Chapter 18
Abby opened her eyes as a rooster crowed from the yard below the loft window. The peace God gave her yesterday had lulled her into sweet sleep all night. She knew consciously trusting God with every circumstance wouldn’t be learned in one day, but He promised to hold her in His embrace if she’d simply cling to Him. Last night before she closed her eyes, she pictured God taking her hand and she asked Him for peaceful sleep.
The restful night she’d spent was God’s kiss.
Abby dressed quietly and slipped down the ladder. She coaxed the glowing coals in the fireplace back to life with some kindling. Tiptoeing to the door, she took the water bucket and slipped out to the spring. Dawn stretched pale-gold fingers into the retreating dark sky. Lace-edged clouds traced the mountain horizon.
“Lord, I pray Nathaniel comes home today, but wherever he is, I know You’ll keep him within Your care. Thank You for Your faithful presence.”
She filled her bucket and returned to the house. Quinn was up and adding wood to the fire.
“I’ll have the coffee boiling soon,” Abby whispered.
Quinn nodded. “I’m going out to feed and water the stock.”
Nathaniel’s job. She mentally reached out for God and treasured the assurance of His promise.
Her hands went through her morning tasks with practiced precision, and by the time Quinn came in from the barn, she had fried mush and cooked apples ready. The aroma of fresh coffee permeated the cabin.
Abby helped Beth sit up and swing her feet over the side of the bed.
“I feel like a turtle on its back. It’s all I can do to roll over.” Beth gave Abby a wry smile. “I think this baby better come soon before you hurt yourself helping me up.”
“Come on. You need a cup of tea.” Abby grasped Beth’s arms and pulled the mother to her feet.
The children clambered down the ladder and came to the breakfast table. It wasn’t until the blessing was asked and Abby began serving up the mush and apples that she realized she’d brought six plates to the table.
“Is Mr. Nathaniel back?” Dulcie asked between bites. “He’s gonna make a bed for my dolly.”
Abby hesitated. “No, honey. He’s not.”
Beau spoke around a bite of mush. “But when is he comin’ back? He said he’s gonna show me how to carve a wooden soldier.”
Abby’s throat tightened, and she lowered her eyes. Beth hushed the children and told them to finish their breakfast.
Forcing a tiny smile, Abby rose from the table. Trying to swallow anything would be useless. She hung the water kettle on the crane over the fire. I trust You, Lord. Help me trust You more.
She brewed Beth’s tea and found unnecessary chores to fill her hands. As soon as the children scampered out the door and Quinn headed for the forge, she began clearing the breakfast dishes.
Beth rose with her teacup, obviously uncomfortable. Abby watched her settle into the rocker.
“Mrs. Sizemore said she would stop by this morning to check on you.”
“I’d best keep walking then. Eva Sizemore always tells expectant mothers to move about as much as possible.” Beth heaved herself up from the rocker. “You’ve spoiled me so much, I’m afraid I’ve become quite lazy.”
Abby smiled. “You needed the rest, and you aren’t lazy.”
“Are you all right?”
Abby glanced up. There was no point in pretending her feelings for Nathaniel didn’t exist. Beth knew better. “I took your advice, and I’m determined to trust God. Only He knows if Nathaniel is coming back, and—” Abby gasped and widened her eyes. “Oh, Beth!”
“What?”
“He is coming back.” Intuition stirred in her chest. She scurried over and grabbed Beth’s hands. “He said he would make crutches and a cane for Leon Tucker, and he did. He said he’d make a bench for the children and he did. He said he’d make a crib for the baby, and he did.”
Beth nodded slowly. “Yes…”
“Don’t you see? He told Dulcie he’d make a bed for her dolly, and he told Beau he’d carve him a wooden soldier. He wouldn’t make idle promises to the children. Wherever he went, he intends to come back.” Tears sprang into her eyes.
Beth embraced her for a moment and then framed Abby’s face in her hands. “You need to go talk to Quinn.”
Abby nodded vehemently. She dashed to the door and then skidded to a stop. “Will you be all right if—”
Beth laughed. “Just go!”
