Abigail's Secret (A Whimsical Select Romance Novella)

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by Ternie, Tamara


  “Oh, Miss Abilene, we’ve not yet known each other five minutes and you’re already throwing yourself at me,” he teased. “I’m duly flattered.”

  “One would think I have partaken in the darker side of today’s festivities,” she said as she nodded upward to show the saloon sign above them.

  Phillip grinned and winked at her. “Do not close your options too early, Miss Abilene, the day is still quite young,” he said, and his smile widened when she contrived a look of being offended.

  Abigail decided immediately that she liked the man. His character, although a bit unconventional in her parts, was exactly what she needed. He was lively, conversational, and most of all fun.

  “So tell me, Miss Abilene, being so close to Abigail, what is your opinion over all this madness that her dowry has drawn?”

  “I find it quite distasteful, Mister McKenzie.”

  “Phillip,” he offered.

  “Well, Phillip, I find there are many men here whom would just as quickly discard poor Abigail once they set hands on her dowry.”

  “Can they do that? There are no provisions within the trust to prevent such?”

  “Yes, there are, but a woman can easily be cast aside whilst married. I suppose many of the men here wouldn’t hesitate to do such.”

  From the corner of her eyes, she noticed that Brice had made his way closer to her and Phillip. Not even an arm’s length away. He was well within earshot of their conversation, despite the chatter among the crowd.

  “Attention,” Thomas called from the podium. “We will now be drawing the name of the lucky gentleman who will accompany Miss Abigail to the barbeque, as well as win a day of courting.”

  After the crowds’ cheers and halloos had died down, Phillip looked at Abigail. “If you have no other plans, I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the barbeque after the drawing.”

  Abigail looked straight at Brice who clearly heard the invitation since the crowd was in a dead silence in anticipation of the winning name announced. Brice scowled and shook his head, clearly indicating that she should decline the man’s offer.

  “I’d be very pleased to accept, Phillip.”

  Phillip offered his arm and Abigail happily received it. “If you are as uninterested as I am to hear the winner, I suggest we get an early start to the Large estate for that barbeque. If we’re lucky, we’ll prevent the press that will surely follow once the drawing concludes.”

  “That is a rightly smart idea,” she said, and Abigail allowed Phillip to lead her to his awaiting phaeton down the road.

  Their hand and glove manner was surely to raise Brice’s dander, she reckoned, but she didn’t give a fig what Brice Winslow thought.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The yard was already besieged with hundreds of people when Phillip and Abigail arrived. It was a perfectly beautiful day in August for their barbeque. The fiddlers strummed up their beats and merrily played old Southern favorites. It reminded Abigail of times before the war when fun and lively events were the norm and not a rare event to be taken in. They passed the servants and lingered a moment to watch as they turned the roasted pigs on the large skewers. The aromas filled the air and tantalized their senses.

  “It’s smells delightful!” Phillip exclaimed.

  Her sleeveless cream and gold gown was the perfect choice, Abigail reckoned. Not only did it accommodate the warm weather, but the gold bow details on her bustle and trim accessorized with the radiance of the sun quite agreeably. She glanced around and observed all the prettily clad women throughout the gardens. On the far side of the lawn, Abigail saw Maggie enjoying a game of lawn tennis with her beau. They waved and smiled at one another until Maggie missed her ball, laughed, and returned her attention back to her game. It was then that Abigail realized that despite all the limitations that life tried to bestow upon Maggie Rush, she overcame them all to live her life in a perfectly normal way.

  Phillip recaptured her attention when he grabbed her by the hand and began to twirl her around. They playfully danced and laughed as they passed the band. She laughed with slight embarrassment of her boldness, but Phillip’s openness and zest for conversation and celebration made it easy for her to relax and take in the festivities without the burden of feeling awkward.

  After a couple more twirls, Abigail began to become dizzy and stopped amidst laughter at her silliness. When she raised her head in front of her, Brice stood before her.

  “Brice,” she said with surprise.

