But within the limited confines of the fort, it was impossible to avoid seeing him several times a day. And even when she didn’t see him, she had to listen to people talk about him. It seemed no one talked about anyone else. They discussed what he did during the day, what he didn’t do during the day, the orders he gave, and the orders he should have given. The men discussed the problems in the area and what they thought Bryce was planning to do about them. They speculated on who would take Bryce’s place and how that commander’s orders would agree or conflict with what Bryce had been doing.
The women preferred to speculate on the wisdom of his decision to bring Pamela West with him, what kind of woman he’d marry, and whether he’d want more children. The prevailing opinion was that he’d want at least one son. Abby didn’t know what they’d talk about after he left. They’d probably die of boredom.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Bryce. “Zeb was just here this morning.”
“I came to ask you to look in on Pamela. She’s not feeling well.”
“Have you taken her to the doctor?”
“She’s beard people call him ‘the butcher’so often, she really believes he amputates all his patients’ arms and legs.”
“You ought to horsewhip the person who told her such rubbish.”
“I’d like to, but that won’t help me now.”
“I don’t know anything about children’s illnesses. Why don’t you ask Sarah’s mother?”
“I suggested that, but she wants you. She says she won’t talk to anyone else.”
“Can you help Moriah until I get back?” Abby asked Dorrie.
“I can handle the store without help,” Moriah said.
“I know you can. I doubt Father could have done any better.”
The last thing she wanted was to go anywhere with Bryce. He only had to come into her line of vision and she couldn’t think straight. All her arguments why she shouldn’t be attracted to him lost their meaning. Her promise to herself that she would devote her life to making her store a dramatic success turned into a deadening weight around her neck. She could think of no reason why she should fight her desire to give in to the evermore-powerful longing to feel someone loved her, even if for only a short time.
Telling herself she was a weak fool, Abby stiffened her backbone and clenched her fists. She would concentrate on Pamela. It was safe to love Pamela.
‘Tell me what’s been happening,” Abby said as they walked across the parade ground, her stride matching Bryce’s. The faster they got to the house, the less time there would be for temptation to rear its head.
“Not a lot that I can see. She doesn’t have spots, she’s not sick to her stomach, and she doesn’t have a raging fever.”
Since she didn’t sound seriously ill, Abby didn’t feel quite so helpless. “She must have complained of something.”
“She moped about the house saying she didn’t feel well. I wasn’t too worried until she refused to eat supper. Pamela complains about Zeb’s cooking, but she always has a good appetite.”
“What was she doing when you left?”
“Lying on her bed balled up in a knot. Anytime I tried to go near her, she pushed me away and asked for you.”
Abby hoped Pamela wasn’t faking an illness to get her to move back into the house, but she wouldn’t put it past the child. She was a very bright little girl, and she still wanted Abby and Moriah to live in her father’s extra bedroom.
“How is she?” Bryce asked Zeb when they entered the house.
“She’s started crying,” Zeb said. “She says her ear hurts.”
“Poor thing. She probably has an earache,” Abby said. “I used to get them when I was a child. Sometimes I would cry all night.”
Abby could tell from the horrified look on Bryce’s face that he didn’t know what to do with a child who might cry all night.
“I could be wrong,” Abby said. “Let’s hope so.”
She found Pamela curled up against her pillows, her thumb in her mouth, her eyes closed. An occasional sob escaped her. Abby eased herself down on the bed and put her hand on Pamela’s shoulder.
“Your father tells me you’re not feeling well.”
Pamela’s eyes flew open. “Miss Abby!” she cried and threw herself into Abby’s arms. She tried to talk, but she was crying so hard Abby couldn’t understand what she said. She just held her close until she stopped crying.
“Now tell me what’s wrong,” Abby said.
“My ear hurts something awful,” Pamela said, starting to cry again. “Please make it stop.”
“When did it start hurting?”
