Chapter Five
William felt the evening was going quite well, considering the people crowded around Patricia Lane’s dinner table ranged in ages from nine years old to twelve hundred. Little Sarah, though, appeared more interested in the various conversations going on than in eating; Trace and Maddy were too busy catching up with each other to realize they weren’t the only people at the table; Rick was more interested in his food than in talking to anyone; and Maddy’s mother, Patricia, seemed quite interested in William—particularly regarding his interest in her daughter.
William could have bowed down to Trace for tricking Maddy into inviting him to dinner, right after he hugged him for daring the lass to kiss her boyfriend.
Kenzie had informed William that Maddy’s cousin was stopping by to visit her, so he’d had a good idea whose arms he’d found wrapped around her down by the river. But knowing the best way to size up a man was to threaten him, William had approached them rather aggressively. And not liking the idea of anyone’s arms around Maddy but his own, cousin or nay, the threat had for the most part been real.
Which Trace Huntsman had immediately realized.
As for sizing up his reaction, William had immediately decided he liked Trace. He’d been impressed not only by the man countering his threat by offering one of his own, but Trace had in turn sized up William by reading Maddy’s reaction.
William knew right then he was dealing with a fellow warrior, as well as with a man who was equally determined to find out who had slapped her.
“Mabel told me you were in the military with Kenzie,” Patricia Lane said to William. “Were the two of you in the same unit or something, and that’s what brought you to Midnight Bay? I’ve heard fighting together forms a strong bond between men.”
“Yes, we’re fellow warriors,” William said, smiling at the older though more reserved version of Maddy. “We’ve even been known to occasionally fight on the same side.”
That stopped Maddy and Trace’s conversation, making Maddy frown and Trace look thoughtful.
“I’m not going to summer rec tomorrow,” Sarah said, once again injecting a comment at a lull in the conversation that had absolutely nothing to do with anything.
“But you have to go to rec,” Maddy told her. “Gram’s going to Mrs. Bishop’s house to bake pies tomorrow, and you can’t stay home alone.”
The young girl lifted her chin. “Rick sleeps until noon and then watches TV when he gets up, so I won’t be alone. And I have to stay home because I’m going to be really sick tomorrow when I wake up.”
Maddy felt Sarah’s forehead as she eyed her daughter curiously. “You don’t have a temperature or look sick. I predict you’ll be just fine tomorrow morning,” she declared with a tender smile.
Sarah leaned away to glare at her. “That’s the problem with having a mother who’s a nurse—you think you know everything!” the girl cried, sliding back her chair and running out of the room.
“Let her go, Mom,” Maddy said over the sound of footsteps stomping up the stairs when she saw her mother push back her own chair. “I’ll talk with her at bedtime. I have an idea what’s bugging her,” she finished with a sigh, dropping her head in her hands to stare down at her plate.
“What’s summer rec?” William asked.
“It’s a program the town puts on for the kids while school’s out,” Patricia explained. “They play sports, do arts and crafts, swim, and sometimes take field trips.” She looked toward Maddy, who was still staring down at her plate. “Aren’t they going to Oak Harbor tomorrow, to the state park? Sarah’s been looking forward to that field trip all summer. Maddy, do you have any idea why she doesn’t want to go all of a sudden?”
Madeline lifted her head, and after darting a quick glance across the table at William, she looked at her mother. “I imagine it’s because Billy’s fiancée lives in Oak Harbor.”
“So?” Patricia said.
“So, all of Sarah’s little buddies also know his fiancée lives there, and the snotty little girls will start pointing out the bus window at every woman they pass and say, ‘Is that your new stepmom, Sarah? Cool, you can play dolls with her!’ Or maybe the snotty little boys will say, ‘Is that the hottie your daddy knocked up, Sarah? I heard my uncle say he must have balls of brass to be boinking something that young.’”
“Madeline Marie Lane, they’re only children!” Patricia cried. “They don’t know what a hottie is, much less what knocked up or . . . or boinking means. And I don’t appreciate that kind of language at the table.”
Maddy snorted. “I knew more about sex when I was ten than I do now. And trust me, they know exactly what those words mean, and they won’t be shy about explaining them to Sarah.”
“And this is why she doesn’t wish to go to summer rec?” William asked. “The other children are teasing her? But it’s not unusual for a divorced man to remarry.”
“The girl he’s marrying is eighteen,” Maddy growled. “She just graduated from high school two months ago.”
Rick tossed his fork onto his plate, shoved his chair back, and stood up. “And word is she’s four months pregnant,” he sneered. “Sissy never hid the fact she wasn’t interested in any of us high school boys, not when there were real men around, ripe for the taking. Look up whore in the dictionary, and you’ll find a picture of Sissy Blake.”
