A Love All Her Own

by Janet Lee Barton

  From your letter, I know that you will be glad to know that Meagan and I are very happy, and we wish that for you as well. We pray that you will find someone who loves you in the way you deserve—for you have much love to give. You will always be welcome in our home, and we hope that you will return soon. Your mother and father miss you a great deal.

  Thank you again for your letter.

  Sincerely,

  Nate

  Abigail noticed a page behind the first. It was a letter from Meagan. If anything, Abigail’s fingers shook even more as she began to read:

  Dear Abigail,

  Thank you for your letters to us all. Please rest assured that you have been forgiven. As I’ve come to hear more about you and your help with Natalie through the years, I understand even more how much she means to you. Please know that you are always welcome in our home, as Nate said in his letter. You always will be. As Natalie’s aunt, you are family. She loves you and misses you a great deal. May God bless you and keep you. We do pray that He will bring someone in your life to make you as happy as we are.

  Sincerely,

  Meg

  Abigail found that she couldn’t stem the tears of happiness that flowed. It was several minutes before she could see well enough to open the next letter. It had no name as the sender on it, but it was postmarked Eureka Springs; she prayed that it was the one she needed most of all. She opened it, and her heart leaped at the realization that this one was indeed the letter she’d truly been waiting for. She had to keep wiping at her eyes as she read the childish handwriting:

  Dear Aunt Abby,

  I do forgive you. Please forgive me. I know it wasn’t your fault that Mommy fell down the stairs. You were trying to save her, too. Like you saved me. I know that you love me, and you didn’t cause me to fall down the stairs. I ran too fast and tripped. Please don’t blame yourself. I love you, too. Please come home soon.

  Love always,

  Natalie

  Finally, Abigail knew she’d been forgiven. Her Natalie still loved her. Abigail gave in to the tears and let herself cry long healing sobs. Thank You, Lord.

  ❧

  When Marcus arrived to take Abigail to dinner, she opened the door to him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. She’d never looked lovelier. The dress she wore was different shades of purple, although he was sure it had some fancier name. Whatever it was called looked beautiful on her. Her skin glowed, and her eyes were shining in a way he’d never seen before. Maybe her friends should have left a week or so ago, if their going had this kind of effect on Abigail.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he said.

  “Thank you.” She gathered her bag, and after making sure the door was locked, they headed downstairs. Marcus had made reservations for them and asked for an out-of-the-way table that overlooked the street. Abigail liked looking out at the streetlights, and he wanted somewhere fairly quiet. Last night had been the only evening in weeks that he’d had her to himself for any length of time, and they’d spent that talking about Robert Ackerman. Marcus wasn’t going to miss her friends at all.

  They were shown to a corner table that had a view of the street yet was more private than some of the others. He held Abigail’s chair for her and then sat down across from her. The waiter placed menus in front of them and then left them alone.

  “Were you able to rest this afternoon?” She looked. . .more refreshed and alive than he could ever remember.

  “I didn’t take a nap, but I can’t remember when I’ve had a better afternoon. The letters I received gave me joy.”

  Marcus wanted to ask about them but didn’t feel he had the right to yet. And once he told Abigail about looking into her past, as he knew he must, he might never have that right.

  ❧

  Abigail had never experienced a more perfect night. She didn’t know if it was because of the forgiveness she’d received from her letters or from Marcus sitting across from her. She had a feeling it was a combination of both. From the time Marcus had picked her up, she’d felt more special than she ever had in her life. The look in his eyes told her that he found her attractive, that he was happy being with her, too. She was beginning to believe that she could put her past behind her and look to a future.

  She’d let him order for her, and they had the same meal they’d enjoyed on the first night they’d eaten together. Only this time, it felt special—as if it were their meal, their evening.

  “I have to tell you that I wasn’t real sorry to see your friends take off.” His dimple flashed as he grinned at her.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “They can be quite—”

  “Irritating to be around—I’m sorry, Abigail. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure they aren’t irritating to you, but it got a little tiring not being able to. . . ” Marcus stopped and shook his head. “Never mind. I guess I just resented the fact that I rarely saw you without them.”

  At his admission, Abigail’s heart turned to mush. He’d missed being with her. . .just as she’d missed him. Hope soared inside that what she was feeling—what she hoped he was feeling—was real and not just a dream.

  Fifteen

  Marcus sat beside Abigail in church the next day, disgusted with himself. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell Abigail about looking into her past the night before. It had been such a perfect evening—one he’d remember forever. He’d told himself that he’d waited this long; surely he could wait a little longer.

  The sermon was one he needed to convince him he had to tell Abigail everything. Minister Martin preached on secrets and truth. The verse that seemed to speak to Marcus’s heart was Luke 8:17. “For nothing is secret, that shall not be made manifest; neither any thing hid, that shall not be known and come abroad.” He could not put off letting Abigail know he’d had her life looked into any longer. She would eventually find out. He knew that. But even more, he didn’t want to keep a secret from Abigail ever again, and he wanted her to know she could tell him anything.

