Wishmakers Page 13

  “Of course I will. Isn't Penny due home soon? We worked on her spelling last night,” she said to Dolly, “and I'm anxious to know how she did today.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of Chip's mouth.

  Dolly followed him to the door. “Now don't you be working through the night without any hot food in your stomach. You take time to go up to Donna's, or call and she'll send something down.” Margaret laughed at the plump little woman talking to the tall, blue-eyed man as if he were a small boy. “And whatever did you do to those jeans? Chip Thorn, did you put them in with the whites?”

  Chip's eyes caught Margaret's, and he laughed out loud. “Ask Maggie.”

  “He deserved it!” Margaret blurted. “I'm sorry there were only four pairs!”

  Dolly's laughter bounced off the walls. “I just bet he did. You just might've met your match, Chip.”

  “I don't know about that. We've got a few rounds to go.”

  Margaret held her breath, watching his face to see if the remark held hidden sarcasm, but pure amusement was dancing in his eyes. Her own eyes must have given mute testimony of her anxiety, because suddenly he looked serious and he unfolded his arms and held them out to her.

  “Come kiss me good-bye, sweetheart.”

  Letting her breath out in a shaky laugh, Margaret moved forward and into his arms, forcibly reminding herself that this was all for Dolly's benefit. It was her last coherent thought as he pressed his mouth to hers in a long, hard kiss. His arms held her, and she was suspended in a haze of longing. He lifted his head, and her eyes flew open to stare up into his. He lowered his head again, and his lips grazed her cheek and slipped to her ear.

  “Do that again,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “Kiss me.”

  His mouth shaped itself to hers. She hesitated, then parted her lips against his and slowly traced the bottom curve of his inner lip with the tip of her tongue. This time there was a sense of familiarity in the feel of his mouth and in the flood of pleasure that washed over her.

  Her eyes were cloudy and her mouth was half-parted, when he moved his head back so he could look into her face.

  “Something tells me I should run like hell,” he said for her ears alone. “But I'll be back tomorrow. You can count on it.”

  Margaret only half heard him. Still in a state of emotional confusion, she fixed unfocused eyes on his mouth and watched his lips form the words. His arms left her, and two big hands righted her glasses.

  Dolly was chuckling behind them. “I thought you were going somewhere, Chip.”

  “Take care of my girl, Dolly. See you tomorrow.” He went out the door, and Margaret moved toward it to watch as he got into the four-wheel drive, circled the yard, and sped away.

  “Well, well, well.” Dolly was smiling broadly when Margaret turned to look at her. “I think you've got old Chip horn-swoggled at last.”

  “Got him what?”

  “Hog-tied. You know what I mean.”

  Margaret felt her face warm with telltale color. “Well, I don't know…”

  Dolly laughed again. “Well, I do. You like him, don't you?”

  Margaret turned away quickly and saw the yellow school bus at the end of the lane. “Here comes Penny.” The cool air fanned her flushed face as she stepped out onto the porch to wait for the child. Like him? I love him so desperately I may die from it. Her thoughts raced and her heart pounded happily as she watched the little girl run toward her. Could this ever be mine? Oh, God, I'd gladly give up every cent Daddy accumulated if there were just a chance I could live with Chip in a house like this and stand on the porch and watch our child run up the lane from the school bus.

  It became obvious as the evening progressed that Dolly and Penny adored Chip. Dolly's late husband had been one of the first men hired by Chip's father when he went into the lumber business. He had been killed in an accident, unrelated to the mill, several years ago, and Dolly had moved into the company house to act as housekeeper, bringing Penny with her. Penny's mother, Dolly's only child, lived in Denver. Although it was not voiced, Margaret was aware that Dolly disapproved of her daughter's lifestyle.

  Margaret wanted desperately to reveal her identity to Dolly and ask her about Tom MacMadden, Edward Anthony, and August Thorn, but something held her back. Chip had gone to such lengths to keep her identity secret, and he must have had a very good reason for doing so.