Abby picked up her skirt and ran across the footpath to the forge. “Quinn!”
The blacksmith looked up, alarm widening his eyes. “What is it? Is Beth—”
“She’s fine.” Abby paused to catch her breath. “Quinn, you know where Nathaniel went, don’t you?”
Quinn nodded. “He didn’t want to disappoint you, so he told me not to tell you. But I’m gettin’ worried about him, too. I expected him back two days ago.”
“Disappoint me?” Abby shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
Quinn grimaced. “He borrowed a horse and went on down the trail to try and fetch your belongin’s that was lost with the wagon.”
Abby brushed a hand over her forehead. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t he want me to know about that?”
“Reckon he didn’t want to get your hopes up, in case he couldn’t find anything.”
Pacing back and forth with her hands on her hips, Abby halted and spun to face Quinn. “He’s been gone since Thursday. Today is Monday.” Panic rose in her throat, and she raised her eyes heavenward. “What if—”
The blacksmith held up a hand. “I know.” He pulled off his leather apron. “Soon as I can get a horse saddled, I’ll head out. Can you get me a canteen and—”
The sound of hoofbeats drew their attention. A squad of soldiers rode up to Tucker’s store. Presuming the band to be Georgia Guard again, Abby gave them little more than a cursory glance. As she turned back to Quinn, however, recognition jarred her. She spun back to give the group a hard look. They were bluecoats.
She took a few steps closer to the open door and stared. The officer in charge dismounted and handed the reins to an aide. His hat sported a sweeping cock’s feather on one side. He strode to the steps in front of the store and paused, casting a wide scan of the town.
Abby sucked in a sharp breath. Was it possible?
Father?
After waiting for a reply from him for weeks, she feared he’d washed his hands of her. But here he stood in the little town she’d grown to love. What if he came to force her to go to Raleigh?
She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a strained whisper. “Father.” Joy battled apprehension. He came. Tears pricked her eyes. But why had he come?
She moved forward, first walking and then running toward the store.
Her father, hat in hand, climbed up the steps. As his boot landed on the porch, Abby reached the edge of the road and halted.
“Father!”
He jerked around. The moment his eyes fixed on her, angst lined his face like chiseled granite.
“Abigail.” Instead of his customary booming voice, strident tones threaded the single word.
Muscles along his jaw tightened, much like she’d witnessed numerous times during their confrontations. But this time a sheen brightened his eyes, and he moved with uncharacteristic awkwardness.
He climbed down the steps, his long strides closing the distance between them. As he approached, his chin quivered and the space between his brows crumpled. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her tightly to his chest. A tremble rippled through her, smothered in her father’s embrace for the first time she could ever remember.
“Abigail.” His relieved whisper blew the loose hairs beside her ear.
The trepidation that twisted her stomach when she first realized her father’s presence melted away as the morning dew, and she simply relished the strength of his arms enfolding her.
As though suddenly realizing his men watched the emot
ional reunion, her father abruptly set her away from him, cleared his throat, and gathered his military bearing. But when he spoke, his voice was low and husky. “Are you all right? Have you suffered any ill from your ordeal?”
“I’m fine, Father.” She stopped short of saying she was glad to see him until she learned his intentions.
A familiar scowl dipped his eyebrows as his gaze took in the surrounding area. “Where is Danfield?”
Abby bit her lip. “I don’t know. He left last week, and he’s two days overdue. We’re worried—”
“Sergeant.” Her father commanded. “Take the men and spread out. Comb every inch in and around the town. When you find Danfield, take him—”
Abby caught his sleeve. “Father, listen to me. Nathaniel isn’t here. He’s—”
“Miss Abby!”
She and her father both turned. Quinn stood by the livery, pointing toward the narrow trail that led into town from the west.
“Look there.”
Emerging from the cluster of trees, Nathaniel rode one of Quinn’s horses pulling a loaded travois. Teague Jackson followed him mounted on a mule.