  He would tell her tonight when he took her back to the hotel. It was time. But in the meantime, he was going to enjoy the afternoon with her at his parents’ home. He loved Sundays. It was the only day of the week that he was able to spend the whole day with Abigail.

  Now he watched her from across the table and knew without a doubt that this was the woman he wanted to marry. And he had a feeling his parents wanted the same thing for him.

  “Are you going to miss your friends, dear?” his mother asked Abigail.

  “Not terribly. I will miss Jillian the most. But the rest of them are easier to take in small doses, I’ve found. I’m sure they feel the same about me after this visit.”

  “I don’t know how anyone could tire of being in your company, Abigail,” Marcus’s father said. “We enjoy you immensely.”

  “Well, I think I’ve changed from the friend they counted on me to be. I. . .have changed in the last few months, and although I like the changes, I’m not certain that they all do.”

  “We all grow at different paces. . .in all kinds of ways.”

  “It was time I did some changing,” Abigail said. “And I believe I had to leave home to do it. I’m not sure that I ever would have if I’d stayed in Eureka Springs.”

  “Well, I know you will want to go back to see your parents, but we’d love to see you make your home here.”

  “All of us would like that,” Marcus said, his gaze catching Abigail’s and holding it. He watched the delicate color flush her cheeks and hoped that what he thought she might feel toward him was right.

  The afternoon went by much too fast, as the days were getting shorter, and after sharing a light supper with his parents, they decided it was time to head back to the hotel. It had turned cooler out, and his mother insisted that Abigail wear one of her light jackets on the way back.

  “Are you warm enough?” Marcus asked as they headed back to the hotel.

  “Yes, thank you. It’s a lovely evening, isn’t it? I love this tim
e of year.” The streetlights were being lit as he drove down Central Avenue, and lights were being lit in houses up the hillside.

  “Would you like to take a drive, or are you too tired?”

  “I’d love to take a ride.”

  Marcus steered the buggy past the Arlington, taking it to the right at the Central Avenue and Fountain Street split, then following Park Avenue past the Waverly Hotel and the Hays House, which was undergoing renovations. He turned and made the circle back.

  “Oh, it’s lovely at night from up here!”

  “Yes, it is.” But nowhere as beautiful as you are. Her eyes were sparkling as bright as the stars she was looking at. Marcus wanted to tell her his thoughts, but he had to be truthful with her. The longer he put it off, the more he feared she’d never forgive him. When they arrived back at the Arlington, he wanted to delay the moment of truth as long as he could and thought about asking if she wanted to go to the dining room for a cup of tea. Instead, he walked her to her room as always, checking it out and then coming to stand in the hall beside her. “If you aren’t too tired, I’d like to talk to you about something.”

  “No. I’m not tired. What do you want to talk about?” Abigail asked.

  Upholstered benches had been placed here and there in the wide hallway, and he motioned her to one. “Would you like to sit?”

  “Do I need to?”

  “I’m not sure how you are going to take what I’m about to say.”

  “Let’s sit, then.”

  Marcus led her to the bench and sat down beside her. “Abigail, there is something I should have already told you.”

  “What? What is wrong? Is there more about Robert?”

  “No. No, this has nothing to do with him. It has to do with you.”

  “With me?” She looked at him with a question in her expression. “What is it?”

  Marcus found he couldn’t sit still. He got up and paced in front of the bench. “I’m afraid I’m not very proud of myself.”

  “What have you done?”

  “I’m not sure it’s what I have done as much as what I have not done.”

  “Marcus! What are you talking about? Tell me.”

  He dropped down on the bench beside her and took one of her hands in his. “Robert isn’t the only one I had checked out.”

  “The rest of my friends—you investigated them, too?”

  “I did. And not only them—”

  Abigail jumped to her feet, pulling her hand from his. “You checked into my background, too?”

  He hesitated. Oh, how he wanted to deny it. But he couldn’t. He looked her in the eye. “I did. I wanted to know more about you so that—”

  “No! I don’t want to hear any more. You know all about me. You know how—”

  “Abigail, there was no—”

  “No. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me—”Abigail rushed into her room and slammed the door.

  “Abigail. Please, listen to what I have to say.”

  “Go away, Marcus. Just go away.”

  He thought he heard her begin to cry, but he couldn’t stand outside her room and pound on the door until she opened it. He couldn’t compromise her reputation that way. “I’m sorry, Abigail.”

  Silence answered him from the other side of the door.

  ❧

  Abigail let the tears flow. All her hopes of a future with Marcus were gone. Had never really been—not after he found out what kind of woman she’d been back home. She readied herself for bed without even realizing she did, her thoughts on all that Marcus must have learned about her.

  The maid arrived with her nightly pot of tea, and Abigail motioned for her to set it on the table.