  It was after dinner and just before Penny's bedtime when the little girl dropped a piece of news that moved some of the puzzle pieces into place.

  “I wish Chip wouldn't go back to his other house when Maggie goes home. I wish he'd stay here. Why doesn't he, Grandma? If Maggie stayed here, would he stay, too?”

  Dolly's hands were still for a moment, and she let the needlework rest in her lap. “I don't know, honey.”

  Margaret's mind shifted into alertness and the picture of the barking dog on the dock flashed into it. “I'd think he'd have to go back and take care of his dog,” she said, casually flipping the page of a magazine. Dolly's hands stilled once again, and she glanced at Margaret over the rims of her glasses.

  “Hattie and Simon take care of Boozer,” Penny said quickly. “But Boozer likes me. Chip takes me up to his other house sometimes and lets me hit the balls on the pool table. I guess he wouldn't want to live here when he can live there.” She sighed deeply. “It's got soft rugs and big bathrooms and a TV this big.” Penny held her hands wide apart. “He's got one in his room, too. And you can punch on a little box by his bed and get whatever station you want. He let me do it once. Maybe he'll take you up there before you go home, Maggie.”

  “Maybe he will,” Margaret murmured. She looked up to see Dolly's eyes fixed intently on hers, watching and judging her reaction. Refusing to allow her features to reflect her inner turmoil, she smiled at Penny and changed the subject. “We do good work, don't we? Was Miss Rogers surprised that you had a perfect spelling paper?”

  “I want to get one next week, too. Will you be here to help me?” The child moved close and cuddled against her.

  “I'll be here part of the week. Bring the list home tomorrow and we'll get a head start. Okay?”

  After Penny went to bed, Dolly brought in mugs of hot chocolate, handed one to Margaret, and sat down again in the recliner.

  “This is very good,” Margaret said from her place at the end of the couch. This is where Chip and I made love, she suddenly thought. She moved her hand lovingly over the cushion beside her.

  “You didn't know about Chip's house? You thought he lived here all the time?” Dolly asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Ah, well, knowing he's a partner in Anthony/Thorn, I was aware he could probably afford to live in his own house. But this is company property, so I assumed he had the right to live here.”

  “I don't know why he didn't tell you, Maggie. He must have his reasons. He's a fine man—and very young for all the responsibility he shoulders. This whole area depends on the jobs Chip provides.” She paused as if groping for words to say something more in a tactful way. “I don't know whether you want to hear this or not, Maggie, but you're not the first girl to come out from the city to visit, and he's always brought them here.”

  Margaret and Dolly exchanged glances, and Margaret saw something like compassion in the older woman's eyes. “I like this house. It's cozy, and there's everything here a person could want. And you certainly don't have to hunt all over to find each other,” Margaret said with a small laugh.

  Dolly looked at her as if she couldn't believe her ears, and then her wrinkled face broke into a smile. “I like it, too. It's the nicest home Penny and I have ever had. I only hope we'll be able to live here until Penny is out of school and on her own.”

  “Is there any doubt of it?”

  “There could be. Chip's partner died a few months ago, and his daughter inherited those shares. Chip said it could mean one of two things. She'll either want to expand the business and go for a foreign mark
et—and he doesn't have the money for that—or she'll want to sell. And if he can't buy her out, she could sell to a big corporation that would close the mill down and use it for a tax deduction. I don't understand all that business stuff, but I know everyone is worried. Rich people from the city don't understand people like us.”

  “Has Chip met this woman?” she asked as casually as she could manage. As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wished she hadn't uttered them.

  “Once, I guess. He said she was Ed's pampered little girl and we needn't expect her to see Anthony/Thorn as anything but small potatoes.”

  “You sound as if you knew her father.”

  “Oh, yes. We all liked him at first. Then he got into the big money and bought everything he wanted. After he got it, he didn't come around anymore.” There was a bitter note in her voice. “You'll not find anyone 'round here who's got a good word for Ed Anthony.”

  “And why not? It was his money, too, that provided their jobs,” Margaret defended, forgetting all thoughts of caution.

