by Clay, Verna
* * *
Abigail smiled as she watched Jenny twirl in the dress she'd altered to fit her by loosening the seams and sewing on a ruffle at the bottom. The girl needed new dresses and already Abigail was planning on using the remainder of the fabric from the dress she'd used for the ruffle to make another dress for her. She even had some dresses with fabric suitable for sewing shirts for males. She may not be much of a cook, but she could sew very well. She wondered if Brant had money for more cloth. It would be fun helping the children make selections for new clothing.
"You're gonna be the prettiest girl at the party," said Brant. He looked at Abigail and mouthed, "Thank you."
She felt her ever ready blush suffuse her face and turned to Ty to straighten the shirt she'd sewn from one of her cotton slips. She'd wanted to make something for Luke, but he'd ignored her hints. Even now, he sat sulkily at the table reading his novel, but she'd seen him glance up more than once.
"Everyone ready?" asked Brant.
Shouts of "Yes, yes," came from Jenny and "Yeth, yeth," from Ty.
Abigail joined the gaiety, "Yes!"
Brant held the door open and Abigail appraised him from lowered lashes. My, but he was a handsome man, and so young looking. She really needed to ask him how old he was without embarrassing herself.
"Doesn't Miz Abby look pretty?" Jenny said as Abigail walked past him.
He looked down and met Abigail's eyes. Ty, holding her hand, reached to hug her legs, which made her pause. "Pretty Mama." To cover the awkward moment, she reached and lifted the toddler into her arms.
Brant said softly, "Very pretty."
Abigail hastened to the buckboard.
Luke hopped onto the back of the wagon and Brant lifted Jenny beside him before reaching to take Ty from Abigail's arms and hand him over to his daughter. Abigail's heart pounded when he encircled her waist with his strong hands and lifted her onto the front bench as if she were as light as a feather. She'd lost weight since beginning her trek west, but she was still a far cry from being a tiny woman. Images of petite and beautiful Lola popped into her mind and she pushed them aside. Obviously, Brant had not wanted to marry her. A smug smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
Brant jumped onto the buckboard and laughed, "Now, Miz Abby, what's that smile about?"
Mortified, Abigail placed her hand over her mouth, but couldn't make the smile go away. Looking at him with laughing eyes, she said, "Something I can't share."
He laughed and flicked the reins, sending everyone into a backward sway.
Abigail grabbed the edge of her seat and asked, "How far are we going?"
"The MacGregors are three miles west."
Wally followed alongside their buckboard for about a half mile until Brant told him to go back home. With his tail between his legs, he watched them roll on. Abigail turned to look at him.
Brant laughed. "He's quite the actor. See how he's already got you feeling sorry for him."
Abigail giggled. "I always wanted a dog growing up, but my parents refused to let me have one. Wally's already found his way into my heart." Immediately, she regretted her heartfelt words. She didn't know Brant well enough to expose her inner thoughts.
He didn't reply and she was glad.
Abigail's hip bumped the container of cookies on the seat between them. She and Jenny had made them the day before. Thankfully, they were chewable, although not as tasty as she had hoped. She really wished she'd paid more attention to Mrs. Puffins' culinary skill back in Philadelphia. Next time she was in Two Rivers, she intended to buy a cookbook at the general store.
Although it was still morning, the weather was already turning muggy. Abigail lifted her head to the sky, its blueness sending happiness into her heart. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she opened them, Brant was staring at her. Her curiosity got the better of her and she asked bluntly, "How old are you?"
He turned to look ahead. "Thirty-two."
She gasped and looked away from his profile. She was six years older. "You…you married very young."
"We were both seventeen. Does my age bother you?"
She looked back at him. "A little. I'm thirty-eight."
He pulled the reins to adjust the horses' path. "Well, Miz Abby, your age doesn't bother me in the least."
Abigail bit the inside of her cheek and watched the passing countryside.
* * *
Brant chuckled at the startled look on prim and proper Miz Abby's face when he told her his age. Hell, what difference did six years make. Obviously, it made a difference to her.
