Maggie
It was shaping up to be a gorgeous spring, the warmth a welcome change from the frigid winter that had seemed to stretch on forever. Maggie had taken to basking in the sun, sitting on the window seat that overlooked the street. She was quieter than normal, seeming to sink into herself since she'd come back to Boston. Everyone was worried about her.
"I just wish she would cheer up," Eden murmured to Henry as they sat watching Maggie from across the room. "It's been 3 months now! I've hardly seen her smile. You know Max and I would love for you two to get back together." She sighed. "Well, Mr. Bell is supposed to be coming for a visit soon. Maybe he can cheer her up."
Mr. Bell arrived later that week, and he had a plan. "Oh, Bell, do you really want to go?" Maggie cried when he told her of his idea. It was the first real smile any of them had seen in months.
"Of course. I was just sitting on the plane, wondering what we can do to entertain ourselves. The weather is so lovely, I thought it would be a perfect time to visit Helstone. Does that sound good?" Mr. Bell smiled at his goddaughter, relishing in the happiness he saw in her face.
Clapping her hands together, Maggie beamed. "When can we go? Tomorrow?" She seemed absolutely thrilled; Henry looked on, jealous that he couldn't make her smile like that.
They drove out to the countryside the next day, windows down and warm air blowing in the trees. The flowers were blooming everywhere, painting the soft hills with vibrant colors. They passed through the small town nearest Maggie's childhood home, pulling memories up with every sight they went by. Finally, they pulled up to Maggie's old house.
The new owners had made a few major changes. The extensive garden, so lovingly tended by the Hale's early in their marriage, was gone, replaced with open fields. Even so, Maggie could imagine her parents sitting on the porch as the loved to do in the spring, listening to the birds and enjoying the warmth after a long winter. She could almost hear her mother's laughter, watching her children play in the garden.
Instead of her parents, she saw strangers come out on the porch as Maggie and Mr. Bell approached the house. The homeowners smiled as Mr. Bell explained why there were there, welcoming them to come and sit, and offering them refreshments.
"We had to make some improvements," the wife, Mrs. Lewis, said as they sat drinking lemonade. "Well, alterations, I mean. We have seven children."
Maggie's eyebrows shot up at that. "Oh yes, of course," she said. "It's just a shame that the roses are gone."
If Mrs. Lewis caught the sadness in her voice, she chose to ignore it. "Well, the children must have a place to play. Fresh air is good for the mind and the soul, brings you closer to God."
"Ah yes, so much better than all that book learning," Mr. Bell smirked.
The sarcasm passed over the homeowners' heads. "Exactly. That's why we homeschool the children. Everyone needs to get back to the simple things in life. Forget about all the unimportant things, intellectualism, liberal arts type education.," Mr. Lewis said, sitting forward.
Narrowing her eyes, Maggie frowned. "You mean art and music. Like my father taught."
"Oh, no!" Mr. Lewis turned a bit red at her words. "I mean, yes, in a way. We try to keep things simple."
"Stifled? Uneducated? Unimaginative?" Maggie shot back. "Is that what you want for your children? I'm sure the world would be a better place without all the creativity."
Mr. Lewis looked shocked, apparently not used to his thought and opinions being challenged in such a manner. "Remember, dear," Mrs. Lewis said, trying to smooth her husband's feathers. "Maggie has been in the south for some time. Things are a bit more, well, wild down there."
There was an awkward silence while Mr. Bell struggled to contain his laughter. He reached out to Maggie, suggesting they needed to be going. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were all too happy to see them go.
Bell
Walking down the streets of the small town, Mr. Bell couldn't help but laugh again. "What's so funny?" Maggie said, still a bit sour from their encounter at her childhood home.
"I was imagining what Mrs. Thornton would think about being called 'wild'," he said, grinning.
Maggie burst out laughing, all the awkwardness of the day coming to a head. "Lord, I nearly lost my temper there," she said.
He was glad to hear her laugh. "I'm afraid this trip hasn't turned out the way I planned," he apologized.
"You know," Maggie said, "when I first got to Atlanta, I was guilty of romanticizing the North. And now that I'm back, I'm struggling to not do the opposite." She smiled sadly.
Hating to see her looking so glum, Mr. Bell tried to lighten the mood. "Come on, now, we can't have that. Mrs. Thornton being wild is bad enough, but romantic? Never! What would she think?"
They stopped, sitting down on a bench in the sun. Maggie didn't respond right away, looking off into the distance. "Mr. Bell," she blurted, "when mom was dying, Finn came to see us." That was news to Bell, but he said nothing, sensing she had more to say. "It was all very secretive, you know. He left before the funeral. I went with him to the Greyhound station, the one downtown, in the middle of the night. We were seen… by John Thornton."