  “His money, but it was August Thorn and his son who furnished the sweat and the know-how,” Dolly said firmly. “Ed Anthony is a subject people 'round here don't talk much about. Tell me about yourself, Maggie. Chip said he met you on one of his trips to Chicago.”

  For the next half hour they chatted easily, and Margaret hoped her lies were convincing. The story she told was what she wished had happened, and that made the telling easier.

  The next evening Chip phoned to say he wouldn't be coming out as he had planned. Several things had come up that needed his attention. Margaret swallowed her disappointment and listened as he told her that her friend had called from Chicago, and that he'd assured her that Maggie was having an enjoyable vacation.

  “Maggie?” he said after a while when she didn't say anything.

  “I'm here, Chip.”

  “This is a seven-party line, you know. Someone else may be wanting to use the phone.”

  “I understand.” It was his way of reminding her to watch what she said, she realized.

  “Be ready tomorrow morning and I'll come by and pick you up. We'll head on north.”

  Margaret thought she could hear someone breathing into the phone, and then she heard a muffled giggle.

  “All right. How long will we be gone?”

  “A couple of days. You don't need to take anything but a change of clothes. Tell Dolly to put a few things in a duffle bag for me. The Jeep is already packed with emergency supplies. Oh, yes. How about packing a food hamper? We should make it to the camp in time for dinner, but a snack on the way would be welcome.”

  “I'll do that.”

  “Have you missed me, sweetheart?”

  You don't have to carry it that far, she thought angrily, and then she heard the giggle on the line again. She made a quick decision in favor of appropriate action.

  “Of course I've missed you!” she breathed throatily. “Has it only been twenty-four hours, darling? It seems like years. Dolly and Penny are good company, but I want you,” she purred. “And Chip, darling, you did say I could redo the house upriver after we're married, didn't you? I've been looking in the catalogs for ideas.”

  “Darling!” He cut her off abruptly. “Do you know you're announcing our engagement to everyone on the party line?” His voice had more than a hint of firmness in it.

  “I told you he was going to marry her,” said a muffled voice that sounded very much like Beth's. The hand held over the phone failed to keep the words from coming across the line.

  “Oh! I'm sorry, darling,” Margaret said in a soft, saccharine tone. “Didn't you want anyone to know?”

  “Of course I did, sweetheart. But I wanted to wait until I had the ring on your finger. Would you like me to call the Chicago papers with the announcement?” There was an edge of a threat in his voice.

  Margaret caught her breath. What would she do now? She hadn't intended for the joke to go this far. “That won't be necessary. I'll do it when I go home to make the arrangements.” Her voice tightened; the fun had gone out of the game.

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He paused, then said, “Beth, what were you doing in town today? I told you what would happen if you skipped school again.”

  “I didn't skip! Classes were canceled for a teachers' meeting. If you don't believe me, you can call the high school,” the young voice rang out with no hesitation.

  “I believe you.”

  “Then why'd you have to say it on the line? You know everybody listens.”

  “Not everybody. I don't think Tim Walker's on the line. Are you, Tim?”

  “Oh, you make me so mad, Chip! I'm going to hang up. 'Bye!”

  “Are you still there, Maggie?”

  “Yes. You mean people listen to other people's conversations? How can you conduct private business?”

  Chip laughed. “You can't—not on the phone, that's for sure.”

  “Who is Tim Walker?”

  “A boy in Beth's class. I'll tell you about him sometime. Are you terribly bored?” he asked in a tone that seemed to assume that she was.

  “Nooo,” she drawled. “Keith's wife has been over, and I've been helping Dolly prepare apple pies for the freezer. We made six pies. Tomorrow we're going to make apple butter.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You like doing that?”

  “Of course! I learned to do a lot of things in school. It's just that it's been so long since I've done any of them. Chip…?”

  “Yes.”

  “Guess what? Penny's class had a spelling bee today, and she won!”

  He chuckled. “Great. I suppose you had a hand in it.”

  “Well, we did study together.”

