in her wedding gown. “You look beautiful. I wish your mother were here to see you.”

“I’m sure she would be happy for us,” Mary replied. “You look good, too.” She smiled, prompting the stocky horse farmer to fidget with his bow tie.

“I don’ reckon I’ve worn a suit like this since I married your mother,” he said. “Feels sorta strange. An’ these shoes are a little tight.” He looked over at Mary, but she was staring into the mirror, smoothing the veil that drifted down over her shoulders. Her gown was silk crepe, with a sweetheart neckline, lace sleeves, and a matching lace train that extended at least three yards behind her. Her dark hair was pulled back into a low elegant twist and held in place by an arched tiara. The veil attached to the jeweled headpiece and flowed down her back.

“I think this might be a bit much, but Patrick insisted on it,” Mary said as she lightly touched one of the larger crystals on the tiara.

“Well, I like it,” Mr. Hayes said. “Besides, this is your wedding day. I don’ see any reason why you shouldn’ look like a queen.”

“I suppose.” She continued to stare at herself in the mirror, but her blue eyes were glazed, locked in place as her mind traveled. Organ music began to play in the sanctuary outside the door of the dressing room in which they stood, and every once in a while, the voices of people being escorted to their seats also filtered through. Mr. Hayes glanced nervously at the door, then back at his daughter.

“Fifteen minutes to go,” he said. “Mary, are you...do you think you will be all right during the ceremony?”

“I think so, Papa. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt really panicky. I thought I’d be anxious right now, but I’m not.” That wasn’t quite true. Deep down, she could still feel a simmering core of unease, but she was determined that nothing would ruin her wedding day.

Mr. Hayes shook his head and took his daughter’s hands. “I never would’ve imagined that you’d be able to walk into a roomful of people, much less that you’d be gettin’ married.” He stopped speaking for a moment and sniffed. “I was so worried that you’d never be right again after…well, I won’t bring up the past. What matters is the here and now. That Patrick has sure worked a miracle with you.”

“I know,” Mary said, her eyes clear and bright again. “Sometimes, I can’t quite believe it myself. I love him so much. He is...he’s everything to me.”

“Mary, I want you to know that, well, I know you know that I don’ have a lot of money. An’ you don’ know how much I wanted you to have a nice wedding.”

“But Papa, look at all of this,” Mary said, gesturing toward the door that led to the sanctuary. “In my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have imagined anything more than this.”

“I know, I know. But it’s just that, well, I wish
I
could’ve been the one to give you all of this, today.”

“Oh, Papa, you’ve always given me so much,” Mary said, embracing her father.

The organ music outside the door grew louder, marking the beginning of the processional. Mary stepped back and wiped her eyes. Mr. Hayes straightened his tie, tucked Mary’s arm around his own, and smiled. It was time.

As the trumpeter played a magnificent fanfare, the congregation rose in a great wave and turned expectantly toward the entrance to the sanctuary. The church was filled to capacity. Patrick stood with his brother and Father O’Brien at the altar, waiting.

The deep chords of the church organ joined the clear notes of the trumpet as Mary and her father began making their way down the aisle. Most of the people in the church had never met Mary, but her exquisite beauty caused even those who had already seen her to gasp as she glided past.

If Mary was anxious, she gave no indication of her feelings. She was smiling, her beautiful face relaxed and serene. Tears slowly trickled from her blue eyes. Patrick watched her, her hand tucked around her father’s arm as they came to a halt before him. When the music stopped, Father O’Brien’s voice rang through the church.

“I greet you, family and friends who have gathered here today to witness the marriage of Mary Elizabeth Hayes and Patrick Miles McAllister. Please, join me in prayer.” He bowed his head. “Father, we ask your blessing for Mary and Patrick, who today will be united in marriage before your altar….”

Mary kept her head bowed, but opened her eyes slightly. She looked down at her father’s feet. The stiff dress shoes were moving ever so slightly. His toes were wriggling inside them, she knew, and she had to smile.

Patrick stepped forward and took Mary’s hand as her father released it. Mr. Hayes smiled at his daughter and sat down in the front pew on the left side of the church. The only other occupants of the pew were an older man and woman who wore their Sunday best but who still appeared uncomfortably underdressed. They were Mr. and Mrs. Pearson, neighbors of two decades and the only guests invited by Mary and her father. In fact, they were the only people they could think to invite.

Mary looked up at Patrick, her face more radiant than the crown she wore. Patrick smiled down at her and squeezed her hand as they faced the young priest. Behind him, he felt two hundred pairs of eyes taking in the beauty of this stunning woman who would soon be his wife. He had waited and worked for this moment--their coronation. During the week ahead, they would visit Niagara Falls and New York City. He savored the thought of escorting his glorious bride on their honeymoon. As he felt the softness of her hand in his, his heartbeat quickened and a sudden urgency made itself known. Patrick looked down at Mary again. His green eyes were hungry, almost ravenous. Their marble mansion in Mill River was finished. They would spend their first night in it tonight. After waiting for so long, he would finally get from Mary what he wanted most.