“It’s been hurting all day, but it didn’t make me cry until Daddy tried to make me eat supper.”
“I thought you’d feel better if you ate something,” Bryce said. He sat down on the bed next to Abby. He kept patting Pamela’s leg as if he didn’t know what to do but couldn’t stand to do nothing.
“It hurt to chew,” Pamela said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bryce asked.
“Sarah’s momma says a colonel’s daughter can’t cry, that she has to be brave no matter what.”
Abby was beginning to think it was time Pamela spent less time at Sarah’s house. “It’s all right to cry when you hurt,” she said. “It’s Nature’s way of telling you something is wrong.”
“Can you make it go away?” Pamela asked.
“Not right now, but I can do something that will help you feel better.” Abby started to get up, but Pamela’s arms tightened around her.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not leaving. I’m just going downstairs.”
“I don’t want you to go. It doesn’t hurt as much when you’re here.”
Abby could remember feeling the same way when she’d had an earache and had gone to sleep in Aunt Emma’s arms. There was something about being held that made everything seem better.
Unbidden, her thoughts flew to the times Bryce had held her in his arms and how wonderful it had felt. Ashamed to be selfishly thinking of herself instead of the sick child, Abby wrenched her thoughts away from memories of Bryce’s embrace. ‘Tell Zeb I need him to do something for me,” Abby said to Bryce.
“What is it? I’ll be happy to do it.”
“I want him to roast an onion.”
Bryce looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Why would you want him to do that? Pamela hates onions. Both of us do.”
“I don’t want her to eat it,” Abby said. “I’m going to wrap it up and put it next to her ear. The heat will ease the pain.”
“I’m not sure we have an onion. Would a stone do?”
“I’ve never heard of anyone using anything but an onion.”
“If the stone doesn’t work, I’ll have Zeb ask around until he finds an onion. We’ll have that stone ready in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” her father said.
“Have you ever seen a lamb shake its tail?” Pamela asked Abby after her father had left the room.
“No, I don’t think so,” Abby replied, amused by the question.
“Then I don’t suppose you know if it shakes its tail very fast”
Abby warned herself not to laugh. “No, I don’t. Why do you want to know?”
“The faster it shakes its tail, the sooner Daddy will be back.”
Abby had forgotten how literal children could be. She was certain there was no lamb in the world that took as long to shake its tail as it would take to heat a stone through. Abby put a pillow behind her back and moved next to Pamela. “We can sit here together until he comes back,” she said. ‘Tell me what you did today.”
“I haven’t been feeling well,” Pamela said.
Abby tightened her arms around Pamela and listened while the child told her in painstaking detail of the onset of her earache. Bryce came back while Pamela was still describing her morning. He settled on the foot of the bed, mouthing to Abby that Zeb had a stone buried in the coals in the stove and would bring it
up as soon as it was hot.
“Sit over here,” Pamela said to her father, pointing to the spot right next to her and opposite Abby.
Bryce settled next to his daughter, moving his left hand behind her until it rested on Abby’s shoulder. Abby felt a surge of emotion go through her that threatened to destroy her calm. She had spent days avoiding being in the same room with him and now they were sitting practically side by side, touching, and she couldn’t move away. She could only hope he would soon get bored and go downstairs to work. But Pamela reached out for her father’s other hand, gripped it hard, and pulled it across her stomach until she was enfolded in a double embrace. Bryce settled back to listen to his daughter’s recital.
Despite Abby’s efforts to concentrate on what Pamela was saying, she was acutely aware of Bryce’s touch. Nor could she drive the picture from her mind of the three of them sitting together on the bed like a loving family. Abby knew then that her talk of never getting married and devoting herself to the store was merely the result of being hurt.
This was what she wanted.