The rest of the way, they made small talk and he pointed out places of interest in the countryside. "Those hills are called the Little Siblings and beyond those trees is Moccasin River, one of the two that crosses paths just outside the town of Two Rivers. The other cuts through the north of my property and its called Hawk River."
He crested a hill above a cabin similar to his own and pulled the reins. "Whoa horses!" Pausing their trek, he turned to smile at Abby. "That's the MacGregor place."
For the moment, she seemed to have forgotten her shock over their age difference and smiled at the happy scene. Other neighbors had already arrived and men, young and old, were hammering out the frame of a barn. Young women scurried after children and elderly ones sat in chairs on the porch or under trees. Older children chased each other in a game of tag. Picnic tables had been placed under the shade of tall oaks. Long tablecloths flapped in the breeze.
Brant flicked the reins and started down the hill. He pulled his buckboard beside the others and jumped down. Walking around the wagon he helped Abby down first. Next he lifted Ty from Jenny's arms and handed him to Abby. Then he scooped his daughter up and swung her around until she squealed. Luke jumped down and Brant said, "Wait up, son."
A middle-aged woman approached. "Welcome Brant. We're real happy your family could make it." She glanced curiously at Abby.
"Hello Cora, we wouldn't have missed it. Mick helped me raise my barn and I wanted to return the favor after I heard yours burned down." He grinned mischievously, "Actually, I came for the food."
Cora laughed, "Well, there's plenty of that."
"We made cookies!" Jenny said proudly.
"That was mighty thoughtful, Jenny. I'll put them on the dessert table."
Brant reached for the container and handed it to Cora and then said, "Cora, I'd like you to meet Miz Abigail Vaughn."
Cora held out her hand. "Pleasure meetin' ya, Miz Vaughn."
Abby held Ty in one arm and stretched her other one out to Cora's handshake. "Please call me Abigail…or Abby," she replied.
Brant said, "Luke, help me unhitch the horses and move them to the corral."
* * *
While the men tended the horses, Cora smiled at Abigail. "You come with me and I'll introduce you around." She looked at Jenny. "My goodness, Jenny, what a pretty dress!"
"Miz Abby fixed it up for me," she beamed, and turned in a circle. Laughter caught her attention and she looked past Cora to children playing tag. "Miz Abby, can I go play?"
"Honey, you go play to your heart's delight."
Jenny started to run toward the children, paused, and turned back to Abigail. "I'll come back and help you with Ty in a little bit."
Abigail shook her head. "No, you just play and have fun. Ty and I will be fine." She glanced at Cora to see an approving look.
Cora grasped her elbow. "Com'on and meet some folks." A wonderful lightheartedness entered Abigail's heart. She felt connected to Cora and these hardworking country people. She almost felt like she belonged there.
Her hostess led her to a group of elderly women sitting on chairs and benches beneath the tallest oak. "Howdy, ladies. I'd like ya'll to meet Miz Abigail Vaughn. She's a friend of Brant Samson. Abby, this is Miz Mina Priestly, Miz Vera Simpson, Miz Kathryn Nantucket, and Miz Sadie Thomas. And, of course, ladies, you know Ty Samson."
The baby clutched Abigail's neck and twisted to look at the food table.
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintances," said Abigail.
"So you're the mail order bride," said Mina Priestly. The way that baby's clingin' to ya, looks like Brant's done good in pickin' ya out. Why don't cha grab a seat next to me so's we can get to know each other."
The other women heartily agreed with Mina.
The wail of a child captured everyone's attention and Cora said, "That's my youngest. Better see why he's carryin' on so. 'Scuse me, ladies."
Abigail sat on the bench beside Mina and set a squirming Ty on the ground. She laughed, "I may only be able to stay a minute if he takes off running."
Vera said, "I understand. I raised ten youngins' meself. Didn’t get any rest 'til I was in my sixties."
"So when's the weddin'?" asked Mina.
Abigail bent over quickly to keep Ty from putting a stick in his mouth, grateful for the distraction. Still leaning over, she said, "Ah, I'm not sure."