  “Are you all right, Miss Connors? Can I get you anything?”

  “No. Please. Just. . .thank you. . .but just go. I’m all right.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Abigail poured a cup of tea but found she couldn’t drink it. She sat but found she couldn’t sit still. She paced her room. Back and forth in front of the fireplace. What was she to do now? Her heart twisted so tightly she thought it would surely break. She’d known Marcus was protecting her because her father asked him to. . .but she’d begun to feel that he had come to care for her just as she did him. It no longer mattered that he’d started out looking after her because of her father.

  But now. . .to find that he’d had her investigated, asked questions about her, found out what a horrid, selfish person she was. She shuddered. All her dreaming about a future with him had been just that. A dream. There was no way a man like him would fall in love with a woman like she’d been. How could he see her as the woman she’d become now after all he’d found out? And how could she stay in Hot Springs knowing all that he knew?

  After a sleepless night, Abigail got out of bed as soon as it was light outside. At some time in the middle of the long night, she’d come to the conclusion that it might be time to go back home. She’d only thought it would be hard to stay in Eureka Springs and watch Nate and Meagan start a new life. To stay here and see the disappointment Marcus must feel after just learning about how selfish, conniving, and hateful she’d been. . .

  No. She couldn’t do it. She had to leave. Much as she loved Hot Springs, she couldn’t stay under those circumstances. Couldn’t watch what might have been caring for her turn to disgust. She hurriedly dressed and then pulled the cord to alert the desk that she wanted service. Then she began packing. She knew there was a midmorning train to Eureka Springs because her friends had debated taking it or the later one. She wanted to be on the earliest one she could get.

  When the maid came up, she was pleased to see it was Bea, but she was sad, too. She’d come to like the young woman. She had written a letter of recommendation to the hotel manager, suggesting that he put Bea on full time when an opening came up. And she’d left a note with a large tip for her. That was the least she could do.

  “What is it, Miss Connors? You are up awfully early!”

  “Yes, I’ve decided to go home. I need to have the clerk procure me a ticket on the morning train to Eureka Springs. Would you let him know? And then can you come back and help me pack?”

  “Of course. But oh, I do hate to see you go! I thought that maybe you’d be marrying and staying in Hot Springs.”

  Abigail turned quickly to keep Bea from seeing her tears. That was exactly what she’d been hoping for, too. “I guess that isn’t to be.”

  ❧

  Marcus hadn’t slept at all. He’d tossed and turned until he finally flung the covers off and got up to pace his room. But that did no good, either. Finally, just before dawn, he’d gotten dressed and gone for a walk, praying for an answer to his distress. Surely Abigail would hear him out today. Last night, she’d never let him tell her how he felt about her, never let him explain that none of her past mattered. Of course, he really couldn’t blame her. For the first time, he realized how invasive his profession could be and how he wouldn’t like it if someone had been poking into his past for no reason other than that they just wanted to know.

  It gave him pause. He knew he provided a needed service. Had he not had Ackerman investigated, the man could still be free to hurt someone else. And what he had found out about Abigail’s other friends was only because of wanting to know more about her. But he shouldn’t have looked into her past. Her father had given him all the information he needed. Yes, he wanted to know why she was so sad, and though he’d wanted to help her, he should have asked her. . .not gone about it the way he had.

  Before he got to the Arlington, he knew something was wrong. Nelson was pacing back and forth outside the hotel.

  “I had the desk clerk ring through to the office for me and had Luke see if you were in your apartment. Ross followed Miss Connors to the train station. She left a half hour ago. She had the clerk reserve a ticket to Eureka Springs for her. I have a hack hired. Let’s go!”

  Both men hurried to the hack, and Marcus didn’t even ask Nelson why he thought he should be goin
g, too. At the moment, all he could think of was stopping Abigail from taking that train. “To the train station as fast as you can get there!” he told the driver.

  Both passengers were flung to the back of their seats as the driver proceeded to do just as Marcus had asked. When the driver reined the horse in at the station, Marcus left payment to Nelson. He’d settle up with him later. He ran into the building and scanned the crowd of people either just coming in or getting ready to leave. Finally, he saw Ross motioning to him several yards ahead.

  “Where is she?”

  “Over there.” Ross nodded across the room where Abigail was sitting, her head bowed and her eyes closed. “Her train isn’t due in for about twenty minutes.”

  Marcus sighed in relief. She was still here. “Thank you, Ross.”

  He prayed with each step he took. Dear Lord, please let her hear me out. Please let her forgive me. I ask Your forgiveness, too. And I ask that if it be Your will, I can convince her to share her life with me.

  He took the seat beside her, and she didn’t even look up. He braced himself for the possibility that she might run from him, and then he took a deep breath. “Excuse me, miss. I’d like to ask your forgiveness if you can find a way to give it to me.”

  Abigail opened her eyes and started to rise. