P. Parrish - Heart of Ice

“We’ll know by tomorrow,” Louis said.

Maisey nodded and started toward the kitchen. But she stopped and came back to Louis.

“Thank you, Mr. Kincaid,” she said.

She held out her hand but then instead drew him into a tight hug.

It was midmorning but the house was as dark as if it were dusk. The Canadian front that had been threatening for two days was making its way onto the island, bringing an ice storm that had brought down electrical wires and left a hard glaze on the trees that sent them groaning and clicking with each shift of the wind.

Maisey pulled her bathrobe tighter and headed to the fireplace. All the logs from last night were burned down to ashes, and there was no more wood in the basket. Julie and Cooper had used it up last night, sitting down here wrapped in quilts and talking to God knows what hour.

Maisey had slipped away around nine to give them some privacy. For a long time, though, she had lain upstairs with her door ajar, knowing it was wrong to eavesdrop but wanting to make sure Cooper said or did nothing to upset Julie. But all she heard was murmuring voices and eventually she had fallen asleep. This morning she had found his pillow and blankets folded neatly on the sofa in the parlor.

“Still no power, Miss Maisey?”

Maisey turned to see Cooper standing in the foyer. It was so cold in the house he was wearing his parka. Julie was still sleeping, she knew. There hadn’t been a sound from her room.

“No, the ice storm took the lines down,” she said. “The phone’s still working. I called the electrical people this morning, and they said they’re working on getting the power back.”

Cooper nodded. “Maybe I better go get some more wood, then,” he said.

“Yes, that would be good,” Maisey said.

Cooper disappeared, and a moment later Maisey heard the back door bang closed. She looked back to the pile of blankets and quilts on the sofa, wondering what it must feel like to be them-to be Julie and Cooper-and see each other again after all these years, after all the lies and assumptions.

With that thought came a rush of regret that she had never told Mr. Edward that she suspected that Julie was alive. Maybe she should have, but she had no real proof. And even if she had found out for sure, and no matter how much she loved Mr. Edward, her first loyalty had always been to Julie. And if that was wrong, then let God be her judge.

“Here you go, Miss Maisey.”

Cooper came in, carrying a bulging canvas tote in each hand. He set them by the fireplace. “It’s getting pretty ugly out there now,” he said. “I should probably get going down to town and see if the ferry-”

“Nonsense,” Maisey said. “There isn’t going to be a ferry today or probably tomorrow. You’ll just have to stay here until they start running again.”

Cooper gave her an awkward smile. “Thank you,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Maisey nodded. “But if you want to help you can run down to Doud’s and get us some food,” she said. “I wasn’t planning on company, and the cupboards are pretty bare. You’d better get some more candles and batteries, too, just in case.”

“Not a problem,” Cooper said. He pulled his gloves and red wool cap from his pocket and started toward the door. “Anything else you need?”

“Try to find a bottle of Harveys Bristol Cream. Someone drank all mine yesterday.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Cooper left in a swirl of snow, and when the door closed the house was quiet again. Maisey heaped some logs on the grate, lit a fire, and started to the kitchen.

As she passed through the foyer, she heard the clump of footsteps on the porch. A shadow appeared behind the beveled glass. Cooper probably forgot his wallet and had come back to get money, she thought. She should’ve offered some.

She reached for the door but it burst open, almost knocking her over. Ross stood in the doorway. Snow caked his hair and the shoulders of his dark overcoat, and he was looking around the foyer like a rabid animal. His eyes stopped on Maisey.

“Where is she?”

Maisey stepped toward him. “Get out of my house.”

“ Your house, ” Ross said. “A house you whored your way into. Where’s my sister?”

Maisey wanted to smack him. “Who told you she was here?”

“I’m a fucking senator, and I am her brother,” Ross said. “The DA’s office called me. Now, where the hell is she?”

“She doesn’t want to see you!”

Ross shoved Maisey aside and walked quickly to the parlor. Seeing no one, he spun back and headed to the kitchen. Maisey hurried after him.

“Get out!” she shouted. “Get out or I’ll call the police.”

Ross stopped, his eyes pinballing around the kitchen. He started back toward the foyer.

God, no. He was going upstairs!

Maisey grabbed a knife off the counter and ran after him. “Get out of here or I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

Ross spun, saw the knife, and smacked it from her hand. It skittered into a corner by the door.

Ross headed toward the stairs. Maisey launched herself at his back. He slipped on the wet floor but then caught his balance on the stair post and knocked her away.

She saw the blur of his fist, then felt the slam of blinding white pain in her jaw. She stumbled backward onto some cardboard boxes, hitting her hip hard as she fell to the floor. The taste of blood was thick on her tongue. Ross was coming toward her again. She cringed, bracing for another blow.

“Get away from her!”

Maisey opened her eyes. Ross’s dark coat came into focus and then, beyond him, Julie standing on the stairs. Maisey tried to talk, tried to tell Julie to run, but she couldn’t move her mouth.

Julie came slowly down the stairs. Her eyes riveted on Ross, she edged past him and knelt next to Maisey.

“You’re bleeding,” Julie said.

“Go,” Maisey whispered. “Get. . help.”

“I’m not leaving you with him.”

“I’ll be-”

Suddenly Julie let out a yelp as Ross jerked her to her feet. Maisey’s heart was hammering. She spotted the knife near the coatrack, but she couldn’t move. Something was wrong with her hip. Maybe if she could talk to him, maybe she could reason with him like she used to do when he was a boy.

But she knew he wouldn’t listen. He was staring at Julie. His face was slack with astonishment, as if he were looking at a ghost. There was something else there in his eyes, something that made Maisey’s stomach turn-desire.

“Julie,” Ross whispered.

Julie took a step back.

“Julie,” Ross said again. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

He held out his hands.

“Stay away from me!”

He blinked and for a moment seemed completely confused. “How can you say that to me?”

“I said it a million times before but you never heard me!”

“Julie, listen to me,” Ross said. “You don’t have to do this anymore. They’re all gone. It’s just us now.”

Julie put her hands over her face. Maisey tried to use the boxes to pull herself into a sitting position. Ross’s eyes flitted to her, and for one second she could see something of the boy there, the needy boy who nobody needed. But then it was gone and there was just madness.

Ross started toward Julie. She backed away, frantically looking for an escape, but she was cornered by the door.

He touched the sleeve of her sweater, and she recoiled. He reached up to stroke her hair.

“Don’t touch me,” she said.

Maisey closed her eyes at the pain in Julie’s voice.

“Julie, you know that you-”

“I said don’t touch me!” she screamed.

Maisey’s eyes shot open at the sound of a slap. Ross was glaring at Julie, hand to his cheek. Then he turned slowly, as if looking for something. He pulled Maisey’s green plaid coat off the coatrack and held it out to Julie.