Abby gave a tiny cry and covered her mouth with her fingers. When she’d loosened her grip on the situation and left it with God, He proved Himself faithful. Grateful tears burned her eyes.
Her father strode in the direction of the two riders, barking orders. “Sergeant! Corporal! Take this man into custody.”
Abby ran after him. “Father! Stop!”
The last person Nathaniel expected to see upon returning to town was Colonel Locke, but here he came stomping across the road wearing the expression of a bulldog about to attack.
The corporal snatched the horse’s reins, and the sergeant reached up and seized Nathaniel, pulling him off the horse.
Colonel Locke stood with his hands curled into fists, his narrowed eyes filled with venom. “Danfield, you’re under arrest.”
Abby tugged at the colonel’s arm. “Father, listen—”
He shrugged off his daughter’s hand. “This man was entrusted with delivering you safely to your aunt. Instead, he endangered your life and your reputation, and left you stranded here with no means of support or protection.”
When Nathaniel pulled his hat off, Abby’s eyes widened and her lips parted, presumably when she saw the bandage around his head. He wasn’t trying to garner sympathy. Removing his hat was simply a respectful gesture.
“Colonel Locke, you are correct in that I failed to complete my mission. However, I did everything in my power to ensure your daughter’s safety.”
Quinn approached and took the horse’s bridle from the corporal. Florrie came scurrying across the road faster than Nathaniel thought a woman of her age could move.
“Ephraim Locke! I could hear you bellowing all the way in the store.” Florrie planted her hands on her hips. “Furthermore, Nathaniel did not endanger Abby’s life. He treated her with the utmost respect and fought to protect her.” She leaned slightly forward. “Your charges against him simply are not true, and even if they were, what crime has been committed? You can’t arrest a man if he’s committed no crime.”
If the tension in the air hadn’t been so thick, Nathaniel would have grinned at the spunky widow.
Abby cast a quick glance at him. The moment their eyes met, something precious, yet unspoken, was communicated. She turned to the colonel.
“You’re mistaken, Father.” Her tone was soft and entreating. “Nathaniel has been a true gentleman and guardian from the very first day. He saved my life. The day the two highwaymen accosted us, Nathaniel threw himself in front of me when one of the outlaws fired his weapon. He was nearly killed protecting me.”
Nathaniel couldn’t take his eyes off Abby. The moody, irascible young woman he first thought her to be had been transformed into a compassionate, thoughtful person. Her praise caused a warm rush to fill his belly and rise up his chest to his neck.
I love you, Abigail Locke.
She pointed to the travois. “He’s been gone these last four days, and it was only this morning I learned that he went back to try and retrieve those belongings that were lost when the wagon crashed. Does that sound like a dishonorable man?”
“She’s tellin’ the truth, Colonel.” Quinn stood by, still holding the horse’s bridle. “Nathaniel asked more’n a month ago if he could borrow a horse so he could try and get the ladies’ things back.” He gestured to the travois. “There’s your proof.”
Colonel Locke took three long strides to the travois and quickly scanned the load. He ran his hand over Abby’s initials on her trunk.
Teague dismounted his mule. “He musta worked plenty hard fetchin’ all this stuff up that steep ravine.”
All eyes turned toward Jackson, and Quinn cocked his head. “How is it that you came ridin’ in with him, Teague?”
With a slight shrug, Teague rubbed his chin. “I heard Miss Abby tellin’ Miz Cobb on Sunday how she was frettin’ about Danfield bein’ gone. Wished I could do somethin’ to ease her mind. The preacher said we’s supposed to be servants and let God use us.” He scratched his head and knocked his hat askew. “Well, I seen Danfield leave before sunup last Thursday, so I knew what direction he took. Found him knocked in the head and bleedin’, and I brought him home.” He straightened his hat. “Done it for Miss Abby so maybe she’d think better of me.”
Abby clasped her hands at her waist. “Thank you, Mr. Jackson.” She gifted him with a smile, but it didn’t send arrows of jealousy through Nathaniel like it had before. He, too, was grateful for Teague’s help.
