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Lena and Jessie settled into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal, leaving Maddie alone with her remorse. She slumped onto the bed, knowing she'd made herself a perfect fool by giving into her anger, and worse, she'd drawn unnecessary attention to herself.
The ginger cat oozed around the open door, taking a cautious survey of the room and at last determining to enter. He stood in the middle of the rug for a moment before jumping onto the bed beside her. A gentle nudge of his head against her arm made his request clear. Maddie stroked the orange head. The cat's eyes closed and he thrust out his chin for more.
Laughter drifted upstairs.
"No point in sulking, right, kitty?" The cat purred in response and curled beside her into a passable imitation of a bread loaf.
Dr. Reynolds seemed to make a point of flaunting his honesty, insisting he had no choice once he'd given his word but to do as his father bid. The virtuous Dr. Reynolds would disapprove of her father's pragmatic notions of honesty. A man not given to reading literature, her father had heard once and often quoted Plato, of all people. "Honesty is for the most part, less profitable than dishonesty." She'd hated it then; she loathed the philosophy now.
Maddie wiggled her fingers along the silky fur behind the cat's ears as she blew out a long breath of frustration. She knew she couldn't stay in the room a moment longer with the evidence of her father’s crime hulking beneath the bed. A quick change into fresh clothes and she followed the happy voices of the women into the kitchen, leaving the bed to the sleeping cat.
"You know as well as I do that my cooked potatoes are the worst! They either have lumps, or I've beaten them into glue." Jessie pouted, a pile of peeled potatoes before her and a paring knife gripped in her hand. "Maybe he'd like baked beans just as well."
"Sorry, Jessie, that's what Dr. Reynolds said he liked. His favorite dinner is meatloaf and mashed potatoes." Lena shook her head. "Can't imagine a man from his fine background preferring such common faire, but that's what he told me."
Jessie whined, "But he'll hate mine!"
"You know mine aren't any better," Lena said.
"How about a loaf of tasty potato bread?" Jessie's pout reformed itself into a hopeful grin.
Maddie interrupted, "I could make them."
Both women looked around at once.
Lena smiled and shook her head. "That's very nice of you to offer, but you've scarcely been with us a day. We can't ask you to cook." Lena studied an open cookbook, leafing through pages. "I'm sure we can find a better recipe."
"But I really want to help. Please?" Maddie picked up another knife. "After behaving so poorly at tea, I feel I must do something." She pulled the bowl of potatoes across the table. "I used to cook for. . ." she stopped herself just in time from saying her father—"the school orphanage. We took turns, you see." Before Lena could object, Maddie took the knife from Jessie’s hand and cut the potatoes into even cubes. "I'll make them as smooth as butter. Do you have any dill?"
Jessie nodded. "We sure do. I'll get you some."
"Are you sure, Madison? I'm sure we can. . ."
"Just show me where the pots and pans are kept." Maddie rolled up her sleeves, tied on an apron, and set to work.
"Something sure smells deeelicious!"
Bart slid his arms around Jessie's widening waist. Maddie focused her attention on her stirring. Such public displays of affection were something she'd not often witnessed and had certainly been told proper young women should not allow. She watched them surreptitiously from the corner of her eye.
"Oh, Bart, it's just some applesauce." Jessie brushed Bart's hands away from her stomach. "Stop that! You're embarrassing Maddie." Jessie shot Maddie a teasing look.
Bart stepped back, taking off his hat as he did. "Sorry, Miss Madison, it's just that my wife here can't be resisted, especially when she's cooking. My two favorite things to taste are her good cooking and her sweet kisses." He bent over and kissed Jessie on the neck before spinning on his heel, leaving both women pink-cheeked and giggling.
"Don't mind him," Jessie laughed. "It seems the fatter I get, the more lovin' that man grows. You think that's normal?"
Maddie felt her face grow even hotter. Lena coughed.
A few hours later, Lena's savory meatloaf sat steaming on the dining table next to a heaping cloud of mashed potatoes. Jessie's fragrant gravy made the meal complete.
Evan sat at the head of the table, his eyes darting between the hall clock and the food arrayed before them.
After a third pleading look, Lena said, "It looks as if Dr. Reynolds has been detained. Perhaps we should eat without him."
"It's a shame, but that does seem best." Evan already had a pile of potatoes on his plate covered with a river of gravy.
Lena cleared her throat, waiting. Her hands lay still in her lap.
