Into the Woods (19 page)

"Perhaps I don't care to dance with a man who likes to hit his wife," she said in a lowered voice. How many nights had she opened the door to find Sally Trent standing there, searching for a lotion to make the cuts and bruises on her body heal faster?

Wendell's eyes narrowed. "Sal ain't even around no more. She went to live with her sister in Mobile."

"Smart woman," Matilda said. "I just wish she'd gotten smart a little sooner." She bit back the words before she married you. Wendell was already close to losing his temper. There was no need to goad him further.

Ezra was headed her way again, and Wendell apparently saw that they were about to be interrupted. He slunk away, casting a narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder as he rejoined his friends.

Less than half an hour later the music ended for the night. The energy that had filled the town all throughout the day began to fade. People yawned, small children slept against a father or mother's shoulder. The laughter dimmed as the light in the sky did.

Many in the crowd were saying their goodbyes when a creaking, colorful wagon made its way down Main Street as if the time of arrival had been planned.

Matilda was not the only one who stopped to watch the slow progress of the creaking conveyance. Everyone soon knew who the traveler was; the words Raleigh Cox, Rainmaker, were painted in a faded red across the front and sides of the wagon.

The mood of the crowd changed. For today they'd put their worries aside, but rain was needed badly, and soon. Welcoming a rainmaker into their midst would be a desperate move, but the farmers here were desperate men. They were looking at ruination.

Raleigh Cox, a tall, scarecrow-thin man with long, stringy pale hair, leaped from the wagon and strode toward the waiting crowd. When he stepped into the light, a few women gasped.

He was, perhaps, the ugliest man Matilda had ever seen. There was nothing symmetrical about his face, not a single beautiful feature. One eye was set higher than the other, and it wandered aimlessly, a lazy eye. His nose was long and crooked, his mouth thin, his chin sloped. His plain clothing hung on him, and when he lifted one hand to gesture to the crowd, she saw that his hands were unnaturally long and pale. The fingers looked almost like those of a skeleton.

"I understand you folks need rain," he said.

He might look ugly, but his voice was beautiful, sonorous and rich, commanding. With those words, he commanded the crowd. Some even held their breath as they waited for the rainmaker to continue.

"I can bring it," Cox said confidently. "And I see no reason to waste your time or mine with niceties. I'll need two weeks, a place to stay, food to eat, and care for my horse. I'll also need two hundred dollars."

"Two hundred dollars!" Henry Langford shouted from the center of the crowd. "That's outrageous." Wendell and Reggie nodded their agreement. "How about one hundred?"

Cox looked to the cloudless night sky. "Sir, this is a two-hundred-dollar job. Take it or leave it."

People put their heads together and whispered, casting suspicious glances at the rainmaker as they muttered. Voices rose and fell. The rainmaker stood calmly and silently by as a budding spark of new excitement wove slowly through the crowd.

There was little doubt that the men of the town would take their chances with Raleigh Cox. Desperate men would try just about anything.

* * *

She hated the smell of the room by the stables where Johnny slept, but this could not wait. After saying good night to her father and making her way to bed, Vanessa had waited to hear his own bedroom door close, and then she'd sneaked silently down the stairs, her anger growing with every step.

Johnny was not asleep. He was lying on his cot, still dressed, with a single lamp burning low at his side.

"How could you?" she said as she stepped into his tiny room.

He sat up, then stood, surprised to see her. "How could I what?"

She slapped him across the chest. "You danced with her! You ate her damn pie!" She hit him again with the flat of her hand. "She's a witch, and you smiled at her and treated her like... like she was a regular person!"

He smiled at her and she hit him again. "Are you jealous?"

"Of a witch? Don't be ridiculous."

Johnny put his arm around her. "I wasn't the only one who treated Matilda like she was a real person. I noticed your intended has taken quite a liking to her."

He was enjoying this too much! "Declan was just being kind, I'm sure."

"Was he being kind when he pulled her into an alley for a quick kiss?"

Her blood boiled. "He didn't," she seethed.

"He did. I saw them."

She closed her eyes. Nothing was going as she'd planned. Nothing!

She should simply dismiss Declan Harper and move on to someone else, but he was so damned convenient! Henry adored her too much, he would likely keep her under lock and key if she married him. Gordon Smith, who'd proposed just last month, lived in the next county, and would certainly not take kindly to her bringing her father's stableman along when they married. Every suitor presented some kind of similar problem.

Declan was perfect. He owned the land right next door, and he didn't worship her; she'd have all the time for Johnny she wanted.

Although, she did wish Declan would show some interest. He should be panting after her the way the others did. He should be flattered that she bestowed her attentions upon him. For a brief moment Vanessa doubted herself. Had she lost her beauty? Of course not. Her charm? Never. What was wrong? Declan Harper should be falling at her feet by now, begging to marry her.

She pushed back the panic that threatened to rise up. "You still love me," she crooned. "Don't you, Johnny?"

He hesitated. "Of course I do, Vanessa, but I wish you wouldn't be so..."

"So what?" she asked, dropping slowly and gracefully to her knees before him and unfastening his trousers.

"Sometimes you're downright mean."

"I know what I want, and I make it happen." She finished the task at hand, unfastening each and every button, then clasped Johnny's bottom with her hands and hugged him against her, gently, so as not to wrinkle her gown. "Is that a bad thing?" she whispered. "If I were a man, you'd say I was determined, but since I'm a woman, you say I'm mean." She placed her chin against Johnny's unfastened trousers and looked up at him, making her eyes wide, pouting just a little then licking her lower lip.

"I don't understand you, sometimes," he said softly.

