“Will you say yes if he comes and asks?”
“Why wouldn’t I if he really thinks I can help?”
Julia looked torn between fascination and horror. “Well, there would be wounded men and all the mess that goes with it and some of the men may be, um, indecent at some time.”
“And I suspect that is the sort of thing that the doctor would be shielding me from. He may not even ask so no need to worry over something that might not happen. But if he thinks I can help some of the wounded soldiers, how can I refuse?”
“I guess you can’t. Oh, I must tell you that you really annoyed Mrs. Beaton by feeding the children first, especially since she could not really say anything about it.”
Julia looked so pleased that Abigail decided she must see it as a good thing. Abigail was not so sure it was but had no inclination to change what she saw as neglect. She just hoped Mrs. Beaton did not find subtle ways to make her pay for what the woman must see as disobedience.
“I hope I have not made things awkward.”
“Why did you decide to do that?”
“Because they were being treated almost as an afterthought, like the dog that needs feeding or the like. They have been deeply frightened and wounded. Little Noah lost his parents, a sister, a brother, and even his puppy. Somehow it just seemed wrong.” She sighed, leaned back, and stared up at the ceiling, which she noticed had some very elaborate plasterwork. “I just thought it wrong, that someone should take some notice of them.”
“Oh, I think they will now.”
“Why not before?”
“It clearly does not strike you, but Mrs. Beaton is a very formidable presence. We have all fallen into her habits and her ways and she has little to nothing to do with the children. She occasionally has a moment or two of fawning over the little girl, but that is all. I do not believe she likes the little boys much at all. Some have made mention of the fact that the children are ignored, but no one dares say so to her or act in any way that might offend her.”
“I suspect I will be offending her fine senses a lot then.” She smiled faintly when Julia laughed.
* * *
Matthew stepped outside and looked back at the door of the Woman’s House. Her mouth had been as soft and sweet as he had thought it would be. It was probably reckless to kiss her as he did, but he had been unable to stop thinking about her mouth and thus unable to resist the temptation to taste it when it was so close. What troubled him was that he knew now he would want another taste and more.
It was early to seek his bed, but if he was going to do some thinking whether he wanted to or not, he might as well do it while lying on his back. Under the blankets was a lot warmer than wandering outside now that winter had settled into the chilly, damp night air. He suspected his mind would wind about in circles but he could not stop it from preying on the matter of Miss Abigail Jenson.
Slapping his hat on his head and doing his coat up tightly against the cold, he started to walk back to where he had his bunk. Reminding himself that Abigail was a proper girl despite the fact that she could shoot better than most of them, deal with wounds so well her work impressed a doctor, and was plainspoken, she was not one of the girls at the saloon. He knew that reminder would not keep him away, however. He had to stop dancing around and really think of what he might want from her. One did not play love games with a girl like Abigail unless one was serious, and he was not sure just how serious he was.
Chapter Four
Looking up from her sewing, Abigail frowned as Julia slipped into the house. The woman looked extremely untidy, as if it was storming out, but a glance out the window told Abigail the weather was calm. There was a twig caught in Julia’s badly mussed hair and what appeared to be grass stains on her skirts. Considering the snow on the ground, she had to wonder where the girl had been. To her surprise, Julia snatched Abigail’s cape off the hook by the door, put it on, and walked over to sit down next to her.
“What have you been up to?” Abigail asked as she continued her sewing.
“I just went out walking with Robert.”
“Oh. It rather looked as if you fell down.” A quick glance caught the deep flush on Julia’s face.
“He was chasing me for fun, but I fell and tumbled down a little hill.”
“Of course.” Abigail tied off the thread and carefully studied another spot on the skirt of her gown.
“Robert wants to marry me. I said yes.”
“Probably a very good idea.”
“What are you doing to that gown?”
“Embroidering flowers on it. It has some spots along the hem I could not wash out so I am trying to hide them.”
“Oh, well, that will be pretty when you are done.” Julia frowned. “Yet this takes a lot of time, doesn’t it? Would it not be just as quick to make a new dress? I wager you can even get a green as pretty as that one.”
“I don’t think so. Cloth is very dear and rare at the moment. This war has caused a lot of trouble with that. Winter probably adds to that. It was difficult enough to get the colored thread.”
Julia frowned. “I had not realized that but then I have had no need of anything yet.”
“Trust me in this, Julia. I have been to the general store and the prices there make me wonder if this is a gold mining town.” She shook her head. “The owner is enriching himself, I am sure of it.” She readied her needle again and began to work on another spot.
“I need to go and rest. And warm up a bit. Is it our turn to help with the evening meal?”
“No, Barbara and Kate are to do it tonight. Just hang my cape up in our room. Best not to flaunt the grass stains.”
Blushing, Julia hurried away and Abigail sighed. She had a feeling her words had sounded like a condemnation to Julia. She would have to make it clear that they had not been. It was all too easy to understand Julia and Robert’s reckless behavior. Falling in love with a soldier was not easy, and the constant shadow of losing him at any time never left. She could only hope that they had considered all the possible repercussions, but there was something about Julia, something she could not yet point to as tangible proof, which told her it was already too late to avoid them.