Evan hesitated, mouth open, with a piece of meatloaf speared on his fork. "What?"
"Forgetting something?" Lena asked, her eyebrows doing their best to point at the others around the table.
Evan looked up, an expression of revelation washing over his face. "Oh! Yes." He put the fork and the meatloaf down on the serving platter and lowered his head. "Lord, we thank you for your bounty. Please bless the hands of those who prepared it. And Jesus, we're grateful for new friends too. Amen." Instead of immediately reaching for his fork again, he took hold of Lena's hand and squeezed it.
Maddie initially saw his action as charming, but upon reflection found it condescending. Both Bart and Evan expressed a distinct ownership of their wives. She'd never thought of it in that way before she'd attended Emma Willard's School for Young Ladies. It was good to at last have her eyes open. She accepted the platter of meatloaf from Bart without comment and a mere nod of her head. Women were far too inclined to thank men for the slightest effort on their behalf.
Only attending to half of the table conversation, Maddie grew petulant, recalling the earlier conversations with the two doctors. Evan spoke of the ranch where he worked. Some discussion followed about the need to improve and enlarge the main house. She recalled some discussion of sheep as livestock and how they were economically superior to cattle. She never paid enough attention to understand why. As they cleared the dishes, she held the bowl with the remnants of mashed potatoes. She was glad Dr. Reynolds had not been present to offer his opinion of her culinary skills. That would have been insufferable.
"Time for taking a trip!" Jessie declared as she folded her dish towel over the back of a kitchen chair. Laughing at Maddie's puzzled expression, she skipped to her side, looping her arm through Maddie's. "Come on."
Since spring had not yet taken possession of the nights, the house grew cool after sunset. Evan kindled a fire in the large stone fireplace taking the chill from the room and replacing it with a warm glow. Lena took the large chair near the hearth while Jessie cuddled up next to Bart on the small divan. Evan stood at the opposite side of the hearth, a poker in his hand. He gave her the impression that this was his designated position as chief steward of the fire.
"Come, Maddie, sit here." Lena patted the seat of the stuffed chair beside her.
Still puzzled, Maddie perched on the chair. The ginger cat materialized and jumped into her lap.
"Are you a cat lover, Madison? It appears that Sticks has taken a liking to you."
"We became acquainted earlier today. Sticks? That's his name?"
Lena explained, "Yes. If you stay with us long, you'll soon learn my husband's propensity for attracting strays. He found poor Sticks as a kitten with a stick stuck between his teeth. He was nearly starved. Of course, you can tell he recovered exceptionally well. But he continues to have an unhealthy interest in carrying sticks around in his mouth, hence the name."
Maddie stroked the cat's chin until it settled into a comfortable wide ball of warmth on her lap. "It's quite all right. I never had a cat around before. He's nice." As the cat began a rattling purr, Maddie relaxed back into the chair cushions.
"Are you familiar with the book, The Scarlet Letter?" Lena thumbed through the pages until she arrived at a place marked with a blue ribbon.
"Yes." Maddie remembered well the shocking revelation of man's arrogance and hypocrisy after Mrs. Fitzhugh spent one full month explaining the social implications of Hawthorn's masterpiece. An adulterous woman forced to wear a scarlet ‘A’ upon her clothing to announce publicly her sin was mandatory reading for every progressive-thinking woman.
"We just read the really sweet moment where her little girl, Pearl, wants to understand the reason she doesn't wear the letter too." Jessie drew her hand to her throat in a dramatic gesture worthy of the stage. She quoted, Mother, the sunshine does not love you. It runs away and hides itself because it is afraid of something on your bosom.
"She does this every time," Bart said with a teasing smile. "Jessie can still quote whole speeches from Ivanhoe. The woman's got a memory like a steel trap." He lowered his voice and added, "And that's come back to bite me for sure, more than once."
Jessie punched Bart's arm. "And what's wrong with that! Reading improves your mind."
Bart drew his lips into a thin line that seemed tempted to curl into a smirk. "Nothin' wrong except when you throw one of those lines at me in a fight."
"When do I ever do that? Besides, we don't fight," Jessie scowled.
"How about last night? Young men's love lies in their eyes. That's what you said, as though I were lyin’ to you."
"Maybe I did. But you quoted it wrong. Young men's love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes."
Evan surprised her by interrupting the banter. "Now, youngsters, what will Madison think of us? Settle down. Let Lena read." He perched on the arm of Lena's chair. "Go ahead, Lena. We're listening." He shot Bart a warning look.
