“Your Indian friend?”
“That’s right. Indians know how to be quiet. Don’t get me wrong—they play their drums and war whoop with the best of them—but when the occasion calls for quiet, they can be quiet.” He paused. “Do you hear that?”
“Just the sound of the water.”
“Exactly.” He closed his eyes. “A man needs space to think.”
“I felt the same way, after all the train noise. It does become overwhelming.”
She closed her eyes as well, happy to be with him, happy to be enjoying the beautiful, blessed stillness. After a moment, Gabe’s even breathing changed, and she opened her eyes to see him studying her. “What is it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you what a lovely woman you are,” he said softly. “And I just thought you ought to know.”
She chuckled. “Why, thank you. What a nice thing to hear.”
All too soon, it was time to head back to the hotel. Gabe dropped her off and she ran inside, put on her apron, smoothed her hair, and was ready when the passengers came in. It wasn’t until she was halfway done with the meal service that she realized, he still hadn’t said anything about their relationship. In fact, he hadn’t even kissed her this time. It was all becoming just a little bit too confusing.
***
Dr. Wayment cleared Margaret for travel the very next day, much earlier than Abigail had thought he would. “The biggest challenge will be to keep from overexerting yourself,” he told his patient. “You’ve been through a lot, and you’re still recovering. Rest often, eat often, and try not to become too emotional. I know, I know.” He held up both hands. “I might as well be telling the sun not to shine. But do what you can. And I’m very glad you’re going with her,” he continued, turning to Abigail. “Your support will be invaluable.”
After the doctor left, Margaret turned to Abigail. “I’m not quite sure what to do with myself now. My parents are both dead, and I have no other family to speak of. I can start a new life, but I’m not sure where.”
Abigail sat down on the edge of Margaret’s bed. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. It was probably presumptuous of me, but I took the liberty of asking Mr. Brody if he’d be willing to hire you here, and he said yes. What if you put aside the money from the sale of your land and stayed here with us? Then, when you know what you’d like to do, you’ll have your savings, plus whatever wages you’ve put aside, and you’ll be among friends through it all.”
Margaret’s eyes grew wide. “I would love to stay. Thank you so much!” She threw her arms around Abigail and squeezed her tight. “I honestly don’t know how I got so lucky. You’ve changed my life, Abigail. Thank you.”
Abigail squeezed her back. “Let’s talk to Gabe and Miss Hampton, and see how soon we can leave.”
***
Miss Hampton reluctantly agreed to let Abigail go again, with the provision that Olivia stop burning the bread. Pastor Osbourne willingly agreed to lend his wife back to the hotel, stating his eagerness for some of Sarah’s soup. Colonel Gordon said he could spare Gabe for another two days, and so they set off, heading back to Wichita to settle Margaret’s affairs.
Mr. Quincy met them at the train station with his buggy, which was much nicer than having to rent one, and soon they were on their way back out to the Smith property. Abigail relaxed against Gabe’s shoulder while they drove, not actually snuggling up to him, but not maintaining her distance, either. He reached out and took her hand, and they remained that way until the buggy stopped at the farm.
Margaret took a deep breath. “Well, here we are.”
“Yes, here we are.” Abigail put her hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “You’ll be all right.”
“I know. It’s just . . . so different now.”
They all alighted, and Gabe walked around the property with Mr. Quincy to give Margaret time to go inside and collect what she wanted in relative privacy. Abigail stood by the door for emotional support as Margaret packed up her clothing and a few books, a couple of pictures, and a small glass dog. “My mother gave this to me when I turned eight,” she said, wrapping the dog in a shirt before tucking it in her bag. “It’s all I have left of her.”
“Do you want any of your kitchen things?” Abigail asked.
“No. I won’t need them at the hotel, and if I were to start over again, I’d want to do it all fresh.”
Only ten minutes after arriving at the house, Margaret stood in front of it, her face resolute, as she said good-bye. She placed her hand on the side of the buggy, ready to hoist herself back up, but then she paused. “I’m sorry,” she said. “There’s one more thing I have to do. Abigail, could you come with me to see Nellie?”
Abigail’s breath hitched. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“I am sure. In fact, if I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”
Abigail was amazed at this woman’s emotional strength. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to do something so courageous.
Together, they walked over to the Thomas home, and Margaret rapped on the door with a shaking hand. Mrs. Thomas’s eyes flew open when she saw who was standing on her porch.
“Margaret. I didn’t expect . . . well, come in.”
The three women sat at the kitchen table, Abigail noting how similar the scene was to the first time she’d visited this house. The tension in the room was just as high, although for entirely different reasons.
“I’ve come to say good-bye, Nellie,” Margaret said at last. “I’ve sold my property to Mr. Quincy, and I’m moving to Topeka.”
“Mr. Quincy’s buying my place too,” Nellie replied. “I guess he wants to combine our two properties and make a larger one. I’m going back to New York to be with my mother. She’s getting older and needs someone to take care of her, and I need a place to be.” She looked down at her hands. “Timothy’s trial will start next week, and from what I understand, he will probably be hanged.”
