Spring Blossom (31 page)

Tim saw to the unloading of the luggage from
the hack and then stepped forward. “Let’s go into the house,” he
said as he put his arm around Denise’s shoulders. “Everyone here is
exhausted,” he told Hunter. “And I’m sure you both are as
well.”

It was true. Tim’s mother had come to stay
and help in any way she could, but the kindly woman could not
assuage the grief within the household. They had slept little.

“I’ll take your cases in once I’ve
introduced you to everyone,” Tim added as he and Denise led the way
inside.

Friends and neighbors, he said, had come to
express their sympathy and their concerns over the fate of three
young women who were now without parents. The girls had been
inundated with questions about their future and, while everyone was
well-meaning, Timothy told Hunter that the attention had only added
to the distress they girls already felt.

The two men stared silently at each other as
they stood inside Treemont’s entrance. The next few days would be a
test of everyone’s emotional endurance.

*

In fact, the four young women presented a
brave front to the world. Only when they were alone did they share
their heartaches and fears. Hunter and Tim stood quietly by, just
being there.

The funeral was an ordeal in which Maggie
and Denise stood stiffly, holding the hands of their younger
sisters.

They returned to the house in the late
afternoon. Early in the evening Mrs. Fletcher decided that the
interval of visiting with friends and neighbors had gone on long
enough. She encouraged Florence and Jennifer to go to bed and
Maggie insisted on seeing them to their room.

“I want to sleep in Florence’s bed,”
Jennifer whined tiredly as she pulled a white, cotton nightgown
over her head.

“All right, Jen,” Maggie agreed quietly as
she smoothed the thick braids back over Jennifer’s slim shoulders.
“But you must sleep,” she added firmly.

The two younger girls shared a room that was
cluttered with collections of their favorite things…dolls that had
been given up by their maturing sisters and an abundance of
riff-raff that could only be termed as junk, from rocks to ribbons,
that Jennifer was fond of saving. Twin beds dominated the room, and
a small table stood between the two.

Maggie sat on a chair in a corner of the
room while Jennifer stood before her.

“What will we do, Maggie?” Jennifer asked
worriedly. “I don’t think Florence and I can look after
Treemont.”

Maggie smile sadly at the thought and
reached out to stroke her sister’s slim arms. “Don’t you worry
about Treemont,” he said firmly. “Hunter told me not to worry and
you mustn’t, either.”

Jennifer’s brows crinkled with another
worried thought. “But Denise will move to town, and…”

“You are not to worry, Jen,” Maggie said
again. She noticed that Florence had changed into her nightclothes
and was sitting on the side of her bed, listening intently. “Hunter
and I will look after you both. You must not worry about being
alone.”

“But you live far away,” Jennifer pointed
out, growing teary-eyed again. Maggie pulled the girl up against
her. “We’ll be together, Jen,” she whispered. “All of us.”

A large shadow fell across them then, and
Maggie looked up to see Hunter staring down at them. “All of us,
monkey,” he said. When Jennifer raised her head from Maggie’s
shoulder, he shooed her toward the bed. “You must get some sleep
now. Both of you,” he said, smiling at Florence, who had scrambled
under the covers on her bed. The girl looked frail and thin, and
the dark circles beneath her eyes worried him.

“
I’m going to sleep with
Florence,” Jennifer told him.

Hunter nodded and watched her lie down
beside her sister. He pulled the blankets over them both and sat on
the edge of the bed, smiling down gently as they stared at him.
“Your sister and I have already discussed this,” he said quietly.
“We love you both, and we want you to live with us. Now, is that
all right with you?” He looked from one to the other, and they both
nodded, sleepy-eyed. “Good. And if you are worried about something,
you’ll tell us?” He smiled at their whispers of agreement then
reached out and touched their hands. “Will you sleep now?” he
asked, and they nodded once again. “Good.” He bent to kiss them
each lightly on the forehead, then straightened and waited for
Maggie to do likewise.

