Once he closed the door softly, Nash stepped to Maxey’s door and listened. For somebody who was supposed to be packing, she certainly wasn’t making any noise.
“Maxey? Are you almost ready?”
From the other side of the door, she growled. He smiled, loving her feisty mood.
“No, I’m not ready. It’s only been about five minutes.”
“You are so quiet in there. I wondered if you were done.”
“I know you’ll be disappointed to hear this, but I don’t make a lot of noise when I’m dressing.”
He chuckled. “Do you need any help?”
“No. I have been doing just fine for several years, thank you.”
He ran his finger alongside the doorframe. “Maxey?”
“What is it now?”
He steadied his voice to a serious tone. “How long ago did your father die?”
Again, silence stretched on the other side of the door, but he waited patiently for her answer, hoping it didn’t upset her too much to talk about it.
“Two years,” came the faint reply.
“I am sorry. How did he die?”
“He contracted some lung ailment, which slowly ate away at his body.”
“Where is your mother?”
Silence stretched again, but Nash waited.
“She ran out on the family and left with another man when I turned ten. I haven’t seen her since.”
Sadness tightened his chest. He had never known such a thing. But then, he was raised differently. To have a mother leave the family was probably the worst thing a child could experience.
He flattened his hand on the door, mentally reaching out to her for comfort. “My apologies. I did not realize.”
“Of course you didn’t. Nobody did. I mean, mothers aren’t supposed to leave their families and seek a new life with other men, are they? She took away my childhood and made me wait on a sickly father and lazy brother.”
“Oh, Maxey…”
“Do not pity me, Nash.” Her voice turned harsh. “The situation shaped me into who I am today.”
“Indeed, you are very independent.”
“I certainly am.”
“I will not speak of the matter again.” He pulled away from the door, returned to the front room, and sat on the sofa.
Maxey was such a strong woman. It explained why she was so stubborn and spoke her mind. He smiled. He wouldn’t have her any other way.
On the small table next to him sat a framed mini-portrait of an older man. It must be her father. Same smile, same oval-shaped face, and identical eyes. The man’s smile warmed Nash’s heart.
Strange to think their lives were similar. She grew up without a mother, and he was shunned by his father. His mother and Uncle Matthew’s housekeeper had raised him.
Mrs. Jackson!Excited, he bolted off the chair. He had forgotten about her. Even though he hadn’t lived with his uncle for very long, Mrs. Jackson was the one responsible for keeping him fed. Mrs. Jackson would know where Uncle Matthew had hidden the ring. The old woman would be an enormous help in fighting the many lies his uncle had spread. Of course, Nash would have to do some serious searching to find her, because after he left to join the military, they lost touch. Trying to find her might delay going to his uncle’s estate, but it was worth the chance. Mrs. Jackson had family in Devonshire, so he was certain she was still around.