  Phillip nodded and tipped his hat in greeting.

  Abigail nervously smoothed her hand over her mused up curls before the introductions. “Mister Winslow, let me introduce you to Mister McKenzie of Willowville, Virginia.”

  When Phillip outstretched his hand, Brice ignored it. “How do you know this man, Abigail?”

  “There’s no need for rudeness, Brice,” Abigail scolded. “I’ll not have it at my home,” she added.

  “Your home,” he wryly smiled. “I thought this was Thomas and Abigail Large’s home. Are you not Abilene, the cousin from the North?”

  Abigail glared at him. “I’ll not allow your boorishness in my cousins’ home,” she corrected. “You shall accept his hand, Mister Winslow or you will leave. You decide.” When it didn’t look as if Brice would budge, she added. “As the festivities will be ongoing until nearly next morning, I’d suspect you would want to stay around for Abigail’s safety.”

  “Safety?” Phillip chimed in.

  “A man shot at Mister Winslow, my cousins, and me near a week ago past.”

  Brice continued to glare at Abigail but offered his hand toward Phillip. Phillip readily accepted it and smiled. “Would you like some lemonade, Abilene?” He took her hand into his in a familiar way and kissed her forehand. “I’ll give you two some time to talk.” He sneaked a wink before he left and Abigail knew a blush tainted her cheeks.

  “Who the hell is that?” Brice demanded once Phillip walked away.

  “I do believe I already introduced you,” she said. “Are you too daft to remember, Mister Winslow.”

  “You know what I meant, Abigail,” he said sternly. Brice’s face softened and his tone turned to concern. “He’s a stranger, Abigail. For all you know, that could be the man who shot at us.”

  “Look around,” she said with a flow of her hand offering a view of all the people who were already in attendance to the picnic. “What chance do you think it would be that this one man is the man who assaulted us? To my way of thinking, it’s mighty slight.”

  “Be that as it might, it’s not smart, Abigail.”

  “This display you are putting on here today is not without notice. You’ve made your point, so you can now stop.”

  “Stop having fun with my new friend?” she asked. “Did you not state just this morning I need to acquire more friends? Yet now you complain when I am only following your good advice?”

  “You’re doing it to make me jealous, Abigail,” he accused. Brice nodded in the direction that Phillip had taken. “And some men may not take kindly to their emotions being toyed with.”

  “Oh, Bosh,” Abigail said.

  Brice raised his eyes heavenward and grabbed her by the hand. He began to lead her toward the house, and she pulled from his grasp to no avail.

  “You will release me,” Abigail ordered.

  “Release her,” Phillip ordered. His jacket was pulled back behind his holster and his hand rested on the hilt of his gun.

  “This is a private matter,” Brice stated. “I’d take kindly if you just walk away.”

  Abigail looked behind her and saw that the head musician, who was a gentleman of elder years, looked frightened by the two men’s conflict in front of his group. He had stopped their music and the guests all watched on with quizzical stares.

  “Brice, people are staring,” she pointed out angrily. “This is the first true social event we’ve hosted since the war and I’ll not have you ruin my brother’s affair for his sake or this town,” she whispere
d harshly.

  “Then its best you send your friend on his way because I’ll not have you left without protection.”

  “As he is the one who is near to shooting you, I’d say I’m quite well protected.”

  Phillip grinned.

  Brice didn’t say anything for a moment. He glanced at Abigail and carefully regarded Phillip. Brice smiled after a few seconds passed. “It would seem that we will both accompany you on this day.”

  Phillip returned his jacket to cover his pistol, and Abigail faced the band’s leader and smiled. “Please continue,” she said.

  The man struck a chord on his fiddle and the band began playing Oh! Why Should the Girl of My Soul Be in Tears. The crowd slowly returned to their entertainments and left them about their business.

  Abigail rolled her eyes heavenward and started for the veranda. “Perhaps it’s best if we sit in the shade and cool these heated tempers,” she suggested over her shoulder.