“I’m sorry,” Margaret said.
At the words, Nellie’s head came up. “You’re sorry? He killed your husband, and you’re sorry? I thought you’d be glad to see him hang for what he did.”
Margaret lifted one shoulder. “I’ve had several days to think it over, to sort through my feelings, and the strangest thing is that I’m not angry. I should be, and I have every right to be, but I’m not. You and Edward never should have done what you did, and Timothy never should have done what he did. All three of you are paying the price, but I can’t find room in my heart to feel glad about that. I loved Edward once, even though it faded away, and I considered you and Timothy my friends. That’s what I want to remember.”
Tears began to stream down Nellie’s face. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could somehow erase all this, change it, do it all over again differently, but I can’t. No one can. I’m sorry, Margaret. I really am.”
Margaret moved her chair closer and wrapped her arms around Nellie’s shoulders, and the two sobbed together. Abigail sat there in stunned silence. No, she would never be the kind of woman Margaret was. Never in a million years.
***
Gabe stood with Margaret and Abigail on the Wichita station platform, waiting for the train that would take them back to Topeka. “Was there anyone else you wanted to see before we leave?” Gabe asked Margaret. “We still have another half hour before the train comes.”
Margaret looked back at the town, a contemplative expression on her face, and took a deep breath. “No, there’s nothing else for me to do here. I can leave now, and I feel good about this decision. I have a clear hope, where I didn’t a week ago. I have the two of you to thank for that. I know I’ve said it often, but I’ll say it again because my gratitude is unending. Thank you.” She surprised Gabe by giving him a big hug, and then a kiss on his cheek.
“Well, now, that was a nice reward,” he said with a grin.
The train pulled into the station right on time, and they boarded smoothl
y and without hassle. Gabe knew they’d have to come back to testify, and he was grateful for the short break they’d have between trips. He’d never been a fan of train travel, and all this going back and forth over the last week would fill his measure for a good long while.
Margaret fell asleep soon after the train left the station. The air in the car was close and stuffy, so, as she often did, Abigail left her seat and went out to stand on the back platform. Gabe followed her out after a minute, stood behind her, and encircled her in his arms, one hand grasping the railing. As always, it was too loud for conversation, but he hoped he could somehow show her what he was thinking. He nuzzled his face into the hair that lay on her shoulder, reveling in the sweetness of everything about her. Margaret felt lucky, and indeed, many things had gone her way, but when it came down to it, Gabe was really the lucky one.
Chapter Thirteen
Abigail had just dumped a basket of napkins into the washtub when Gabe came around the corner of the hotel, his hat in his hands. There was something about the expression on his face that froze her tongue. Harriet was the one who spoke first.
“Hello, Deputy. How can we help you?”
“I need to speak with Abigail, if I might.”
“Of course.” Abigail found her voice. “Let’s sit on the porch.”
Gabe glanced around. “I’d actually rather go someplace a little more private. I have my buggy out front.”
She climbed in, and they drove down to the river where they’d gone the other day. Gabe didn’t say much the whole way there. While Abigail liked silence, and it had been established that he liked it too, sometimes, enough was enough. It was time for actual conversations to take place.
Once the buggy was parked, they got out and walked along the riverbank. “I received a telegram this morning,” Gabe said. “From Deputy Earp.”
“About the case? What happened?”
“No, not about the case. Well, because of the case, you might say.”
Abigail stopped walking and looked at him. “Gabe, what are you talking about?”
He didn’t reply, but handed her the telegram. She read it once, and then again to make sure she understood it correctly. “The Wichita marshal’s office wants to hire you?”
Gabe nodded. “Deputy Earp hinted as much while we were target shooting, but I thought he was joking or just being polite. He said they’d been impressed by me—well, by both of us—and they could use more men like me. I took it as a compliment, but didn’t suppose for a minute that they’d offer me a job.”
Abigail started walking again, her mind whirling. “So, are you considering it? You’d leave Topeka?”
“I’ve been thinking about it all day. Most of what I do here is simple and mundane. I like the people and they’ve welcomed me, but I want more. Earp was telling me about some of their current cases, and while I know I can’t expect that kind of excitement all the time, there would be more for me to do. I . . . I think I’d like to go.”
Abigail’s heart felt like it was separating from her chest. “I can’t imagine Topeka without you in it.”
“What if you weren’t here to see it happen?”
She turned to him again. “I don’t understand.”
He reached out and caught her hand, pulling her to a stop. “What if you never had to imagine anything without me? What if you were in my life all day, every day, sharing every moment?”
Now her heart was pounding. “What?”
He took a step closer. “I’m terrible at making fancy speeches, and I’m even worse at sharing how I feel. And I’ve never felt this way before, so that makes this even harder, but I have to try.” He reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand. “Abigail, I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you that I have to block you out of my mind entirely when I’m working or I can’t even remember how to load my gun. I know you have friends here, a life here, but I promise you, if you’ll marry me and come to Wichita with me, I will give you the happiest life you can imagine, and you will be loved every second of every day for the rest of our lives.”