Mr. Bell was quiet for a moment, trying to work out why exactly she was telling him this. "Ah, I see," he said, thinking he understood. "Thornton saw you with a strange man in the middle of the night, in that part of town." It certainly wasn't the best circumstance to be caught in.
"No, wait. That's not even the worst part," Maggie sighed. "There was another man there. He came up to Finn, said he knew him. He fell and died later, but that was the last time he was seen alive." She paused, closing her eyes as if reliving the moment. "Someone else saw us and, well, I lied to the police."
Sitting back, Mr. Bell crossed his arms, thinking. "Well, I'm not sure I see the problem here. Finn didn't kill the man, did he?"
Maggie turned quickly to face him, concern written all over her face. "Of course not!" she cried, frustrated that he would even say that. "But I lied. I was worried about Finn; he was still in the country. So, I lied and… John knows. He knows I lied to the police."
"Is Finn safe, now?" Mr. Bell asked, finally getting some idea why she was so upset. Her last statement was very telling on that front.
She nodded. "Yes, he's even married now, settled down in Mexico." She sighed again. "Sometimes I worry that I'll never get to see him again."
Mr. Bell studied her carefully. "But that's not why you're upset," he said. It wasn't a question.
"No, it's just, well." She shook her head in frustration, struggling to put her feelings into words. "I just hate to think…" she trailed off, blushing. "I hate to think that John might think badly of me."
"Are you sure that's all?" Mr. Bell asked gently, sure that there was something more to it.
Sighing, Maggie turned away and shook her head. "I thought for sure it would be such a nice day," she said sadly.
She looked so forlorn that it was almost heartbreaking. Mr. Bell reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Look. Maybe I could have a chat with Thornton, try to clear things up. Though I'm not sure he has too high of an opinion of me, either, at the moment."
"No, don't. I don't want him to know about Finn," she said, looking almost like she might cry. "What would he think, once he found out everything that happened with Finn and the army?" She shook her head firmly at the thought. "Though, sometimes I wish he knew. But please, don't say anything." She stood up and walked a few steps. "Ugh, I don't even know what I want," she said, smiling sheepishly.
Mr. Bell smiled back at his goddaughter. "All right then, let's talk about other things," he said. He knew what other things needed to be discussed, though he was dreading the conversation. There was no time like the present, he thought, figuring he might as well get it over with.
Maggie
It felt good to tell someone else about her worries, though Mr. Bell wasn't much help in the end. She missed being able to talk to her parents and Becca about things. Eden was so busy with her own life and wasn't the most understanding person, regardless. Maybe she should let Mr. Bell talk to John, just get things out in the open. As soon as she considered the notion, she pushed it away, knowing that it would do more harm than good.
"You know, Maggie," Mr. Bell was saying, "I thought, after your father died, that I would look after you."
She looked over at him fondly. "You have. You are."
She didn't like the looks of the grave expression on her godfather's face. "No, I don't think you quite understand. I had kind of hoped you would look after me as well." He was looking off into the distance, not meeting her confused gaze. "I never really thought about finding a wife and getting married. Too busy with academics and all that."
Maggie shifted uncomfortably, not sure she wanted to him continue with the thought. "Anyway, enough of all that, it doesn't matter now," Mr. Bell said, clapping his hands as if he had never mentioned it. "I promised your father that I would take care of you. Now, I've always thought it would be incredibly depressing to leave everything to people who were just sitting around and waiting for me to kick the bucket. So, instead, I intend to sign the majority of my assets and property over to you now."
It wasn't what she was expecting to hear, catching her so off guard that it took a moment to sink in what he was saying. "No, you can't. I won't take it!" She cried indignantly, jumping up.
"Yes, you will," he said kindly. "I'm going back to South America, where I plan to live out the rest of my days peacefully, knowing you are putting my money to good use." He stood up, too, and they started to walk.
Shaking her head, Maggie frowned. "Well, I can't. What about you, what will you do?"
Mr. Bell took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he had to say. "Well, you see, there's something I've been trying to ignore. I didn't just come to Boston to see you, dear. I also went to see my doctor."
Maggie stopped and grabbed his arm, looking at him with worried eyes. "Come on, now, Maggie," he said, pulling her into a quick hug. "You can just imagine me underneath the Argentine skies, living my best life. Most men don't have the chance to plan their exit in such a leisurely way. Now, let's cheer up. If we leave now, we can be back in Boston in time for dinner. I don't know about you, but I could use some good food after a day like today." He offered her his arm jovially with a carefree smile.