  As there was no room to sit, she rested on the banister of the veranda’s railing. “So tell us, Phillip, what is your occupation in Virginia.”

  “I have a small cattle ranch and help out at a friend’s plantation,” he replied.

  “And what of your town since the war,” Brice inquired. “Was your parts poorly affected by the Yankees as well?”

  “We saw our fair share of destruction and a great loss of men,” he said sadly. “And I lost a very dear friend due to it,” he said quietly.

  “I’m truly sorry, Phillip. I share in your grief. I lost my father in the war as well.”

  “My sympathies go out to you…Abigail?” he asked.

  “I wondered if you caught my blunder back there,” she hesitantly smiled.

  “I’d be obliged if you keep that under your hat,” Brice said. “I fear Abigail may find herself in danger otherwise.”

  “And what of this other Abigail?” Phillip asked. “You don’t fear for her safety as well?”

  “She wasn’t the one who came up with this outlandish plan. She was,” Brice said, and thumbed his hand at Abigail. “I doubt most these men would take kindly to being flimflammed.”

  Abigail scowled at Brice. “For the record, Mister Winslow, it was my brother who did the scheming, and his intentions are honorable, as his purpose is to protect my heart and purse.” She looked at Phillip. “Don’t mind him, Phillip; he’s sore over being out of the competition.”

  “Is that so,” Phillip said. He looked at Brice and they shared a chuckle. Neither of the men seemed to believe her.

  “It’s truly a shame you’re not in need or want of a wife, Mister McKenzie. I think you’d make a perfectly good husband,” she praised.

  Brice glowered at her.

  “Well, as wives go, I think you’d make a perfectly good wife as well,” Phillip returned. “Unfortunately, my responsibilities and loyalties are to my friend’s wife and children.”

  “Your friend, the one who died in the war?” Abigail asked, and Phillip nodded.

  “You’re a good man, Phillip McKenzie,” Brice added. “Not many men would be so faithful.”

  Phillip nodded his appreciation and then looked off to the gardens where people had gathered to play croquet. “If you two will excuse me,” he said tipping his hat. “I think I’ll partake in a game or two.”

  “So,” Brice said after Phillip had left. “How many more new friends do you intend to acquire today?”

  “Perhaps you were right this morning,” Abigail admitted. “I truly enjoyed meeting someone new today, and Phillip was the perfect gentleman to test that notion. He is fun and delightfully charming.”

  “And?”

  “And I believe I have been too busy putting all my eggs in one basket, Brice.”

  “Meaning?” he asked, and he sounded concerned.

  She turned and looked at him. “It feels that I have been in love with you the whole of my life,” she brazenly admitted. He didn’t show a reaction to her confession, and Abigail wasn’t sure if she should feel insulted. “Yet I never allowed another man entrance into my life to see if perhaps he was more suited for my heart.”

  Brice loosened the knot on his necktie. “That’s a wise decision,” he acknowledged.

  “I believe it is as well,” she said excitedly. “I think I shall speak to my brother and have him arrange for some gentleman callers and see where that may lead.”

  “So, are you saying your affections for me have passed?”

  “Perhaps,” she said with a shrug, but she wasn’t entirely convinced. “I’m not rightly sure.”

  Brice chuckled.

  “You find that amusing?” Abigail asked. She expected that he may be disappointed or at least slightly angry at the thought of her courting other men, but Brice didn’t offer her either.

  “I find it very pleasing that you want to live life as it should be enjoyed,” he said. “What I find amusing,” he added as he took her hand and placed a kiss softly on her forehand, “Is that in the end, your heart will return to me.”

  “And how are you so confident of that, Mister Winslow.”

  Before Brice released her hand, he repositioned her bare arm for her to view the gooseflesh left in the wake of his kiss.

  “That,” he said raising her arm, “Is how I know.” Brice released her hand and tipped his hat to Thomas who had made his way towards them.

  Brice gave her a boyish grin and walked away.

  CHAPTER NINE “I shot Brice.”