She had only been at the house for eight weeks and she had seen more than she had ever wanted to of death, blood, and horrible wounds. What she had done for Boyd had brought attention her way. The doctor himself had come to request her help. She did not really mind even though some of the wounds had turned her stomach. Men could find a way to kill each other even in the depths of winter. The doctor was a good man, one who did not just hack off a wounded limb, and he fully appreciated the skills she had gathered while working with her father over the years. He had even confided that he now believed women should be able to study all that could make them a doctor if they wished to. Yet she found it sad and wearying to see so many young men injured or dying. Blue or gray, it did not matter. The constant waste of life was beginning to sicken her.
There was one bright side to it all and she decided she needed to fix her mind on that. She had also seen to the care of the women and children in the town. The doctor was expected to care for the soldiers so the women came to her. She knew they looked on her as a particularly skilled midwife but she did not care. It was work she was happy to do because the outcomes were mostly good ones.
Her days were busy, she was safe, she had work that kept her mind and hands occupied, and she had friends for the first time since leaving Pennsylvania. Only one thing troubled her. Where was Matthew? She had only seen him once since she had been put in this house, aside from his brief stop to check on her on the day she entered the house and give her a quick kiss. It was a brief visit about two weeks ago where they had shared coffee and little cakes and talked while all the other women in the room sat nearby pretending not to listen. He had stolen another quick kiss and she began to think they were just friendly things in his mind. She sighed and concentrated on her embroidery. Matthew would visit when and if he wanted to and she w
ould cease to take his absence personally.
* * *
Matthew watched the Rebel camp through his spyglass. It certainly looked as if they were readying for an attack. Putting away the spyglass, he started to move back, careful to make no sound or disturb any of the bushes he was hiding in. It would take him a while to get back to where Jed waited with his horse and he really did not want to cover the distance with Rebs hot on his trail. He wondered how James was doing on his spying foray and hoped whatever the man saw or heard would match with what he had discovered. The very last thing he wished to do was return and lie on the cold ground to recheck what he had seen.
What he wanted, he decided as he stood and broke into an easy run, was to go and visit with Abbie. She fascinated him, he finally admitted to himself. She could shoot better than many a man and yet she painted flowers on a wagon. She dealt with stomach-churning injuries of soldiers, yet made certain little Noah would soon get a puppy to replace the one that had been killed with the rest of his family. She had kindly mended the tear in the sleeve of his uniform but then embroidered a snake over the signs of mending. He was still not sure how he felt about that.
His conscience told him he should go to a whore and rut until every last drop of fascination with Abigail was gone from his system. Yet he had no urge to do that. He did not know if he even wanted to pursue any woman, especially not one as properly raised as Abigail had been. The war made such a thing as courting a big risk, plus he knew he had been hardened by the war, and was not even the rough-at-the-edges gentleman he used to be. He was no longer suitable for a properly raised young woman, especially one who had lost so much to the war.
“Hey, sir! Over here!”
Matthew stopped, looked around, and finally saw Jed ride out of a thick cluster of trees leading his horse. “Ye had to hide? Someone come this way?”
“Two fellars. Rebs. Think they mean to spy on the town. Thought about just shooting them but was afeared the shots would bring us unwanted company.”
“It would have done. I suspicion the Rebel camp is close enough to hear them.”
“Saw a whole camp, did you?” Jed asked as Matthew mounted his horse.
“I did and it kept growing, raiders riding in and staying.” He nudged his mount into a slow walk. “Also saw a small troop of men with a wagon of supplies and a small cannon.”
“Damn, that ain’t good.”
Matthew sighed. “Nay, it isnae. I’m curious to see if James gets the same information.”
“I am thinking he might find that camp he went to watch is empty now.”
“Aye, and if so, it certainly points to trouble for us.”
Jed just nodded and Matthew sighed. They were headed for a battle. He was sure of it. There were not enough men in that camp to launch a full attack but they could start a skirmish that could cost the army and the town dearly. He would find the time to warn Abigail.
James appeared at their side. He looked sweaty and irritated. Matthew then looked at the man’s coat and frowned.
“Did Abbie fix that tear in your coat?”
“Yup.” James straightened his coat and Matthew shook his head when he saw a dragon over the spot where the mending had been done. “I rather like it.”
“I suppose it is better than a snake,” Matthew said, and James laughed.
They started riding toward the town while discussing what they had seen. James had discovered the camp he had been sent to watch was a lot smaller than it had been. Matthew suspected the men had come to the camp he had been watching.
“The fools even dragged their cannon off,” James said.
“I think I can say with some confidence that your camp has now merged with the one I was watching. The question is, what does it mean for us?”
“Trouble. Unless they are marching out to join up with the main army for some major assault,” mused James. “Hell, they could just be huddling together for warmth.” He grinned when Matthew laughed.
“We will have to keep a close watch as they are obviously planning something.”