One of the women clucked and Mina said, "No doubt it'll be soon. Brant's an upstanding young man and wouldn't do anything to tarnish your reputation."
Another buckboard rolled up near the corral and Sadie said, "It's the Pitts. Wonder why they came? They don't usually associate much with the other ranchers."
"Aw, come on Sadie," said Mina. "You know Lola's been tryin' ta hog tie Brant into marriage since she was sixteen. I imagine she's right miffed that he's gettin' his wife from a newspaper advertisement."
Abigail continued giving all her attention to Ty. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to participate in. Mina reached an arthritic hand to pat Abigail's knee. "You keep an eye on her, hear? She's as sneaky as the day is long. This is her last chance to snag Brant and she knows it."
Abigail nodded because she didn't know what else to do.
"Mina's right, lookey there." Sadie pointed.
Abigail glanced back at the Pitts to see Brant and Luke had left the corral and Brant was lifting Lola down from the wagon. When he set her on the ground, she stepped close to him and reached to touch his shoulder.
"See what I mean, Abigail," said Mina. "Maybe you should mosey on over there and lay claim to your man."
"Ah, ah…I-I…"
Kathryn said, "Mina, stop embarrassing the girl. She's an easterner and they don't do things the same out there."
"Oh piddle, a man's a man and a woman's a woman and a floozy's a floozy, no matter how you spell it out."
Abigail was saved further embarrassment when Ty took off running. "Excuse me, ladies. It was nice chatting with you."
Ty ran to the tables of food with billowing tablecloths. Giggling, he gave her a mischievous smile and crawled under the table, hiding behind the tablecloth. Abigail laughed at his impishness and went down on her hands and knees, peering underneath. He burst into peals of laughter when he saw her and started crawling away.
"Oh, no, you don't." Abigail grabbed his foot and tugged him toward her, which only made them both laugh all the more. Finally, she dragged him from under the table. Beside her, boots came into her line of sight. Looking up, she saw Brant's eyes dancing with merriment. He squatted beside her and Ty.
"Having a little trouble, Miz Vaughn?" he reached for Ty and lifted him onto his shoulders. The boy squealed with delight.
"I think I handled things fairly well, Mister Samson," she laughed, still on her knees.
Brant stood and stretched his arm to help her up. She grabbed his calloused palm and let him pull her to her feet, close to his body. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw Lola sending her a venomous stare, and Luke a hurt one. Stepping away from him, she smoothed her dress. "I think I'll go check on Jenny."
* * *
Brant watched Abby walk toward the group of children Jenny was playing with. The woman was as skittish as a colt. He smiled thinking about the sight of Abby on her knees chasing Ty. Unlike some women who would have chastised the baby, she'd laughed and played his game. Brant liked that. Yep, the more he was around Abby, the more he was beginning to think she would make a great ma for his children. If only he could get Luke to realize the same thing.
* * *
Abigail met more neighbors throughout the day and found that most treated her very well. Several came right out and asked personal questions which she danced around or suddenly found a diversion to excuse herself. After lunch, the men resumed raising the barn and the youngest children were put down for naps on blankets under trees. The older children were made to play quiet games.
Abigail sat on a blanket under the oaks with Ty asleep beside her. She leaned her head against the gnarled trunk. Around her, other women sat on blankets and she listened to gossip, upcoming church activities, and the best way to calm a colicky baby. She closed her eyes and envisioned what her life would be like in Philadelphia if she were still there. No doubt, she'd be creating school lessons, reading a novel or shuffling from room to room in her home. Viewing her circumstances with honesty, she asked herself if she would rather be there or here. The answer was obvious. She wanted to be here amidst these country folk and enjoying the sunshine, playing with children, and watching Brant wield a hammer. Lazily, she opened her eyes and searched him out. He was nailing boards on top of the barn. He'd rolled his sleeves up and unbuttoned his shirt to his navel. When he leaned back on his knees and removed his hat, swiping his face and neck with his bandana, she was again struck by his comeliness and felt desire unfurl in her stomach. I want to marry him.
