The Lady Who Lived Again (28 page)

Pastor Hogle pointed to the horse. “She healed that animal!”

“I saw her!” Gertrude yelled. “I saw her sneaking out of the stables last night. Lucinda and Dolly saw her, too!”

“We did. We saw her!” Lucinda cried.

The pastor’s chest swelled as each girl substantiated his claim. “You said yourself, Doctor, the horse would have to be put down. What have you to say now?”

Jace shook his head at the man’s ranting. “That this latest attack against my fiancée is perfectly ridiculous.”

Pastor Hogle turned to the crowd, addressing his audience, as if from his pulpit. Fire blazed in his tone. “We all know what she did to my niece.” He gestured toward Dolly, who lowered her eyes. “She laid hands on the girl, and we all saw the result.”

Maddie shook her head. “That was an accident!”

Pastor Hogle spun to face her. “Another accident caused by you!”

Maddie gaped as the crowd inched closer.

“This is nonsense!” Jace stepped toward the pastor, fists clenched. “And it’s slander. She didn’t go near that horse.”

“Oh, yes she did!” Gertrude cried. “Just look at these shoes!” Gertrude held up the pair of soiled shoes she must have confiscated from Maddie’s room. “They’ve been in the stable for sure.”

Maddie felt faint, too faint to run.

“You took her shoes?” Jace stared incredulously. “Good God, this has gone far enough.” He turned back to Maddie. “Let’s go.”

“Reveal yourself and admit your tricks,” Pastor Hogle shouted at Maddie. “Admit the wicked things you’ve done.”

Fear trapped in Maddie’s chest. She couldn’t move. Her eyes darted across the row of shocked and expectant faces.

“Maddie, let’s go.” Jace wrapped his arm around her, as if that might help. But his protection was fruitless. She had no defense.

She shook her head, consumed by her rioting panic. “I—”

“Miss Sutter!”

Everyone turned toward the approaching rider in the drive. Dust and stones scattered as the rider skidded to a halt. “Miss Sutter!”

Maddie craned her neck over their heads toward the familiar voice in the distance. Gil jumped from his mount, then pushed his way through the crowd.

The tense silence stretched to eternity. Maddie’s pounding heart now thundered with dread.

“Step aside.” Red-faced and breathless, Gil shoved past Pastor Hogle. Gil’s grim expression turned her blood to ice.

She felt Jace’s grip on her arm, steadying her trembling knees. She clutched his arm for support. “What is it, Gil?” she croaked. “What’s happened?”

Gil took a deep breath, compassion suffusing his face. “Come quickly, Miss Sutter,” he said. “It’s your grandfather.”

Maddie ran through the house to her grandfather’s room, and Jace followed on her heels. Mr. Sutter lay in the large bed, his vacant eyes fixed toward the ceiling. She gripped her grandfather’s hand as Jace swiftly examined him. Jace peered into his eyes but knew what he’d see. “He’s unresponsive, Maddie.”

She swallowed hard. “What does that mean?”

“He’s dying.”

Her mouth quivered open, but she formed no reply. Shaking her head, she turned back toward the bed. She sank, bowing her head against the man’s chest. Her slender shoulders racked with quiet sobs.

“We’ll keep him comfortable, but there’s nothing more we can do.” Jace straightened the man’s bloated legs, then placed a pillow beneath his knees.

“I never should have left you, Grandfather,” she uttered. “Forgive me.”

Jace touched her back, but she shrugged him away.

“Leave us alone!” She shook her head. “Just leave us alone.” She pressed her grandfather’s fragile hand to her cheek. Murmuring softly, she brushed back the hair from his face.

Jace watched, deflating in powerlessness. Of all the emotions he experienced as a physician, this sense of impotence was the worst. Unlike his father, Jace could accept the disheartening and frustrating limitations of medicine. But it never got easier.

He turned his efforts to keeping the patient—Adam Sutter—comfortable as he passed from this world. This good man, whom Jace had grown to like and admire, would be the first person he’d lost in Misty Lake.

He would leave the room for Maddie’s sake, but he would not leave them alone. Adam would die soon, and he didn’t need Jace. Maddie would. She would need him then to help her through the grief of her loss. And he would be here for her when she did.