Almost from the moment she’d arrived at the fort her actions had belied her words. She had turned to Bryce from the very beginning, depended on him, asked him for help and advice. She’d told herself she wouldn’t need to depend on him, even see him, once she learned all she needed to know to manage her store. Maybe she’d believed it, but she’d been wrong. While she was turning to him for help, she was also learning he was a very different kind of man from Albert. The fact that he meant to look for a wife in Philadelphia hadn’t been able to stop her from realizing he was everything Albert wasn’t.
And everything she’d ever wanted.
Now she came face to face with the realization that she was in love with a man who was out of her reach. Worse, she was forced to concentrate on his daughter while trying not to think about him. It would have been so much easier if Pamela had called for Moriah.
“What makes my ear hurt so much?” Pamela asked. Tears had brought her recital to an end.
“I don’t know, but it will soon go away,” Abby said. “My earaches were always gone in the morning. Have you ever had an earache before?”
“I don’t think so.”
Bryce shrugged his shoulders, so Abby figured she hadn’t. It wasn’t something you forgot easily.
“Did it hurt a lot when you had an earache?” Pamela asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you cry?”
“Yes. My Aunt Emma used to hold me until I fell asleep.”
“Will you hold me?”
“Of course I will.”
Pamela had started to cry again. “I’ll go see if Zeb has the stone warm yet,” Abby said.
Pamela’s grip tightened. “No,” she cried. “You stay. I want Daddy to go.”
Abby could see it hurt Bryce to have his daughter prefer her comfort to his, but he didn’t hesitate.
“Why didn’t you want your father to stay with you?” Abby asked as soon as Bryce had left the room.
“Sarah’s momma said mommas are supposed to stay with sick children. She says daddies don’t know what to do.”
Abby was certain Sarah’s mother had only the best of intentions, but she needed to stop trying to be a substitute mother. “Maybe some daddies don’t know what to do,” Abby said, “but your father would very much like to stay with you until you feel better. Didn’t you like having him hold you while you told me about getting sick?”
Pamela nodded.
“You’ve got a very special daddy. He brought you to live with him rather than leaving you back East with your grandmother.”
“Grandmama said he shouldn’t take me to a desert where savages ran around naked and killed people.”
“Your father wanted you with him because he loves you very much. No one in the world loves you more than he does. Next time, ask him to stay with you.”
“Can’t you both stay?”
Abby wanted to say she would stay as long as Pamela needed her, but she knew she couldn’t make false promises to this child. She was obviously reaching out for a mother figure, first by quoting everything Sarah’s mother said and now by wanting Abby to stay with her. Pamela was liable to interpret any promise to stay as a promise to stay forever. Even if she didn’t, Abby knew it would be wrong to let Pamela become too attached to her. Her father would remarry before long, and it was important that she be able to think of his new wife as her mother. It wouldn’t help if she’d already put Abby in that position.
“I can stay with you tonight,” Abby said, “but I have to go back to the store in the morning.”
“Can’t Miss Moriah take care of the store?”
“Don’t you want your father to stay with you?”
“Yes, but I want you, too.”
“I’m sorry, darling, but I can’t stay all the time.”
“Don’t you love me? I love you.”
The look of entreaty in Pamela’s eyes almost brought Abby to tears. The child needed a mother, yet Abby could never be that mother. Pamela had yet to learn that love could hurt as well as make you happy. It wasn’t a lesson Abby wanted the child to learn at her hands.
“Of course I love you. Everyone at the fort loves you. But your father is going to get married when he goes back to Philadelphia. That lady will be your mother. You’ll want to love her more than anyone.”
“You could marry Daddy. Then you’d be my momma. I love you more than anybody.”
The situation was only getting more complicated. Most likely Bryce wouldn’t appreciate her speaking for him, but she didn’t see any other choice.
“I can’t marry your daddy because I’m not going to Philadelphia. I’m going to stay here.”
“I don’t want to go to Philadelphia. Grandmama doesn’t like me.”
“I’m sure your grandmother loves you very much. She just wants you to learn to behave like a little lady.”
“That’s what Sarah’s momma says.”
