The Girl Who Came Back

“I’m here safe and sound,” she said when she got through to him.

“And how is Mattie?”

“Maddie. She’s still in a coma. She may not come out of it, or she could recover with no harmful side effects. The doctor wasn’t sure. I’d think they’d know more than that.” She felt frustrated at the lack of a definitive prognosis.

“If she’s in a coma, she doesn’t know you’re there,” Stephen said.

“No. But the doctor said maybe a familiar voice would help her wake up. I talked with her the entire time I was allowed in to see her. Now I have to wait another hour or two before I can visit again. Stupid rules,” she added in frustration.

“I’m sure the hospital has rules for a purpose.”

“I don’t want to be logical,” Eliza said. “I’m frustrated, cranky and scared.”

“Honey, you said she was in her sixties. It may be her time to go.”

“Gee, you’re a world of support. Sixty is not that old!” She shouldn’t blame Stephen for his pragmatic view. In other circumstances, she’d probably agree with him. But with Maddie, she didn’t want pragmatism; she wanted hope.

“What do you want me to do, paint a pretty picture that has no relation to reality?” he asked gently.

“No.” Stephen was much too realistic for that. He was an attorney; he dealt in facts.

“I just hate the thought of her dying. I should have done more over the years. I owe her a lot.”

“She was paid by the state to take care of you,” he reasoned.

“But she did a lot more than just feed me and give me a warm bed. I guess it’s too much to expect you to appreciate that.” As soon as the words were out, Eliza regretted them.

“I think you’d better wait and call me once you’ve had a good night’s sleep.” Stephen hung up.

Eliza clicked off the phone. She wished she could tell him being cranky didn’t have anything to do with lack of sleep. She feared things were spinning out of control and she hated that.

She bit into her bagel. She needed all the energy she could get to make it through the next few hours.

If there was no change in Maddie’s condition by night, she’d have to check into a motel to get some sleep, or collapse in sheer exhaustion. Worry took as great a toll as hard work.

She fervently hoped Maddie would regain consciousness soon. It had been less than twenty-four hours since she’d learned of Maddie’s stroke and she was already going crazy. How did people stand it when loved ones remained in a coma for weeks on end?

Eliza sipped her latte, her eye caught by a tall man in uniform, hat held in hand, striding into the cafeteria. He looked to be in his early thirties, dark hair and dark eyes. His gait was long and firm and he was heading toward her table.

Eliza’s instincts went on full alert. Was he coming to talk to her?

He stopped at the end of the table. “Sheriff Samuel Witt. Are you Eliza Shaw?”

“Yes.” She gestured to the chair opposite and the sheriff sat down, placing his hat on the seat next to him. He was nothing like the sheriff who had held office when she lived in Maraville.

“The nurse upstairs told me you might be here. I’m the person who responded to the call and got Maddie to the hospital.”

“I’m one of the foster children she raised. I just read about her condition last night in the paper and got here as soon as I could.”

“Do you live nearby?” he asked.

“Boston.”

“You get the Maraville Bugle in Boston?” His incredulous look was almost amusing.

She nodded. “A bit of home.” She felt foolish once she said it. Stephen had laughed at her sentimentality. How must it seem to a tough cop?

“Who found her?” she asked, realizing she knew no details beyond the bare facts reported in the paper.

“Henry Vetter had an appointment with her that afternoon. He waited for a while after knocking on the back door. Her car was in the driveway. When she didn’t answer, he tried the knob. Found it unlocked and Maddie at the bottom of the cellar stairs. We don’t know how long it was between the time she fell and the time she was discovered. It could have been several minutes or several hours. The doctors suspect it hadn’t been too long, however. The emergency medical team diagnosed a stroke and took appropriate action.”

“Who’s Henry Vetter?”

“Hank’s a handyman around town. Maddie wanted him to do some cleanup in the yard.”

“Hank? Tall and painfully thin? No hair?” Eliza remembered the man. He’d had a crush on Maddie way back when, though Maddie had done nothing to encourage him. Eliza remembered the jokes she and the other girls had shared at the thought of Maddie having him as a boyfriend.

“One and the same,” Sam confirmed. “You know him?”

“He used to come around and help out when I lived at the house on Poppin Hill. I thought he was ancient back then, I can’t believe he’s still working.”

“Hank’s about sixty-six now,” Sam said. “But he looks older. Probably looked ancient to a teenager.”

“I guess.”

“I’m surprised you came,” Sam said.

“Why?”

“I’ve only been in town for a couple of years, but even I’ve heard about the situation that got you pulled from the foster home. I wouldn’t think there’d be much love lost between you girls and Maddie.”

“Maddie never hurt any of us. Jo blamed her at first, but later when she tried to explain and tell the truth, no one would listen.”

And the accusations Cade and his mother had made about Eliza hadn’t helped the situation, either.

“Seems Sheriff Halstead thought he had enough evidence to get you girls removed from the home,” Sam said.

“Jo’s accusation never even got as far as an arrest.” Eliza hadn’t found that out until she’d made contact with Maddie a couple of years ago. “The fallout resulted in the three of us girls being yanked from the only home we knew and separated from each other. Maddie never did anything but take good care of us.”

“Going out to see the house?” he asked, ignoring her passionate conviction.

“I may.” She wondered if she really wanted to see the old place. There were so many memories. Would stirring them up do any good or only open old wounds?

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON by the time Eliza turned onto the once-familiar white crushed-shell driveway at the house on Poppin Hill. Visiting the place had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Once it was made, it hadn’t taken her long to drive from the motel where she’d checked in. Every mile had been crowded with memories.

Driving down Main Street, she’d seen the courthouse where she and April had been taken for questioning the morning after Jo had spun her outlandish story. And where Sheriff Halstead had interrogated her about Cade’s sister, Chelsea Bennett, only hours later.