“Richard!” Patricia cried.
Rick glared at his sister. “Sarah’s not the only one getting teased around here.”
“Sarah is nine, Rick, not nineteen,” Trace said evenly.
William saw the teenager’s hands ball into fists. “Yeah, well, having my cousin broadcast a Mayday that he saw a mermaid in the Gulf isn’t helping, either!” Rick kicked his chair out of the way so hard it banged to the floor. He stormed out to the porch, slamming the door hard enough to make the windows shudder.
Maddy jumped to her feet to go after him.
William also stood up, intending to head her off.
But Trace—who remained seated—captured her by the wrist. “Let him go,” he said, gently pulling her back down into her seat. “I’ll check on him in town tonight, and keep him out of trouble.”
“I think they gather down at Pinkham’s gravel pit,” Maddy whispered, darting a worried glance at her mother before looking back down at her plate.
William silently picked up Rick’s overturned chair and then sat down.
“I’m sorry, William,” Patricia said, her face flushed with embarrassment. She gave a nervous laugh. “We’re usually more civilized when we have company.”
“Ye needn’t apologize, Patricia. A family squabble at mealtime is music to my ears. My sister could throw a tantrum that rattled the rafters. My poor sainted mother spent half her time chastising Gabby, and the other half defending her to our father.”
“You have a sister?” she asked with a hesitant smile. “Is Gabby a nickname because she likes to talk, or is it short for something?”
“It’s short for Gabriella, though the lass did like to speak her mind.” Seeing Maddy’s head lift curiously, William shot Patricia a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “Even with her hair hiked up in a bun, Gabby didn’t reach a man’s armpit, but she had the temperament of a magpie.”
“Oh, she sounds wonderful. Will she be coming to visit you in your new home? And your parents, too? I would love to meet your sainted mother,” Patricia said gaily. “I believe we might have a lot in common,” she finished with a grimace toward Maddy.
“I’m sorry, but all of my family has . . . passed,” William told her.
The older woman’s cheeks darkened. “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss, William.”
“Don’t fret yourself, Patricia. They’ve been gone for quite some time now. Maddy,” he said. “Has Sarah told you the children are saying those things to her?”
“No, she’s too embarrassed,” Maddy admitted—even as her chin lifted much like her daughter’s had. “But I’ve been getting plenty of feedback from the adults, though they’re careful not to actually say Billy replaced me with another tight-assed, perky-boobed, man-trapping cheerleader to my face. Only they forget kids hear everything they’re saying at home, and that the little snots are far less shy about repeating it.”
“Well, hell, Peeps, why don’t you tell us how you really feel?” Trace drawled.
Patricia stood up. “I think I’ll go check on Sarah.”
“I told you, I will talk with her just as soon as she’s over her little pout.”
Patricia rolled her eyes. “If she’s anything like her mother, that’ll take days.”
“I never pout.”
The older woman smiled. “That’s right; you don’t get mad, you get even. Trace, William, thank you for coming to dinner. We’ll have to do this again . . . soon.” She headed toward the hallway. “Don’t worry, Madeline. I won’t spoil your mother-daughter talk. I’m just going to have a grandmotherly chat with Sarah about . . . boinking,” she trailed off, disappearing up the stairs.
Trace arched a brow at Maddy. “So that’s what has your panties in a twist? Your ex-husband is marrying a younger woman, and that makes you feel like a baggy-assed, saggy-boobed, man-trapping cheerleader?”
“Billy is damn near old enough to be that girl’s father.”
Trace snorted. “Apparently Billy Kimble is the one who never learned his lesson. Whereas you, Peeps, learned yours too well.”
“What in hell are you talking about?”
Trace leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “You asked me today what happened to the fun-loving cousin you remembered, and now I’m asking you the same question.”
“She grew up!” Maddy snapped. “She had a kid with a jerk who never grew up, she spent five years in night school getting her nursing degree, buried her father and took on the responsibility of her fifteen-year-old brother, and spent the last four years trying to hold this family together.”
“And while you were doing all that,” Trace said quietly, “in-stead of growing up, you grew old.”
“Twenty-seven is not old.”
“No? So instead of being a pediatric nurse like you intended, you didn’t choose to work at a nursing home to be around people you have something in common with?” He leaned forward in his chair. “You may have spent the last four years holding your family together, but you also spent those years hiding behind them, trying to distance yourself from your own man-trapping-cheerleader past. When was the last time you went on a real date?”