Well, at least the woman had got one thing right. “Your daddy wants to go back to Philadelphia,” Abby told Pamela. “He will have a nicer job, and you can live in a nice house with a real cook.” The sound of boot heels in the hall let her know Bryce had returned.
“One warm stone carefully wrapped,” he said, handing it to Abby. “Zeb roasted an onion, but I doubt Pamela could stand the smell. I know I couldn’t I’d rather have an earache.”
“You wouldn’t if you’d ever had one,” Abby said. The stone was much heavier than an onion and considerably harder. She’d have to find a way to keep it next to Pamela’s ear without binding it to her head.
“I need one of the pillows from the extra bedroom,” she said to Bryce.
“What are you going to do?” Pamela asked.
“Make a nest in the pillow so you can lay your head next to the stone. The warmth from it will make your ear feel better.”
Bryce returned with the pillow. It took only a moment for Abby to settle the stone in the middle.
“Now lay your head next to it,” Abby said to Pamela. “Does that feel better?”
“It still hurts an awful lot.”
“Give it a little time.”
“Are you going to leave now?”
“No. I said I’d stay all night if you needed me.”
“I want you to stay.” Pamela held out her hand to her father. “Daddy, too.”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from my big girl,” Bryce said. He sat down next to his daughter in much the same position as before.
“Sarah’s momma says wild horses are dangerous, but Sarah’s daddy says he likes wild horses because they have spirit. He said I had spirit, too. Do you think I have spirit?”
“Lots and lots,” Bryce said. “You’ve got almost as much spirit as Miss Abby.”
“Sarah’s daddy says Miss Abby is a Tartar. When I asked what it meant, he said it was a good thing, but Sarah’s momma frowned. Why did she frown?”
Abby frowned herself. “I e
xpect she thought he shouldn’t have said that to you,” she said. “It’s probably something your grandmother wouldn’t like.”
“Why?”
“Being a Tartar out here may be a good thing, but I’m not sure it would be so good in Philadelphia.”
“Why?”
Abby hadn’t been around children enough to remember that why was their favorite word.
“Let’s save that until tomorrow,” Bryce said. “If Abby answers everything tonight, you’ll never have time to go to sleep.”
Abby was grateful Bryce had stepped in. She adored Pamela and enjoyed being with her, but she had a lot to learn about what it meant to have a seven-year-old around all the time. It caused her to like Bryce still more for keeping his daughter with him. No one would have criticized him if he’d left her with her grandmother.
Though it was impossible for him to be with her all the time, he spent several hours with her every day. He made a point to eat breakfast and supper with her, as well as be home in the evening. The depth of his commitment to his daughter only made him more worthy of love in her eyes.
“Do I have to go to sleep?” Pamela asked.
“Your ear won’t hurt as much when you’re asleep,” Abby said “Keep it next to the stone. The heat will make it feel better.”
Pamela must have been exhausted, and the heat from the stone must have made her ear hurt less because it didn’t take more than a few minutes before her eyes closed and she fell asleep. Abby adjusted her position to be more comfortable.
“You can go home now,” Bryce whispered softly. “You don’t have to stay.”
“I promised Pamela I’d stay all night if she wanted. I can’t go back on that now.”
“How will you get any sleep?”
“I’ll sleep right here.”
“Why don’t you lie down in the extra bedroom?”
“She wants me here.”
Bryce said nothing for a few moments. Then he whispered still softer, “I want you here, too.”
But he only wanted her as long as it was convenient. Abby knew she couldn’t accept that.
Bryce eased himself up from the bed before his cramp became something it would take him the better part of a day to work out. He needed to put more oil in the lamp before it guttered and charred the wick. His stocking feet made no noise on the bare boards of the bedroom floor. He picked up the lantern and turned to leave the room, but the sight of Abby and Pamela asleep in each other’s arms mesmerized him.
The Independent Bride Page 22