When she considered her desire for this man, she knew his looks enticed her, but more than that, his kindness and love for his children drew her in. He seemed to feel her eyes watching him and turned his head in her direction. His gaze, even from a distance, made her heart flutter. Next to her, one of the young mothers said quietly, "Sure wish my man looked at me like that."
* * *
Brant washed up at the well. Enough of the barn was raised so that MacGregor could finish the details on his own. The cool water felt refreshing. Walking to his horse, he changed into the extra shirt he'd brought, and then returned to the house. Women bustled around the tables setting out supper and his stomach growled loudly. Around dusk, the musicians would fire up their fiddles and the hoedown would begin. Since Molly's death, he hadn't been sociable, and now he realized just how much he'd missed gatherings like this.
He went in search of Abby. She had Ty on one hip and was handing him a slice of bread with the other. She smiled at his baby and Brant got to see her beautiful teeth. He couldn't believe how much a smiled changed her face from plain to pretty. She looked up, still smiling, and his heart somersaulted.
"That food looks mighty good," he said, just to have something to say.
"You must be starving after working so hard." Abby licked bread crumbs from her fingers.
Brant had a sudden vision of lifting her fingers to his lips and licking the crumbs away himself. He looked quickly across the yard. "Guess I'll go find Jenny and Luke and see what they're up to."
Glancing around he spotted Jenny sitting with her girlfriends, each one trying to out talk the other. He didn't see Luke anywhere. Walking to the corral, he rounded a shed and found him reclined against the slats, staring into space, an open novel on his lap. His heart softened for the boy who was the spitting image of himself, and instead of berating him for being antisocial asked, "Is that a good book?"
Startled, Luke turned and then composed his features into bland indifference. "Yeah, it's pretty good."
Brant had a sudden inspiration. "Have you ever considered writing stories yourself?"
Luke gave him an incredulous look. "What? Me write a book?"
"Sure, why not? Since you love reading so much, why not write your own adventure tales?"
For once, Luke didn't seem to have a retort.
Brant started to turn around, but stopped. "You know, Miz Abby bein' a teacher and all, she could help if you got stuck on words."
A closed expression came over Luke's face. "I don't want nothin' from her, and I sure don't want her to be my ma
. My ma's dead."
Brant sighed. "That's right, son. How many times do we have to have this discussion? Your ma's dead, but you're not. You've got your whole life ahead of you and your ma would want you to be happy. She'd also want your brother and sister taken care of."
"Would she want you sleepin' with another woman?"
Brant narrowed his eyes. "I can't believe you just said that."
"Well, would she?"
"She'd want me happy, Luke. And if that's what it involves, the answer is, yes." Brant walked away from his son.
At dusk, kerosene lanterns were lit in the new barn and everyone crowded inside intent on having a good time. The fiddlers tuned up and the hard working ranchers pulled out jugs of liquor while young bucks eyed young ladies and visa versa. Babies and small children were relegated to a corner and made to lie on blankets while mothers hovered nearby.
One of the fiddlers called out the name of a tune and tapped the body of his instrument with his bow, setting the timing. The other fiddlers joined in and lively notes filled the barn. Young couples rushed to the middle of the floor and started showing off their moves. Older couples and children danced on the fringes.
Brant watched Jenny dancing with Tommy, a boy her age, and laughed when he stepped on her toes and she yelled, "Ouch!"
Near the entrance to the barn he saw Luke leaning against the frame and watching the festivities. Marylou, one of Cora's girls, approached his son and said something. Luke shrugged and actually smiled at the girl. When he sat on a bale of hay and motioned for her to join him, Brant heaved a sigh of relief and then moved his gaze to the far corner with women and small children. Abby sat in a chair holding a sleeping Ty in her arms. Walking over, he said, "Let me lay him down so you can dance."
"Oh, goodness, no. I haven't danced in years. Besides, I don't know these steps."
He lifted his baby from her lap and laid him on a nearby blanket. "Will you watch him, Peggy Lynn?" he asked a young mother.
"I shore will," she gave him a conspiratorial wink.
Brant placed a hand under Abby's elbow. "Come on, Miz Abby so I can teach you these dance steps."
