Emilie Richards – Fox River (страница 16)

Again she thought of Fidelity, and, inevitably, of Christian.

“You have the expression on your face you used to get as a little girl.” Maisy released Julia’s arm. “You’re a million miles away. I used to wonder how to travel that far.”

Julia was surprised. Maisy, for all her love, her sneak attacks into intimacy, rarely expressed what she was feeling. She decided to be honest. “I was just thinking about Fidelity.”

“What brought her to mind?”

“Being here, I guess. I feel like a girl again.”

“She was a big part of your childhood. Christian, too.”

Julia couldn’t touch that. “And Robby. So much sadness.”

“You saw too much sadness.”

“I’ve wondered if that’s what this is about. If I’m blind because of that. If everything finally caught up with me. Fidelity’s murder, Christian’s conviction, Robby’s accident.”

“Did you ask the doctor?”

“Would you share the time of day with that man?”

“Julia, do you want me to see if I can find you a good therapist, somebody you’d feel comfortable talking to?”

Julia could imagine the sort of therapist her mother might choose. An escapee from Esalen, a guru who started each session with ancient Hindu chants or a fully orchestrated psychodrama.

Maisy laughed a little, low and somehow sad. “This is interesting, but I really can almost see your thoughts now. You’ve always been so good at hiding them, but that’s changed.”

“Maisy, I—”

“There’s a woman in Warrenton who is supposed to be excellent. No fireworks or instant revelations. Just good listening skills and sound advice.”

Julia wondered what choice she had. Did she want to call her own friends for recommendations and open her life to more gossip? Could she trust Bard to find someone more suitable?

“Why don’t you give her a try? If you don’t like her, we’ll look for someone else.” Maisy took her arm. “I’ll wash in the dishpan, and I’ll put the clean dishes in the other side of the sink to rinse. You can dry them and stack them on the counter.”

Julia joined her mother at the sink, but the first dish she picked up slipped and fell back into the sink.

“Don’t even say it.” Maisy adjusted the water to a lighter flow. “I won’t put you to drying the good china just yet.”

Julia picked up the plate again and started to rub it with the towel Maisy had provided. “We did this when I was little. Remember? Of course, then I could see what I was doing.”

“From the time we moved in here. When it was just you and me.”

For Julia, those early days seemed like centuries ago. She remembered little before Jake joined their lives and almost nothing of living in the big house with her father. “Why did you move here, Maisy?” She had asked the question before, of course, but she hoped now she would get a more detailed answer.

“Truthfully? Ashbourne’s too large to manage without help, and I thought we needed the time alone to heal after your daddy died.”

“How about later?”

“By then I’d grown to love this place. I couldn’t imagine the two of us rattling around the big house. Then Jake came along…”

Julia couldn’t imagine Jake at the big house, either. Ashbourne had been built by and for people who assumed that they, too, were somehow larger than life. Jake had no such illusions.

Since the conversation was going well, Julia ventured further. “Ashbourne almost seems like a museum. A record of life on the day my father died.”

“Ashbourne belongs to you. I never saw the point of changing things or selling the antiques. I like living here. It will be up to you to decide what to do with Ashbourne once you’re ready.”

“Bard would like to live there.” Ashbourne was grander than Millcreek, although Millcreek had been in his family since the Revolutionary War.

“I always thought as much.”

“But not until you open the property to the Mosby Hunt. It would be too embarrassing for him to live there if you didn’t.”

“And I won’t.” Maisy plunked more dishes on Julia’s side of the sink. “Not as long as the land’s in my name.”

Maisy’s objection to foxhunting at Ashbourne was legendary. Her determination to keep foxhunters off her land had made her the butt of many a local joke and the occasional prank. Julia, by default, had suffered, too.

“Speaking of Bard…” Maisy turned off the water. “I think that’s his car.”

Julia had been waiting all evening for the low purr of the BMW’s engine. Now she heard it, too. “This should be a laugh a minute.”

“Where would you like to talk to him?”

“Somewhere Callie can’t overhear. How about the garden?”

“It’s a little cool tonight.”

“I have a sweater in the dining room.”

“I’ll get the door and the sweater.”

Julia listened as Maisy’s footsteps disappeared. She had steeled herself for this confrontation. Her marriage to Bard had always seemed simple and forthright. It had also been untested, and it was failing this one, as if the added weight of her blindness had tipped a precariously balanced scale.

Moments passed. She heard murmurs from the front of the house, a door close, then footsteps. She dried her hands and turned, leaning against the counter with her arms folded. When he crossed the threshold, she was ready.

“Hello, Bard.”

“Julia.” His voice was tight, as if his throat was closing around it.

“We expected you earlier. Maisy saved a place for you at the dinner table.”

“I’d like to talk to you alone. If I’m allowed?”

She was annoyed by his tone. “You don’t need to be rude. Maisy?”

“Right here. I brought the sweater.”

Julia held out a hand, and Maisy placed the sweater in it. “Need help getting it on?”

“No, I’ll manage.”

Maisy must have turned, because her voice came from a different place. “Julia would like to have this conversation in the garden. Can you help her get there?”

“I can still escort my wife any place she needs to go.”

Julia spoke without thinking. “And any place I don’t need to go, as well.”

“Now who’s being rude?” Bard stepped forward to help her with her sweater.

She didn’t apologize, although it had been a cheap shot. “Let’s go out through this door. Callie’s in the barn with Jake.”

“I understand you sent for Feather Foot, too. Just how long do you intend to stay?”

“As long as I need to.”

She heard the kitchen door open, then felt Bard’s big hand on her upper arm. “Let’s finish this outside.”

He was a large man with a long stride. He did little to modify it as he propelled her to the garden. She stumbled once, and he slowed down, but she could tell he was annoyed by the way he continued to grip her arm.

“You should try this sometime.” Julia came to a halt when he did. “Being dragged along by someone bigger than you. It’s not a reassuring feeling.”

“I didn’t drag you.” He hesitated. “Damn it, I’m sorry. Okay? I’m just so angry.”

“Is this what happens when you don’t get your way? Or hasn’t that happened often enough for you to recognize the signs?”

“You’re determined to be stupid about this, aren’t you?”

“Stupid?”