* * * *

The hours passed slowly as the distance between Grandfather’s labored breaths grew longer. Each sound he made became weaker. Maddie knew, as she always had, that she could not help him. Why had she been given this ability to heal if she couldn’t help the one person in her life that she loved the most?

Memories of her grandfather’s life filled the silence, floating like shadows before her blurry eyes. The savvy businessman, the strong man who’d carried his granddaughter atop his proud shoulders, the handsome charmer who’d made women swoon.

She glanced to the photograph of her grandmother and parents on the mantel. Like her, Grandfather had lost much. And yet, even during the years of his declining health, he had never complained.

Jace sat in the corner of the room behind her. She’d insisted earlier that he leave, but he hadn’t gone far. Sometime during the fog of her grief, he’d returned to the room, and she hadn’t the energy to order him out. She told herself that Grandfather might need him, though she knew deep in her heart, this wasn’t true. She might need him.

Grandfather made small sounds, not sounds of pain, but little sounds that told her he sensed her presence. From someplace deep inside his withered body, he knew she was there. She clasped his hand between hers. “I’ll be fine, Grandfather,” she whispered into his ear. His fingers twitched, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’ll be fine.”

A long breath of air whooshed from his chest, and then he went still. Maddie gulped hard as she shot to her feet.

Jace rushed to check Grandfather’s pulse. He pressed his stethoscope to Grandfather’s chest, then drew back, his eyes brimming with sorrow. “He’s gone.”

She sank to the chair. Covering her face, she sobbed into her hands. She slumped forward and rocked on her knees, crying for all she was worth. She cried for Grandfather, the man she loved so much. The man who had raised her after the death of her parents, the man who had done his best for her. And she cried for herself. Because despite all her unanswered prayers and fruitless hopes, Grandfather was gone.

And come tomorrow, she’d be alone.

* * * *

She felt as though she were living in a dream when Jace finally led her to her room. She sat in the chair by the window as he spoke quietly to Rhetta out in the hall. A few minutes later, he returned to her side. He handed her a small glass of brandy. Without a word, she drank it down, welcoming the bitter taste and soothing haze that flowed through her.

She sat numbly in the window seat, staring out as the day turned to dusk. They didn’t speak. There was nothing to say.

Jace urged her into bed. He pulled up the quilt to cover her, and she settled onto her side. Facing the wall, she buried her face in her pillow and sobbed like a child. A lost, frightened child.

The mattress slumped with Jace’s weight as he lay down behind her. Gathering her into his arms, he nestled against her back. He held her in silence, his body molded to hers. She calmed inside the cocoon of safety and warmth.

His gesture of comfort was almost too much to bear. She realized now that he’d never intended to hurt her. It was her own fault for letting herself fall in love with him. He’d tried to warn her against forming a relationship with him right from the start. She’d been so determined to seduce him that she never considered how the affair might affect her after it ended. She was too foolish, too tempted by things that were never meant to be, things that weren’t hers to have, would never be hers.

And now Grandfather was gone.

She fell asleep on that despairing thought, desperate to escape the pain of the day. A part of her hoped she would never awake. But she did awake. In Jace’s arms.

She managed to ease from his embrace, turning toward him. He slept quietly, and she took the brief moment to study his face. The urge to touch him, to feel the slight shadow of stubble on his unshaven cheek overwhelmed her. As if sensing this, his eyes fluttered open.

“You’re awake,” he said, rubbing sleep from his tired eyes.

“I’ve much to do.” She crawled over him, scampering to her feet. “I’d better get downstairs.”

Jace left her to freshen up. After speaking briefly with Rhetta downstairs, Maddie proceeded to the parlor, where Jace sat, drinking coffee. He set down his cup as she entered.

“How can I help?” he asked, rising.

She shook her head. “You’ve done enough,” she said. “Grandfather wished to be buried in the family plot with my parents. He’d insisted that only Rhetta, Gil, and I attend his burial.”

Jace looked disappointed. “I can stay—”

“No, thank you,” she said. “Gil has gone for the casket.” She reached for the letter on the mantel. “Grandfather left this with Gil. It’s addressed to you.”