Maddy stood up so forcefully her chair clattered to the floor behind her. “My love life is none of your damn business!” She turned her glare on William. “And if you ever kiss me in public or threaten to spank me again, I will sic my real boyfriend on you.” Her glare turned sinisterly smug. “He’s a big, bad-tempered, bear-eating bogeyman, and he’ll do anything I ask him to do because he loves me.”
Apparently satisfied he’d been duly threatened and sufficiently warned, Maddy kicked the fallen chair out of her way and marched to the door. “I’m going for a walk,” she said through gritted teeth. “And neither of you had better be here when I get back.”
“What time should I pick you up Saturday?” Trace asked softly.
Maddy halted with her hand on the doorknob, looking incredulous. But then her shoulders suddenly slumped. “I’ll be at the dock at nine,” she said, quietly walking out the door and closing it softly behind her.
William looked at all the empty chairs, and smiled across the table at Trace. “I’m assuming dinner is over?”
“Christ, it’s good to be home,” Trace said, returning his smile.
“Is there a reason ye just pushed her like that?”
Trace’s smile vanished. “To make sure there’s still enough fight in her to push back.” He folded his arms over his chest again. “You threatened to spank her?”
William shrugged. “I was just blustering. But since it was the first time she’d met me, she couldn’t know that I’d cut off my right arm before I’d hurt a hair on her head.”
“Have you met Maddy’s bogeyman boyfriend?”
“I’m afraid I’m the bogeyman,” William said with a chuckle. “It’s a long story best saved for another time, preferably when we’re on our fourth or fifth drink. What’s happening Saturday morning?”
“I’m taking Maddy out on my boat to show her my mermaid.”
“Your mermaid? So you started the rumor going around town?”
“Not intentionally.” Trace uncrossed his arms, pulled something out of his pants pocket, and flipped it across the table to William. “Have you ever seen anything like that before, Killkenny?”
William studied the front of the coin then turned it to look at the other side. “It appears quite old,” he said, looking over at Trace. “I’m not sure about the writing on the back, but I have seen the symbol on the front before.”
In the first unguarded gesture William had seen the man make since meeting him, Trace’s jaw went slack in surprise. “You recognize the symbol?” he whispered. He stood up, his stance somewhat aggressive. “Where is it from? What does it mean?”
William also stood up, and flipped the coin through the air to him. “It’s the mark of a strong arm,” he said, heading across the kitchen and out onto the porch.
“A strong arm?” Trace repeated, following him outside.
William walked down the stairs to the driveway and turned with a frown. “I don’t know the modern word for it. A strong arm,” he repeated, searching for a better term, “as in a protector or a champion.” He suddenly had a thought. “Like one of those knights of that table. Sir Galahad, I think his name was. And King Arthur. My friend Mabel told me these iron-clad warriors would receive some sort of token from a woman, and vow to be her champion.”
“Mabel Anderson, the teacher? Eve’s mother? She told you the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table?”
“Eve is married to my friend Kenzie Gregor, and I’m staying with them while my house is being built. And Mabel has been . . . entertaining me with such stories.”
Trace looked down at the coin in his hand. “And this is the symbol for a knight?”
“Nay, it dates back much further than King Arthur’s reign.”
Trace narrowed his eyes at him. “How come you know what this ancient symbol is, but you don’t seem to know much about knights?”
William shrugged. “I’m better versed in what went on before the ninth century.”
“You’re a historian, then?”
William glanced toward the path leading into the woods that he assumed Maddy had taken in an attempt to walk off her anger. He looked back at Trace, pointing at the coin in his hand. “If ye wish to find out more about it, ye need to look at the black magic being practiced several thousand years ago.” He shrugged. “If I had to guess, I would say the coin is a request for a strong arm, and the writing on the back is either the name of who is in need of a champion, or a warning as to where the threat is coming from. Where did ye say you got the coin?”
“There is no such thing as magic, black or otherwise.”
“No?” William darted another glance toward the woods then smiled at Trace. “Then why are ye taking Maddy out to show her your mermaid on Saturday?”
Trace shoved the coin in his pocket, took a deep breath, and returned to the guarded warrior William had first met. “Maddy’s a big girl,” he said, gesturing toward the woods. “She can take care of herself.”
“I noticed some strange markings on several of the trees back there,” William said, “and I can’t decide what sort of animal made them. So I’d rather the lass not have to take care of herself when I can do a better job of it.”
“Good luck with that, my friend,” Trace said with a chuckle. He headed toward his truck, opened the door, and looked back. “You go save your girlfriend, and I’ll go find out what in hell possessed Rick to slap his sister.”