“What do you mean, you’re not good at making fancy speeches?” Abigail grabbed him by the lapels, pulled him closer, and whispered “yes” against his lips before bringing him the rest of the way in for yet another breath-stopping, earth-shattering kiss.
***
Miss Hampton stood off to the side of the dining room, watching everyone enjoying themselves at the wedding reception. She looked a little lonely, so Abigail excused herself from her guests and walked over to that corner of the room.
“Thank you for making everything so lovely,” she said. “The decorations, the food—I’ll remember this day forever.”
“All the girls helped. I certainly didn’t do it alone.”
“But you did do a great deal of it. Thank you.”
Miss Hampton gave a nod. “I do wish one thing, though.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“I wish you girls would stop getting married and leaving the hotel. I’m getting rather tired of training up your replacements.” She paused for a moment. “And I’ll miss you.”
Abigail turned to Miss Hampton and was surprised to see tears in the woman’s eyes. The wall of reserve she usually held in place had come down, and Abigail could see the heart of the woman that lay beneath. “I’ll miss you, too,” she said, surprised to hear herself say the words, and even more surprised to realize she meant them.
Gabe strolled up just then, and Abigail almost stopped breathing at the realization that this was her husband. It had been a very short engagement—three days—because they wanted to get settled in Wichita as quickly as possible. They’d be there in time to testify for the trial and to see Timothy Thomas meet whatever fate might have in store for him. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, holding out his elbow.
“I am,” she replied, threading her arm through his. He had put on his buckskin jacket, and she ran her hand up and down his sleeve. She would never tire of doing that.
He led her out onto the porch and then into the shadows of the building. “Thank you for marrying me, Mrs. Deputy Hanks,” he whispered, bringing her close for a kiss. His hands slid around her waist, holding her secure. In that moment, it didn’t matter where she lived—in Topeka, in Wichita, or on the moon. Wherever this man was, that’s where her home was, for now and forever.
The Whisper of Morning
Kansas Crossroads Book Six
by Amelia C. Adams
Chapter One
Topeka, Kansas
1875
Caroline Hampton stood on the wraparound porch of the Brody Hotel, taking in a deep breath before starting her morning chores. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, casting pink and gold across the dusty landscape. She loved this time of day, these quiet moments before the town woke up and the other hotel employees began to bustle around. This was her time, an opportunity to gather her thoughts and decide on the day’s tasks in peace and quiet. Heaven knew, there wouldn’t be any peace or quiet for the remainder of the day.
Abigail’s wedding the afternoon before had been beautiful, and now she and her husband, Deputy Hanks, were off to Wichita to start their new lives together. Caroline shook her head—another waitress lost to matrimony. There had been so much turnover since the hotel opened, it was hard to keep everyone straight. The addition of Margaret Smith brought them up to five currently employed waitresses, which was their minimum to be able to function, and a sixth would certainly be nice. She paused—was she counting right? Elizabeth, Harriet, Rachel, Sarah, and now Margaret. The last three girls were all relatively new, and Margaret would start training that day. So much to be done.
Caroline walked back inside, noting the fine layer of dust that had blown into the foyer. She’d put one of the girls on broom duty before breakfast. Three pies stood waiting in the kitchen—she’d need three more for the first train alone. They were nearly out of coffee. Her mind wandered through the kitchen before her feet even stepped in
side it, determining the order in which she should do her tasks.
“Caroline!”
She turned toward the staircase at the panicked call. Elizabeth ran down the steps, clutching her infant daughter to her chest. “Caroline, I can’t wake Mother.”
Caroline grabbed her skirts and took the stairs two at a time. Agatha Early, Elizabeth’s mother, was a quiet, gentle soul who had become part of the backbone of the hotel. She tended small Rose while Elizabeth worked, helped out in the kitchen when where was call for a special dessert, and took care of much of the mending. But her lungs were weak, and Caroline feared the worst.
The other girls had trickled downstairs from their attic dormitory, and Caroline brushed past them as she ran down the hall toward Agatha’s room. The woman lay still, her skin alabaster, but Caroline could detect a faint heartbeat. She turned to the doorway where the girls had gathered, hovering, fear on their faces.
“Sarah, go find Tom and send him for the pastor. Then you’ll be in charge of preparing the food for the first train. Margaret, you’ll be helping Sarah in any way you can. Elizabeth, ask Adam to fetch Dr. Wayment. Rachel, bring me a basin of water and some towels.” Each girl disappeared as their task was assigned, and Caroline turned back to Agatha.
“There now,” she said soothingly. “We’ll get you the help you need.” She reached out with trembling fingers and brushed Agatha’s hair back from her face. “Everything will be all right. You’ll see.” But even as she spoke the words, she doubted them.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this sneak peek at The Whisper of Morning, book #6 of the Kansas Crossroads series. Please join me at www.ameliacadams.com to stay on top of news and upcoming releases, and follow me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Amelia-C-Adams/584870491648423.
The Kansas Crossroads Series:
A New Beginning
A Clear Hope (Kansas Crossroads Book 5) Page 11
