Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [74]
If it hadn’t been for Max’s passing, he might never have known.
Eleven
Margaret knew something was terribly wrong with Matt. She sensed it. Felt it in every pore, every nerve, especially when she lay in his arms. As always, he was loving and attentive, but a part of him was missing—that was the only way she could describe it. Lacking confidence, she assumed the problem, whatever it might be, originated with her. If not, perhaps that other woman was somehow involved; she was afraid to find out, afraid of what it would do to her and Matt. To their marriage. For the first time in her life, she felt like a coward.
The only person Margaret could talk to was Maddy. She couldn’t stand this silent tension between her and Matt. It terrified her.
Not bothering to drive over, Margaret saddled Midnight, a favorite gelding, gaining purpose as she rode, her face to the wind, her shoulders hunched. The cold stung her eyes, and her lips were badly chapped, but she hardly noticed. She’d entered this marriage convinced that her love for Matt was the only thing that mattered. As long as he was her husband, she’d believed she could accept whatever happened. Naturally she’d hoped that one day he’d love her, too.
When they were first married, everything had gone so well, but lately—in the past couple of weeks—she felt she’d failed both Matt and herself. The worst of it was not knowing what she’d done or why Matt had closed her out. Outwardly he behaved as if their lives were the same as always, which made it difficult for Margaret to broach the subject.
“Hi, Margaret!” Maddy called out from just inside the kitchen. She’d scooped Julianne into her arms, and the child gurgled happily in greeting.
“I shouldn’t have come unannounced.” Margaret felt a bit awkward now that she was here. “I…I could come back later.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m dying for company and Jeb’s out with the bison.” She steered Margaret toward the kitchen table and buckled Julianne into her high chair.
Margaret should be with her own herd. Matt was probably wondering where she’d vanished, and why. Not wanting him to worry, she’d told Sadie where she was, asking her to pass the message on. Margaret didn’t think she could face Matt herself. Not right now.
“How about tea?” Maddy asked, already filling the kettle and setting it on the burner.
“Sure,” Margaret answered.
“I baked cookies this morning. We’ll indulge in those, too,” Maddy said as she brought down two cups and saucers from the high cupboard.
“That’d be nice,” Margaret said politely. Some emotion must have echoed in her voice because Maddy abruptly turned around.
“I take it this isn’t a social call?”
Margaret shrugged.
“What’s wrong?” Being the good friend she was, Maddy abandoned her task and moved to Margaret’s side, taking the chair across from her. She clasped Margaret’s hands in her own.
“If I knew what was wrong, I wouldn’t be here,” she snapped, and instantly regretted her outburst. “Maddy…something’s not right between Matt and me, and I don’t know what it is.”
Maddy stared at her in silence for a moment, eyes narrowing at the pain and confusion Margaret didn’t bother to hide.
The kettle started to whistle, and Maddy quickly rose and tended to it. She let the tea steep, then poured it and brought the cups to the table. Margaret said nothing all this time, sunk in her own misery. Maddy slowly stirred in a heaping teaspoon of sugar, still frowning.
“I’m positive Matt’s keeping something from me. At first I thought it had to do with a woman, but now I’m not sure,” Margaret finally said. “I’ve asked him what’s wrong, and he just tells me I’m imagining things.”
“You aren’t.”
“I know I’m not,” she muttered.
“Trust your instincts,” Maddy said. “But what could he be holding back? Do you have any idea?”
“The only thing I can think of…” She hesitated, afraid to even say the words aloud. “There might be another woman.”
Maddy’s eyes widened. “You mentioned something about a woman.”
Margaret nodded. “She was phoning the house for a while.”
“No longer?”
Margaret shook her head, then quickly