“You will remain with us, ja?” Franz drew her attention. “At least until Rebekah is stronger?”
She nodded her agreement as others voiced concern and congratulations on the Bittner’s increasing family. Maggie forced a smile, then turned away toward the front windows.
Where would she go, anyway? The wagon train was gone, she had no money to go back east… At least, here, she would eat.
As the conversation wound down, Rebekah and Franz rose. “We’d better be going. Maggie, you come home when you are ready.” She hugged Maggie tightly. “We’ll see that Leopold gets his supper.”
“Be sure Franz is prepared to sew himself up when he’s done.”
Maggie opened her mouth to defend her pet against the sheriff’s accusation, but the teasing laughter had her smiling instead.
Marshal Hawken and his beautiful wife, Mary, said their goodbyes and followed the Bittners out, as did a couple of other ladies from the church who were already discussing the details of the funeral meal.
When only Kris and Maggie remained, he offered to show her the cemetery where her father would be laid to rest. Maggie thanked Martha and Matthew for opening their home, and walked with Kris to a small hill east of town. Simple wooden markers could be seen among the leaves littering the ground. Moving slowly, Maggie wandered to the far end of the cemetery to a bench that would be shaded by venerable oak trees come summer.
“It’s a lovely spot.” Maggie stared off toward the river in the distance. The water looked cold and sluggish, reflecting the gray of the clouds gathering overhead. “It helps to think of Papa here. Thank you for your generosity.”
“Maggie, you’re one of us now, if only for a short time. This is what neighbors do for each other.”
She brushed at fresh tears with a square of faded calico. Would she never stop crying? “I’ve done nothing to deserve their kindness, so I’m doubly grateful. Even the man I was to marry wouldn’t have been so nice as everyone has been to me.”
“Marry? You’re engaged?”
“Not anymore, though I thought we were when we left New York. Alfred asked for my hand, but he failed to mention that he was already married.”
She expected Kris to ask the question, so sure was she that her sins were stamped on her forehead for all to see. Thank God, Papa never knew.
“Did he own up to his lies?” Kris came to stand beside her, blocking some of the damp breeze that cut through her cloak.
“Only when I went to meet him and discovered him with his wife, who was obviously carrying the next generation.” Anger vibrated through her all over again. “I was so in love with him, I’d have done anything, given him everything.” She choked on the word, knowing she’d done exactly that. “He swore my limp didn’t matter, that perfection wasn’t important.” Her laugh sounded hollow, even to her ears. “That, at least, was the truth. Nothing mattered but having his train ticket home to his wife paid for by someone else.”
The wind picked up, moaning in the trees surrounding the cemetery and bringing with it the scent of rain.
“We should head back or we’ll get drenched.” Kris offered his arm and Maggie rose, clinging to his assistance while she could. If what she’d begun to fear turned out to be true, the fine folks in River’s Bend would turn their backs on her, just as her neighbors back east had.
CHAPTER FIVE
“The service was very nice, Reverend Oltmann. Papa would have been pleased. Would you thank Mr. Hart for me for singing Papa’s favorite hymn?” Margaret stood alone near the altar, her chin up and her eyes dry. Her voice was flat, wooden, devoid of the spirit that was Margaret Flanaghan.
The last of those who had accompanied the grieving daughter to the cemetery were gathered on the lawn in front of the church talking quietly, wrapped up against a cold wind that hinted at snow. A few would go with her to the Tates’ home for coffee and cake, but most waited for her to leave the church before leaving. Kris knew they stayed because they wanted to be nearby to help. River’s Bend had more than its fair share of good people.
“I’ll be sure and pass that along. Are you ready to go?” He stood a few feet away, his long black coat buttoned, his black John Bull top hat in hand. “You know you’re welcome to return to the church whenever you want.”
“I know. It’s just…” Her shoulders heaved with a shuddering breath. “I can’t make myself walk outside,” she whispered. “When I leave the church, it will all be real. Final. As long as I stay right here, I can pretend…” She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled, white handkerchief.
“I wish I knew how to make this easier for you, Maggie. I’d take away the pain if I could.”