Maggie whispered good night and something
else he could not hear. Then she walked toward the door and out
into the hall before Hunter had even lowered the wick of the
lamp.

He closed the door and stepped up behind
her; Maggie was leaning heavily against the wall, her head lowered.
Without a word, Hunter turned her into his arms and held her while
she wept. She cried silently, her heart breaking for the two your
girls who seemed so alone and bewildered. And she cried for her own
loss and for the father she would never see again.

“They’re so afraid,” she whispered.

“We’ll find a way to reassure them,” he said
quietly. “Come to our room now,” he added. “I know it’s early, but
I think you could use some sleep.”

She shook her head and pulled away from him,
trying to regain her composure, but it was easier to meld against
him and let him be her strength. “We have a houseful of people,”
she said at last.

“I’ll make your excuses. You need some rest
and everyone will understand that.”

“Denise is alone down there.”

“Denise is with Tim. I saw him take her
outside for some air. You have to worry about yourself now,
Maggie,” he said firmly. “Your sisters will need you, and you’ll be
of little help to them if you’re exhausted.”

Maggie hadn’t allowed herself the luxury of
thinking about being tired; there were simply too many other things
to think about and too much to do. She had functioned under nervous
tension for days now, and she knew that was why she was so weepy.
Hunter must be truly sick of seeing her cry.

Nodding in agreement to his suggestion,
Maggie lowered her eyes as she took a first mechanical step toward
the room that had been hers and that she would now share with her
husband.

Seeing the weary droop to her shoulders,
Hunter hesitated not one moment. He swept her up in his arms and
carried her down the dark corridor.

“I can walk,” she murmured, lowering her
head and pressing her lips against his neck.

“Tonight I’m not so certain about that,” he
said quietly as he entered a room that looked much like the bedroom
of a very young girl. The bed was too short for him, and he scowled
as he eyed the thing.

He laid her gently on the bed and removed
her black shoes. Then, raising the skirt of the simple black dress,
he reached under its hem and drew off one stocking at a time.

“I can get undressed,” she protested,
although weakly.

Hunter reached for the buttons of her dress.
“I’ve seen you undress,” he said lightly. “Tonight, allow me.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

His hands grew still just below her breasts.
“I thought you understood that, little one,” he said simply. “I
love you.”

“I’ve given you a lot of trouble.”

He continued with his task then, his gaze
moving away from hers to watch his progress. “I happen to think
you’re worth it.”

“I haven’t been very…loving,” she admitted
in a small voice, propping herself up on both elbows. “I mean…other
than when…I don’t mean when we’re…together.”

Hunter frowned, trying to follow her thought
process, and sat on the bed beside her hip. “Together?” he
prompted.

She allowed her head to drop back onto the
pillow and her eyes moved away to stare at the curtained windows.
“I mean…I think I’m loving when we’re together. You know.”

“When we’re making love, Maggie?” He gently
took the hand that rested at her waist. “You are loving, my pet.
What’s this about?” he prodded, seeing her struggle with whatever
was on her weary mind.

“All that has happened these past few days…”
she whispered, rolling away from him. “I can remember when I was
very small and my mother and father would laugh and touch each
other. My father’s eyes would always go to her whenever she entered
a room. I think they must have been very much in love. And…I
remember the way they were together. I haven’t been able to offer
that to you.”

Her voice trailed off then and Hunter placed
one hand on the mattress in front of her, leaning forward. Her eyes
had closed. Sleep had stealthily enveloped her and eased her
thoughts, at least for the moment.

“You’ve given me more than you know,” he
whispered, having gained more knowledge from those words uttered in
half-sleep than she would ever suspect. There had been times,
occasionally, when his courage had almost failed him and he had
feared he was walking a fool’s path with her. It would have been so
easy for her to hurt him that, once or twice he had almost felt the
urge to withdraw in order to protect himself. But then he would
look at her or smell the subtle distinctive fragrance of her or
hear her laugh, and he would again realize that he would never
leave her simply because she could not offer what he needed most.
He would be with her until the end of his days regardless of
whether or not she ever came to love him as deeply as he loved
her.