  Abigail was brushing her hair and preparing for bed after the full day and night of festivities at the barbeque when Thomas entered and made his statement. His declaration claimed all of her senses and she could neither speak nor move.

  “Did you hear me, Abigail?” He walked to her and took the brush from her hand. “I shot Mister Winslow.” He shook his head and added, “Well, I didn’t shoot him myself, I hired someone to do so.”

  “Have you lost your mind, Thomas?” she cried out when her voice returned. “Why would you do such a foolish thing?” She clutched his jacket’s lapels on either side and shook him hard. “Is he all right? You haven’t killed him, have you?”

  “Calm yourself, Abigail,” he gently ordered. “I’m not talking about now, you dolt.” He gently pushed her away.

  “Thomas,” she said sternly. She eyed him with derision. “Is Brice all right or not?”

  “He’s perfectly fit,” he said. “I am referring to the other night when we were all shot at.”

  “You had someone attack us?” Abigail’s mouth opened wide and Thomas slipped his finger beneath her chin and closed it.

  “No, I had someone attack the house. It was just an unfortunate blunder when a bullet ricocheted and hit Brice.”

  “Why on God’s earth would you hire someone to shoot at us, Thomas?”

  “I wanted to test Brice and see who he’d choose to save first, you or Tess.” He walked to a sitting chair in the corner of her room and plopped down. He crossed his legs at the ankles and released a heavy sigh. “I’ve been feeling ever so guilty about it and felt the need to confess.”

  “Your confession should come by way of an apology to Brice as he was the one shot,” she shouted.

  “I doubt he’d be as understanding as you,” he grinned. “I needed to get the confession off my chest. Now that I have done so, I feel remarkably better and see no need to bother Mister Winslow with the details.”

  “That’s why you so readily paid his debts,” she declared. “I knew there was something behind your excessive generosity!”

  Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “And yet I still feel guilt-ridden for the unfortunate mishap.”

  “And what of Tess? Have you confessed this to her yet?”

  “Actually, I had planned to tell her first. As she has a much better temperament than you, I thought she’d be more readily able to accept my explanation.”

  “But you’ve yet to tell her?”

  “Although I risk being pigeonholed as a gossip, I confess that I heard Tess partaki
ng in some merriment with our butler in her bedchamber. I thought best not to interrupt.”

  “Oh, Thomas, shame on you for your lack of discretion! To reveal such a personal matter about our guest is unseemly,” she chided.

  “If you walk out into the hall, you will hear for yourself that discretion isn’t something they are overly concerned with.”

  “Thomas!” she admonished. Abigail’s mouth opened wide. “Then you shall go to her on the morrow and admit what you have done,” she ordered. “After that, you will tell Brice and apologize.”

  Thomas rose from his chair and stretched. “If I must, then I shall,” he said as he walked to the door. “I expect some painful bloodshed after telling Brice,” he sighed.

  “Then you’ll take it as a man and appreciate it as deserved,” she said. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck,” she said and closed the door behind him.

  Dressed in her nightclothes, she was about to crawl into bed when she heard pebble stones being tossed at her window. “Brice,” she murmured. She reached for her shawl and wrapped it securely around herself for propriety sake.

  Opening the doors to her terrace, she stepped out and was surprised that Phillip McKenzie was making his way over her balcony wall.

  “Phillip,” she said startled. “I didn’t expect it to be you.”

  “You were hoping it was Brice?” he smiled.

  She thought about it a moment. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t lessen my delight in seeing you once again before you make your way back to Virginia.”

  “That’s actually why I’ve returned,” he said. “I’ve decided to head out tonight and return back home.”

  “At this late hour?” she asked.

  “I find night travels suit me well for thinking.”

  “Well, I bid you a safe trip, Phillip. I hope you will return to these parts again soon and visit. I think we’ll make quite remarkable friends from this past day’s introduction.”

  “Indeed, Miss Abigail. That’s precisely why I have returned at this late hour.”

  “Is everything all right, Phillip,” she asked concerned.

 

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