Lena's voice, strong and melodic, filled the room for the next hour. Drawn back into the familiar story, Maddie raged inside at the inequitable treatment of Hester and her lover, only one publicly humiliated. As Lena closed the book, Maddie envisioned herself branded with a letter upon her bosom, not the letter ‘A’ but ‘T’ for a thief. But unlike Hester she shared her sin with no one else.
The door opened and closed. Footsteps in the hall announced Dr. Reynolds’ entry.
Jessie said, "Oh, my Lord! Whatever in the world happened to you? You look like you been kicked by a mule."
Bart sprang up, taking David's coat and hat.
David shrugged, a bemused expression working its way across his features. "Kind of feels that way." He touched his cheek tentatively with his fingers.
Lena glanced anxiously at Evan as she rose to her feet next to him. "Can we get you anything? Jessie why don't you heat water so Dr. Reynolds can wash up. I’m certain we could all use a cup of tea, too."
"I'm sorry I missed dinner. Dr. Thornton and I were late getting back, so we decided to share a meal at the hotel. I didn't think. . ."
"That's no matter, doctor. The men were glad for the extra helpings." Lena laughed lightly.
"Those are stitches, aren't they?" Bart asked with a hint of admiration in his voice.
"Afraid so. Seems the father of our patient took exception to our treatment of his daughter's injuries. I got in the way of his refusal." David chuckled, then winced, touching his cheek again.
"Let me guess. Farley," Bart said.
Maddie saw the exchange of knowing looks between Bart and Evan, suggesting a personal history with the man who'd inflicted the damage to David's face.
"That's him. Learned a little of his story from Dr. Thornton."
Evan asked, "Would you like to sit for a time before heading upstairs?" He grinned and winked. "I could offer you something a mite stronger than tea."
David seemed hesitant, attempted a lopsided smile, then took a seat on the hearth near Maddie. "I might like that. Just a small glass. It's what I'd suggest to my patients, so I guess it's good to take my own advice." He threw a sideways glance at Maddie.
As curious as she was about the circumstances of the doctor's altercation, Maddie could scarcely bring herself to meet his gaze. She could feel her cheeks burning. What must he be thinking of her? She’d made a fool of herself at lunch. Glancing at Lena, she whispered, "I'll help Jessie in the kitchen."
By the time the two women returned with a tray of tea and cake, the men were laughing like old friends, holding half-empty glasses.
"It's near impossible to protect yourself from a punch like that," Bart said. My younger brother caught me with one once when I wasn't expecting it." Bart shook his head. His closed hand drew a long horizontal line in the air. "Knocked me flat out cold. Didn't come to for a couple of hours."
"Well, that explains a lot!" Jessie said as she placed the tray on the side table. If the men had not already been relaxed by the whiskey, Jessie's infectious laugh would have broken the tension.
Maddie hovered behind the overstuffed chair, imagining herself invisible. Unfortunately, her efforts were unsuccessful because Dr. Reynolds turned his gaze directly upon her and said, "Oh, I just remembered. Dr. Thornton and I were at the hardware store right after our tea with you ladies. Mr. Wilkinson's wife is looking for an assistant. I thought of you right away, Miss Alexander."
Maddie steadied her voice to respond. "Oh? And what type of work is she performing? Sewing or cleaning services?" She immediately regretted her terse tone when she saw the doctor's expression fall.
He dropped his gaze and touched a finger to the rim of his nearly empty glass before adding, "No, not at all. Actually, she's setting up a small bookstore at the side of her husband's shop. I understand that she's acquired quite a collection for herself. But through our brief conversation, I learned that she will be ordering books directly from New York distributors, including the latest periodicals."
Maddie felt her eyes grow wide. In the next moment, she managed to respond, "I see."
"I thought that given your interest in literature, the job might be ideal for you, one you might consider a proper career."
Maddie detected no sign of sarcasm in his tone, no emphasis on the word proper, as she’d expect.
Before she could respond, Jessie skipped to her side, grabbing both her hands. "That's so perfect for you! How exciting!"
Maddie could have hugged Bart when he drew the doctor's attention back to a previous conversation about his favorite topic—fishing. From Reynolds' frozen expression, perhaps this was not a topic he particularly found relevant to his life. As she watched him, he turned and caught her eye. Holding it for just a moment, he gave her a small smile.
The warmth of it, the genuine kindness in his eyes, made her responding smile as natural as breathing.