Abby stepped over to the travois and loosened the straps on her trunk. She opened the lid and pushed aside several items of clothing. A smile sweeter than anything Nathaniel had ever seen lit her face. She lifted out a small bundle. Unfolding the flaps, she revealed an ivory-handled hairbrush, a lace collar, and a dainty handkerchief with fancy stitching on it. Lastly, she extracted a cameo brooch. A tear slipped down her face, but her smile didn’t fade.
“Thank you, Nathaniel.”
He’d do it all again, even getting hit over the head, to see that smile.
Chapter 19
Abby held her mother’s handkerchief to her cheek. She’d given up hope of ever seeing it or her other treasures again. As she ran her finger around the gold-filigree edge of her mother’s brooch, a flood of praise rushed over her. An overwhelming urge to shout with joy-filled laughter sent tingles dancing through her chest. How could Nathaniel know how God had used him to bless her? When she raised her eyes she found him watching her. His tender smile and brief nod set her heart to pounding.
What an amazing and faithful God she had!
Father stepped to her side and examined the items in her hands. He touched the brooch, and a tight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still husky: “Your mother’s.”
She looked up into his face. He seemed much older than Abby remembered. Silver hairs outnumbered the dark ones, and the lines around his eyes mapped out the strain of his burdens and responsibilities. But a softness she’d never seen before gentled his gray eyes.
“Aunt Charlotte told me you gave Mother this brooch on your wedding day.”
He nodded and sniffed. “She was beautiful. And you look so much like her.”
Mercy Tucker walked over to the group. “Abby, why don’t you and your father and Nathaniel come and sit on the porch where you can talk. I’ll bring coffee.”
“Thank you, Mercy. That would be very nice.”
Father took her arm and led her toward the store, but she hesitated and glanced over her shoulder at Nathaniel. Thank you rolled through her heart for his safe homecoming. Oh, how she’d missed him.
They reached the broad porch, and Nathaniel stepped aside and waited for her and her father to ascend the steps. He held Abby’s chair, and Father maneuvered to sit between them. Abby stifled a grin.
Mercy reappeared with a pot of coffee and cups while Florrie fussed
over Nathaniel’s bandaged head.
Abby wished she were the one caring for Nathaniel, but she clasped her hands tightly in her lap and winced inwardly as she watched Florrie unwrap the strips of cloth that swathed his wound. She had just the thing back at the house to make a poultice to speed the healing, and she suspected a cup of willow bark tea would ease his discomfort. Distracted as she was, she almost missed Nathaniel telling her father he still intended to accomplish his task.
“Sir, a family member of Mrs. Cobb’s is coming in a couple of weeks to transport her on to Raleigh.”
Abby yanked her attention back to the conversation. What was Nathaniel saying?
“Even if I could barter for another wagon and team, it would be unseemly for me to escort Miss Locke without a chaperone. So,” he glanced over his shoulder at Florrie, “I planned to speak with Mrs. Cobb and arrange for your daughter to travel with her and her niece’s husband.”
Abby’s heart plummeted. Weren’t the events of the past two and a half months evidence of God’s hand orchestrating her circumstances so she wouldn’t have to go to Raleigh? She’d hoped Nathaniel felt the same and didn’t want her to go either. Her joy wilted as a protest wrestled within her for expression.
I trust You, God. You know the desire of my heart, but whatever Your will is for me, I’ll follow wherever You take me.
Florrie paused in her ministrations and gave Nathaniel a motherly look. “I would love to have Abby for a traveling companion, but my opinion isn’t the one that is important. You’d best hear what she has to say on the matter.”
Abby silently blessed Florrie and lifted a prayer heavenward. She drew in a deep breath, locked eyes with Nathaniel for a moment, and then turned to her father. “I’m not going to Raleigh.”
Father’s eyebrows arched. “Now see here, young lady—”
“Father, please. I’m not trying to be contrary, but I’m not a child anymore.” She sat up a little straighter and sent her father an imploring look. “Did you receive my letter?”
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