John
He wasn't expecting a visit from Mr. Bell and found it hard to muster up a strong face for his unwelcome guest. Bell himself seemed more subdued than usual, telling John about his plans to travel to South America and retire. He stopped by to make sure everything was in order before he left. "So, it seems like all my affairs are pretty much settled," the older man said with finality, handing some papers over to John.
There was something in his tone that made John look up and examine him more closely. "When do you leave?" he asked, suddenly suspicious.
"Next week. It will be nice to have a chance to relax again. I spent a lot of my childhood there, you know." The wistfulness in his voice worried John, as did the paperwork he held in his hand.
John shook his head, reading the papers over again, more thoroughly this time. "You'll notice that I've signed all of my assets over to my goddaughter, Maggie," Mr. Bell said, seeing his confusion. "I don't have any other family, and Richard was my oldest friend."
A thousand thoughts raced through John's mind at this revelation. He latched on to one like a lifeline. "But what about South America? Won't you need money to live down there?"
The grim smile on Mr. Bell's face spoke volumes. "Oh, I have plenty to support my life down there. What's left of it, at least." The words hit John in the gut, another person in his life being ripped away.
"I'm sorry," he said. It was the only thing he could think to say.
Mr. Bell smiled again, more warmly this time. "Don't be. I'm glad to be able to settle my own affairs. Most people don't have that luxury. It will be a comfort to know that Maggie is settled and secure after everything she's been through." He paused for a moment, considering what he was about to say. "By the way, Maggie probably won't bother you or interfere too much. She is landlord only in name."
Staring at the papers in his hands, John could feel Mr. Bell watching for his reaction. "Even if Maggie wanted to interfere, she has a poor enough opinion of me to do so. Anyway, I'm afraid there might not be much left to interfere with at this rate." He sighed and handed the papers back to Mr. Bell.
"Ah, well. I'm sorry about all that," Mr. Bell said awkwardly. "I'm afraid there's not much more I can do. I've left business behind me." He stood, preparing to leave. "I leave on Wednesday."
John dropped his face to his hands, exhausted by the conversation and bombarded by worries. He didn't see Mr. Bell reach out to him. Shrugging, Mr. Bell turned and walked to the door. He paused, watching the younger man with some warmth in his heart. He always had a soft spot for the boy, had put a lot of faith in him over the years. "You might be mistaken, John, if you think that Maggie has such a poor opinion of you," he said finally, after much deliberation. He knew Maggie didn't want him to stick his nose in her business, but he couldn't leave the two suffering in misery over a misunderstanding.
At the sound of Maggie's name, John tensed and stood up, pacing to the other side of the office. It was torture; he wanted Mr. Bell to leave him to his own thoughts. The anxious energy made him feel like a caged animal.
"And maybe you shouldn't judge her as harshly as you have," Mr. Bell decided to continue, thinking he could straighten this whole mess out right then and there, one last gift to his goddaughter. "In fact—"
"No," John interrupted, back straight and still as a statue. "As you've already said, Mr. Bell, your business here is finished. Now The Mill's future or mine is none of your concern. I'm afraid I am busy, too, and need to return to my work." He didn't turn around to see what reaction Mr. Bell had to his harsh words. There was silence for a moment before he heard Bell quietly turn and leave without further comment.
As soon as he was sure the older man was gone, John crumpled to the floor, wracked with guilt at his final words to a dying man who had been nothing but good to him all those years. He wanted to cry for the loss, but no tears would come. Instead, he just felt cold, numb from the repeated blows that life had dealt. After a moment, he picked himself up and got back to work.
He worked himself to exhaustion, falling asleep in his office as had become his custom. Mrs. Thornton worried about him endlessly every night he didn't come home. It seemed she had hardly seen him in weeks, and when she did see him, he didn't speak much. Sometimes he would call and say he would be staying late at the office. It was the nights he didn't call that worried her most. She was putting dinner away, another one spent alone when she decided to take some to John at his office.
Putting some leftovers in a container, she drove the short distance to The Mill, noting the lights shining in the office window. The door was unlocked; that was unlike John, he usually locked up after business hours were over. Quietly, she made her way to his office and peeked through the doorway. She could hear the snores from across the room; John was sprawled across his desk, dead asleep face down on his paperwork. His mother smiled sadly at the sight. Who knew how long he had been like that? The poor boy was exhausted, mentally and physically.
Mrs. Thornton wondered for a moment if she should wake him up and make him come home, but knew that if she tried, he would just say he had more work to do. So, instead, she sat his dinner on the desk and grabbed a throw from one of the armchairs, laying it over John's shoulders and tucking it around him. He didn't stir, sleeping more peacefully than he had in weeks. She patted his head lovingly, thinking how proud she was of her son. Then she left as quietly as she had come, locking the door behind her.