Chapter 9

Having conquered the treadmill, shoveled her driveway, and treated herself to a hot bath, Claudia Simon drove her old station wagon through Mill River to the grocery store. She smiled with satisfaction at having eaten a healthy brunch to make sure that she would not be tempted by the Doritos in the snack aisle. She was in control of her appetite and proud of it.

She remained firmly in control in the produce section, although that was easy. She didn’t feel guilty about eating anything here--fruits and vegetables were her friends, and she piled them into her shopping cart. The dairy aisle was fine, too. Skim milk, lowfat cottage cheese, and yogurt--all acceptable. She picked up a package of boneless, skinless chicken in the meat section and a half-pound of salmon at the seafood counter.

Still in control, Claudia ignored the package of Italian sausage that whispered to her and completely bypassed the snack aisle and its crinkly, shiny bags of deep-fried bliss.
A good marinara would be nice
, she thought as she swung through the aisle of dried goods for some spaghetti and pasta sauce. Now the only things that she still needed were lowfat salad dressing and bread. The salad dressing was in the next aisle over. The bread, though, was in the far corner of the store...in the bakery section.

Claudia took a deep breath and steeled herself as she pushed her cart toward the bakery. She looked at her watch. It was about noon, which meant that the smells of the morning baking wouldn’t be so noticeable anymore. For this, Claudia was thankful.

She would buy a nice loaf of whole wheat bread, the kind that was rich in fiber. She imagined the scent of that whole wheat bread as she passed the bakery area, where behind a glass counter there were the birthday cakes, cookies, and rows of doughnuts.
Glazed, Bavarian creme, Boston creme, twist
, her eyes read before she could tear her gaze away, and Claudia felt a little
ping
inside her. Doughnuts were her greatest weakness, and her control was fading.

She walked faster, swung her cart around the end of the aisle, where the shelves of bread began, and stopped. Before her stood an enormous Entenmann’s display. Boxes of coffee cakes, pastries, and doughnuts were stacked neatly beneath a sign that read, “
2 for $5.00
.” She stared at a box of powdered sugar doughnuts and felt herself begin to salivate.
Stop it
, Claudia told herself,
you’re not hungry. You made sure of that before you left the house.
But a little voice in her head asked how long had it been since she had allowed herself a powdered sugar doughnut. A month? Two months?
Surely
, the voice begged,
couldn’t you make an exception today?

Well, Claudia thought as she reached for the box, she
had
exercised this morning and continued to be very careful about her diet. The little voice encouraged this line of thinking.
You deserve it
, it said.
And besides, a doughnut or two won’t cause you to regain ninety pounds.
That was true, Claudia told herself as she set the box in her cart. But it could be a dangerous beginning. She sighed and resolved to try to talk herself out of the purchase, all the while knowing that it wouldn’t work.

As she rounded the end of the aisle intent on quickly finding her bread and leaving the store, Claudia heard a male voice that was vaguely familiar and a child’s voice that she recognized immediately.

“Here you go, kiddo, be careful not to smash it.”

“I
won’t
, Dad. I’ll put it on top, by the eggs.”

Kyle Hansen was standing in the bread aisle beside a cart and his nine-year-old daughter, Rowen.

Claudia had met Kyle a few weeks before. A police officer, Kyle and his partner, Leroy Underwood, had visited her class as part of the “explore a career” project she had started
. No wonder his voice was familiar
, Claudia thought. Her knees had gone weak the moment he had entered her classroom, and, since then, she had replayed his voice speaking to her fourth graders hundreds of times in her mind.

“We should swing by the deli and get some stuff for sandwiches. And we still have to get a bag of cat food.”

“We can put it on the bottom, see Dad?” Rowen said, pointing down to the wire rack above the wheels of the cart. “That’s what it’s for, you know. Hey, can I get a doughnut?” Claudia felt herself cringe.

“No, I think Ruth gives you enough treats from the bakery--”

“Miss Simon! Hi, Miss Simon!” Rowen called, spotting Claudia at the end of the aisle. Kyle turned and smiled. Claudia froze. Now, after having succumbed to her sweet tooth, was not the time she wanted to be seen by anyone, much less by this good-looking man who had denied his own daughter a doughnut and would surely think her a pig if he saw the whole box of them in her cart. But it was too late--they were coming toward her. She grabbed a loaf of bread from the nearest shelf, placed it on top of the doughnut box, and forced herself to smile.