Page 151 of The Ranger

She gave him a half smile. “Most young ladies do.”

He continued his slow pacing, his eyes never leaving her. He reminded her of a huge cat, a cougar or panther...

“Do you wish children?”

She blinked in surprise. “Well, doesn’t everybody?”

“Markhel!” Grandma Waller called. She lifted her skirts and headed their way. Maida had never seen the old woman move so fast.

When she reached them, she looped an arm around one of his, bringing him to a stop. “Well, Maida, it’s nice to see you. Are you going to help us decorate the barn?” She looked at the bouquet still in Markhel’s hand. “For me?” she teased.

“No. For Maida.” He offered them again, his eyes filling with... what was that?

“Well don’t just stand there, child,” Granda Waller said. “The man brought you flowers. Take them and put them in some water.”

Not wanting to appear rude, she took the bouquet, turned on her heel and went into the house. As soon as she was alone in the kitchen, she set the flowers on the counter and sucked in several gulps of air to hold back tears. What was wrong with her? She wanted to suddenly cry her eyes out. She wasn’t that heartbroken, was she? “No, I’m angry. He wants to use me...”

But how could she be angry with a man she knew nothing about? Not really. She’d been so infatuated with him, that she believed anything he told her. No more. She had to be smart about this. Besides, how could anything he’d told her thus far about himself be true?

She leaned against the counter and tried to remember what Mama said to her the night before.

“Hello dear.”

She turned to find Mrs. Mulligan standing by the kitchen door.

“Hello. Can I get you something, Mrs. Mulligan?”

“Some coffee if you have some.” She went to the kitchen table and sat. “How have you been, Maida, dear?”

She went to the hutch to fetch a cup and saucer. “I’m all right.”

She poured the woman some coffee and offered the cup and saucer to her. “Cream and sugar?”

“Please.” Mrs. Mulligan smiled brightly. “That’s a mighty handsome young man out there. Are you going to put those flowers in a vase?” She took a sip of coffee and stood. “You shouldn’t let them die.”

Maida’s heart plummeted at her last word.

She looked at the flowers carelessly tossed on the counter and slowly gathered them up.

Mrs. Mulligan wandered into the pantry. She knew where everything was. She and her husband had been her often enough. She emerged with a small vase and filled it with water. “There, now you can add the flowers.” She gave Maida an expectant look.

She stared at her, her heart... good grief, it seemed like it was... getting bigger?

“Go on, dear. He went through the trouble of picking them for you. Polly said he planned to bring you some.”

She closed her eyes. “Why?” She opened them and looked at the flowers again.

“Well, in my experience, when a man brings you flowers, it’s to let you know he’s interested.” She went to the counter and began poking flowers into the vase.

Maida watched her, unable to move. Her heart was doing something, and she didn’t understand what. At the same time, the ache had lessened, and she became weak as a kitten. What was happening? Did it have anything to do with everything Markhel was telling her yesterday?

“Mrs. Mulligan?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Was Mr. Mulligan in love with you when you married? You weren’t a mail-order bride, were you?”

“Oh, no, dear. Far from it.” She gave Maida a heartfelt smile. “I was an indentured servant. Paddy, not only loved me, but fought for my freedom. Quite literally.”