His companions grunted in agreement as they rode toward the place where they bunked. Matthew went to the major to report all he had seen and left the man puzzling it out. He stood outside the major’s office and contemplated what he would do next. There was still a lot of the afternoon left so he decided he could do something with Abigail. Maybe a walk, he thought as he made his way to the bathhouse. It was cold but there was little wind so a brief stroll would not do her any harm.
* * *
Abigail helped Julia up the stairs and was not terribly surprised when the girl escaped her hold and raced into their room to throw up into a bucket. She did wonder when the bucket had arrived. Julia was hiding things, but Abigail had to let her know that she was not hiding it well. All the other women knew the girl was with child although only two had made any comment on it, and neither of those women had been harsh. The only one who appeared to be oblivious was Mrs. Beaton.
Wrinkling her nose at the scent of sickness, Abigail got a damp cloth and went to bathe the girl’s face after she lay down on the bed. As she gently bathed the sweat from Julia’s face, she noticed that when lying down it was very obvious that Julia was carrying a child. Putting away the cloth, she pulled the blanket up over the girl.
“Thank you,” said Julia quietly. “The sickness will soon pass.”
“I know. Julia, you are not hiding much from the other ladies here, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Julia asked, but revealed she knew well what Abigail meant by blushing deeply.
“Oh, I think you know, but I will make myself clear. About the only one in the house who does not realize you are carrying a child is Mrs. Beaton.”
Julia began to cry and Abigail sighed. She did not like to see her friend upset but knew there was nothing she could do to change the situation the girl was in. It was past time Julia faced some harsh truths and dealt with them as an adult. Women who got pregnant and were not married were treated like pariahs and the country tearing itself apart with this war was not a good enough reason for the judgment to treat Julia differently.
“How did they figure it out?”
“Well, you are beginning to show.”
“This little bump?”
“There is that and then there is your sickness and all those long walks you take with Robert even when winter has set in. It adds up and equals what ails you now. Of course, you could just marry Robert and no one would care. How far along are you?”
Julia sniffed and pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, gently dabbed the tears from her face. “I do not know.”
“When did you start getting sick?”
“Months ago. I feel like I have been sick forever but it has really only been a few months. I think I might be about three months along?”
“I suspect you are more like six months along.” Abigail frowned. “I would have thought you would be, well, bigger and that the sickness would have faded away.”
“From what I recall, most of the women in my family carry small. A lot goes to the hips and all. My mother used to like to say the babes nested sideways in a Hawkins woman.”
Abigail tried not to, but she laughed a little. “One way to look at it. May I feel your stomach?”
“Why?”
“Just to see if I can feel anything. Occasionally a good feel of the belly can tell one a lot.”
“Oh. All right.” Julia lifted her gown and lay still.
“What is this wrapping around you?”
“I was trying to make the bump less noticeable.”
“Well, do not do that anymore,” said Abigail as she unwound the binding. “It could do something to the baby.”
“Will the binding hurt the babe?”
“I do not really believe so, but I cannot think that tightening the area it needs to grow in is a good thing.” Under her hand Abigail felt the bump of a small foot and watched Julia flinch. “Now I understand those odd twitches you have develo
ped. Babe is alive and moving. Do you wish the doctor to see you?”
“No. That would be akin to putting a big sign on the door, and I am trying very hard not to let the whole town know.”
Abigail pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down, taking Julia’s hand in hers. “Julia, you should tell Robert. Maybe he can find a way for you two to marry now and give his child his name. You can always have a fancier service to celebrate with his family when this cursed war is over.”
Julia frowned. “I suppose that would be a solution. It would not be all I had dreamed of but, you are right, it would name my child.”
“I know others have done it. Well, maybe not because of a child, but they have married a soldier during the war. Half the widows here are soldiers’ widows.”
“I know. I will talk to him the next time I see him.”
“Good. Then all you will need to concern yourself with is caring for the child you carry.”
Julia rubbed her belly. “Yes. That is for the best. I promise I will tell him. I see him soon, this afternoon actually, so it will soon be done.”
Abigail pulled up the blanket to hide Julia’s belly when she heard footsteps on the stairs. A moment later, Mrs. Beaton stood there. The woman just looked at Julia and frowned.
“Should I tell Mr. Collins that you cannot see him now, Julia?”
“Oh no, Mrs. Beaton. Please tell him I will be down in just a moment.” Julia cautiously sat up as Mrs. Beaton left. “He has come a lot sooner than I thought he would.”
“That is for the best. Quickly done and problem quickly solved,” Abigail said.
“I suppose.”
“You said he had already asked you to marry him and you said yes,” Abbie said as she followed Julia to the door.
“Yes, he did.” Julia straightened up, walking to meet Robert with her head held high.
Abigail studied the man waiting for Julia and decided he could not be much older than her. He was about a head taller than her and lean bordering on skinny. His hair was as raggedly cut and long as was James’s and a dark blond. When he smiled at Julia one could easily see why the girl loved him. There was a soft glow in his blue eyes that backed up the message in his smile. When the two of them went into the little parlor, Abigail walked into the main room and sat down, planning to wait until Julia and Robert called for a minister.
When You Love a Scotsman Page 5