Jace took the letter. “What is it?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea,” she answered, honestly.

Jace tucked the letter into his coat pocket.

“Thank you, Jace. For last night.”

“Maddie—”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “And I want you to know I’ve decided to leave Misty Lake.” She stared into his handsome face. Lifting her chin, she steeled herself against the lure of his striking blue eyes. “Now that Grandfather has passed, there’s nothing keeping me here.”

* * * *

Maddie carefully arranged the large bunch of daisies on Grandfather’s grave. After only five days, she missed him so much. Tears blurred her vision as she stared down at the grave, the scent of freshly turned earth filling her nose.

She gazed skyward, searching the expanse of crisp blue and the billowy clouds. There were so many questions and mysteries, and she felt helplessly small. She knew grandfather was out there, his spirit, his soul. She could feel him as plainly as the sun on her face and the breeze through her hair.

All around her, her family lay in eternal rest. The parents she’d barely known and now Grandfather. She would leave this place, but their love would follow her. A tear rolled down her cheek. Her history would follow her, too. The pain of losing her friends was a part of her now, and that ache would be with her always. But not all of the changes wrought by the accident were unwanted. Maddie knew she had gained in compassion and depth of character what she had lost in human companionship.

She also knew that, were it not for the accident, she would have married Daniel. Which meant that she might never have had the chance to fall truly in love. As badly as things had ended with Jace, she could not regret that.

She wiped at her eyes and stood. She had much to do and could tarry here no longer. Leaving Misty Lake was for the best. Whatever excuse Jace gave as to their broken engagement was unimportant. No one would care. They’d be happy just knowing they were finally rid of her.

She would go to Boston and start a new life for herself. With her inheritance from Grandfather, she had more than enough money to do it. She wouldn’t ever need to work if she didn’t wish to, but she thought she would attempt to find employment anyway. It might be a good way to find friends.

What she would not do was seek out Philip. He had sent a brief note expressing his condolences, and she knew he would welcome her with open arms with only the tiniest encouragement. But Maddie had no intention of using Philip to escape her misery. Somehow, she would muddle forward on her own.

* * * *

Jace paced his empty office. He’d tried to catch up on some work, but he couldn’t get Maddie from his mind. He strode to his desk, then reread the letter from Adam Sutter.

Watch after her, please. You’re all she has now.

He frowned. Now that her grandfather was gone, she was alone. Jace was confident she’d be left in peace to grieve. She was in mourning, and people would respect that. With any luck, she’d manage to leave town without being bothered.

He paced through the house. Reminders of Maddie were everywhere. Each room reflected the changes she’d made to make his simple office a home. The withered lilacs on the mantel, the potted fern by the door. She would make a fine wife.

The thought wrenched in his gut. His work—his patients—required a constant commitment. There was no room in his crammed world for anything more. No time to cultivate and sustain a marriage. Certainly no time for love.

But Maddie should not be forced from her home. His eyes fixed on the small wooden box she’d given him. The precious symbol of all she’d been through.

“The hell with this,” he muttered as he strode from the room. He shrugged on his coat, then charged out the door.

The miles to Maddie’s house passed quickly as the buggy rolled along. Somehow he’d become her protector, her friend, and he would not desert her now. When he arrived at the house, he was still uncertain what to do.

Rhetta led him to the parlor. Several minutes passed before Maddie finally appeared.

“Tea won’t be necessary, Rhetta,” Maddie said stiffly. “You may proceed with your plans in town.”

With an awkward nod, Rhetta left them alone.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m busy,” she said. “I’m in the midst of packing.”

“So, you’re really leaving?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Tell me you’re leaving of your own accord. Not at my urging. Not at theirs. Don’t allow others to chase you from your home.”

She looked him in the eye. “I’m not leaving for you. I’m not leaving for them either. I’m leaving for me.” She lifted her chin. “This house is my home. Outside its walls, I’m a stranger. A pariah. I’ll never be a part of things here. I’ll never be a member of the women’s quilting bee or church choir. Misty Lake will never again be my home,” she said. “It just took me a very long time to accept that.”

“Why did you visit the stable that night?”