But there had also been occasions when he
had been greatly encouraged. And, as he eased her out of her
clothing leaving only her lacy drawers, he understood that she had
gone beyond merely wanting him, beyond needing a husband and
companion, beyond feeling protected by him. Maggie had offered a
first tantalizing hope that she was well beyond merely caring for
him.

*

She had not so much as stirred during the
time it took to get her settled, so deep was her sleep. Now Hunter
drew the crisp white sheet and warm quilt up over her as he bent
and kissed her softly parted lips. Their path had not yet been
cleared of all the vines and thorns that could entrap them, but
somehow Hunter knew they would survive together and emerge beyond
it all to find some peaceful meadow.

CHAPTER 23

Timothy had seen the last of the guests
depart, including his own family. He had sent Denise up to her bed
even though nighttime had barely fallen and he was loath to have
her leave his side. He could never have enough time with her, it
seemed, but tonight she could barely converse and he knew he must
let her go.

Hunter appreciated the quietness of the
house when he returned to the main floor, although he felt badly
about not fulfilling his duties as host.

“I had planned to explain Maggie’s absence,”
he said, walking across the room and sitting before the fire,
opposite the younger man.

“I made you apologies, and everyone
understood,” Tim returned, getting to his feet. “I don’t know about
you, but I could use something stronger than the coffee we’ve been
drowning ourselves in all day.” He waited until Hunter nodded his
agreement before turning toward the small table in the corner of
the room that held several crystal decanters.

Hunter sat back, crossing his long legs and
resting one arm along the back of the settee. He watched Tim pour
two generous amounts of Alastair’s find brandy into snifters. As
Hunter looked up from rubbing his tired eyes, he noticed the solemn
Anna clearing the remains of food and platters in the dining
room.

“Thank you,” he said as Tim extended a glass
to him. Hunter silently toasted the man before sipping. “I had
hoped to never have need of a drink,” he said smiling. “But I need
this one.”

The young doctor sank wearily into a chair.
“Agreed.”

The two men stared into the blazing fire
that warmed the room against the chill of the Fall evening and
simply enjoyed the silence after the long days of people coming and
going and the strain of seeing their loved ones suffer.

‘Your family returned to town?” Hunter
asked, for want of another opening to the conversation.

“Mother felt the girls would be in need of
some privacy for a few days, and she’s done all she can here for
now.”

“You’ll stay?” Hunter asked. He suspected
Tim would not leave Denise.

“I’ll be comfortable enough in the guest
room.”

“Had Alastair been ill, Tim?” Hunter asked
after a time, looking thoughtfully into the dancing flames of the
fire. “I can hardly believe that a man his age just didn’t wake up
one morning.”

“I was convinced he was ill,” Tim returned,
“but when I suggested as much he brushed off my concerns. There’s
been some talk that Treemont isn’t doing well,” he added, leaning
forward to rest his elbows on his knees and study the glass in his
hands. “I suppose that’s fairly obvious. Some of the fields have
been left untended, and there isn’t much help around the place
anymore. This farm once employed a number of full-time hands. Now I
think only Anna and two stable boys remain to do the bulk of the
work. But Alastair would never confide in me.” He raised his head
and smiled. “Not that we didn’t get along, mind you. I don’t
believe Alastair has confided in anyone since his wife's death. He
took his worries to his grave, and I’m concerned about what you
will find here.” Tim was astute enough to realize that Hunter would
assume responsibility for Treemont, and he would bow to his greater
experience. “I’ll do whatever I can to help; whatever you ask. I
only hope I’m wrong about the financial state of this grand old
place.”

Hunter’s worried gaze returned to the fire.
He frowned as he mulled over the information Tim had provided. “You
have a great many patients who need your attention,” he said
quietly. “I’ll take a look at Alastair’s books and in a few days,
we’ll talk again.”

“If Treemont is threatened…" Tim hesitated,
seeming uncertain about how to voice his concern…"Florence and
Jennifer…”