  “I'll ring off, Maggie. Be ready at about ten, and I'll be by to pick you up. Dream of me,” he whispered, and he rang off before she could reply.

  Margaret was ready and waiting long before ten o'clock. A duffle bag containing a change of clothes for Chip, a backpack with Margaret's things, and a Styrofoam hamper of food rested beside the living room door. She was nervous and paced the floor restlessly.

  Before leaving for school, Penny had put her arms around Margaret's neck and hugged her. “You're neat, Maggie. I wish you'd never go away.”

  Remembering now, Margaret stopped her pacing and looked at Dolly. “How can Penny's mother leave her here and not come see her? I'd give anything to have a child like Penny.” She regretted the words instantly as a pained expression flashed across Dolly's face. “I'm sorry, Dolly. I—”

  “It's all right. Marion is like a lot of other girls. She likes the things a city offers. She couldn't wait to leave here, and she took up with the first man who offered to take her away. Penny was the result. He left her, and she brought Penny to me. Penny will probably want to do the same. I've no hopes of holding on to her. I've seen it happen so many times. And…so has Chip.” Dolly nervously wiped her hands on her apron. “Even his own mother—”

  The scrunch of tires on gravel cut off Dolly's words, and she went to the door. Margaret stood in the middle of the room. Her jacket was on the back of the chair. Chip's eyes found hers the instant he came through the door, and a feeling of happiness swamped her.

  “Ready to see what life in the backwater is all about?” Beneath his wool plaid jacket he wore a blue denim shirt tucked smoothly into his jeans. On his head was a visor cap with the Anthony/Thorn logo emblazoned in green on a white background.

  “I'm ready if you are.” Margaret reached for her jacket.

  “It's a dusty drive. Sure you want to wear the contacts?”

  “I have my glasses in my purse.”

  “Okay then. We'd better get started.”

  “Hi, Chip,” Dolly finally said from her place beside the door.

  “Oh, hello, Dolly. I didn't see you. I—”

  “Don't make excuses,” she chuckled. “I know why you didn't see me.” She split a wickedly sparkling look between the two of them. “You'd better
get started, unless you want a cup of coffee first.”

  “None for me, thanks. Is this it?” He glanced down at the bags beside the door.

  “There're clean sleeping bags and blankets piled in the chair on the porch,” Dolly said. “The ones up at the camp might be a little raunchy by now,” she added with a note of derision in her voice.

  Chip carried the bags and the hamper out onto the porch, and Margaret and Dolly followed.

  “Hop in,” Chip said without preamble. He opened the back of the Jeep and tossed in the bags.

  “You'll have a good time, Maggie, if you can stand the rough ride,” Dolly said.

  Impulsively, Margaret hugged the older woman and kissed her cheek. “I can stand it all right. 'Bye, Dolly. Tell Penny I'll be looking for a star on her spelling paper.”

  As soon as Margaret was seated beside Chip he started the motor and turned to look at her. “It's no luxury hotel up there, you know.” The sarcasm bit.

  “I know,” she said simply.

  He shrugged and swung the car in a circle and headed down the lane.

  They left the road before they reached the mill and took a dusty track that almost immediately began to climb through the trees. The road was rough almost to the point of nonexistence, jolting the Jeep first to one side and then to the other. Chip didn't seem to mind the pitching, but Margaret found it distinctly uncomfortable. As she grasped the armrest on the door to minimize the turbulence, she wondered if Chip had chosen the worst route available solely for her benefit. If so, he would be disappointed, because she wasn't going to utter one word of complaint. Was he still angry because she'd made that remark about marriage on the telephone? As soon as I'm gone he can tell whatever story he wants to save face, if that's what's bothering him, she thought with a feeling almost like despair.

  The track wound upward, and gradually the trees thinned out, bare rock taking over from earth. They drove along the edge of a deep wooded chasm. The air was cool and clean-smelling, and the sun shining through the windows was warm on her face. Margaret was sure she had never seen anything so achingly beautiful as the landscape stretched out before her.