"But you love me," she said, certain of the answer.

"Yes."

"You'll do anything for me? Anything I ask?" She rubbed her cheek against the ridge in his trousers, felt him grow even harder.

"Yes," he moaned. "Anything." She slipped her hands into his trousers and pushed them slowly to the floor. Johnny might not understand her, but she understood him quite well.

But then, men were so terribly simple to understand.

Chapter 13

Matilda spent the morning bottling rose water and oils and counting out jars of cream for Ezra to take to his store in Jackson. He'd want a few bottles of rose of vinegar, too, as well as rose honey and jelly.

After yesterday's excursion, Matilda was filled with energy and a new excitement that made it hard for her to keep her mind on the task at hand. The night had been wonderful, magical, a day to remember always. Surely Declan would not marry Vanessa now!

Before the Founders' Day Celebration had ended, she'd invited Ezra to Sunday dinner. He arrived right on time, just before noon, a smile on his face and a bouquet of clumsily gathered wildflowers in his hand.

"Hello, beautiful." His smile was wide and familiar, the twinkle in his eyes charming. "I'm starving," he said.

She placed the wildflowers in a tall, narrow vase and put them on the table. Her books and tools had been cleared away, and two places had been set.

Ezra sat in the rocking chair as she carried food from the kitchen to the table. As he watched her, his smile faded, and his eyes became deadly serious. She'd never seen him look so somber before, but she was afraid to ask why his mood had changed so drastically.

When she called him to the table he came quickly, moving the plate she'd set across the table from her own place and putting it beside her, taking the seat at her left and making himself comfortable as he filled his plate.

"So," he said as he speared a piece of beef. "Are you serious about this Harper fellow?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Serious?"

Ezra pinned his eyes to her. "Are you in love with him?"

She lowered her eyes and played with her peas. "I don't know. I think so."

He sighed long and loud, giving the simple exhalation an overly dramatic flair. "If he breaks your heart, I shall have to kill him."

She lifted her eyes and gave in to a small smile. "That's very gallant of you, I suppose."

"Of course, you could always forget that dark, brooding hulk of a man and move to Jackson and marry me."

"You're too young for me," Matilda said.

Ezra shook his head. "Yesterday you didn't have a proper wedding dress, and today I'm too young. I fear you are simply offering me one excuse after another. Ah, if you loved me the way you love that Harper fellow I'd have you out of here and married by midnight."

"I'm sure your father and your brothers would be less than thrilled if you came home with a witch as your bride." Her tone was light; the look Ezra shot to her was not.

"Is that why you always say no? Because you're afraid of what my family will think?"

"I always say no because you're not serious. Really, Ezra, you probably propose marriage to a dozen girls a week."

He set his fork aside and pushed his plate away. "Only you," he said seriously. "I guess I've been hoping that one day you'll change your mind and say yes."

Matilda placed her hand over his. "You're such a good friend," she began.

"But you don't love me," he finished for her.

She shook her head.

Ezra was not one to brood. He placed his hands over and under hers, sandwiching her hand between his, and gave her a wink. "If things don't work out with that Harper fellow, you let me know. If he breaks your heart, I'll mend it. After I kill him, of course."

"Of course." She leaned forward. "You're a wonderful friend," she whispered as she laid her lips on his cheek. He responded by placing an arm around her and hugging her as close as possible, considering that he sat on one chair and she sat on another.

The front door flew open, banging against the wall as if a powerful gust of wind had flung it inward. The sound of the door slapping the wall was so sharp that she and Ezra both jumped as they turned to look that way.

Declan crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them both. "How cozy."

* * *

When he'd seen Matilda and Cotter through the window, he'd become instantly enraged. She said they were friends, but they looked much too friendly for his liking.

"Don't you know how to knock?" Matilda asked, as if she were the injured party.

All of a sudden Declan felt like a fool; he'd come storming into Matilda's house like a jealous lover on a rampage. No wonder Cotter looked like he was having a hard time containing a laugh.

Maybe Matilda saw his vexation. She saved him from finding the words to apologize. "Are you hungry?" she rose from her seat. "There's plenty. Let me set another plate."

He felt like he should get out of here and leave the two friends alone, but he didn't care for the gleam in Cotter's eyes, the almost-smirk on the shopkeeper's pretty face. He took the seat on the other side of Matilda and glared at her guest.

While Matilda was fetching a plate and silverware, Cotter's smile died and his gaze hardened. "Hurt her, and you'll have to answer to me," he said softly.

"I'm terrified," Declan sneered.

"You should be."

Cotter's silly grin returned as Matilda did, and the conversation abruptly turned to mundane things: the drought and the Founders' Day Celebration and the rainmaker who had arrived on the heels of last night's dance. Cotter teased Matilda about stepping on his toes as she learned to dance, and when she asked, he told her about his brothers and sisters—the extensive Cotter family who all resided in and around Jackson. It was so clear these two were close, that they had confided in each other over the years, and Declan remembered Matilda's words: There are worse fates than marrying a friend.

And suddenly he was more jealous than he'd been when he'd looked through the window and seen the two of them holding hands and smiling at each other.

* * *

Matilda insisted that Ezra take a small basket of sweets and bread and cheese for his trip, as he loaded his wagon with the oils and pomades he'd purchased for his store. He looked over her shoulder, probably to make sure that Declan was watching, and then he scooped her up for a long hug that hoisted her feet from the ground.

"Remember what I said," he whispered. "If he breaks your heart, he's a dead man."

She did love Ezra a little, at that moment. Not the way she loved Declan, of course, but it warmed her heart to know he cared.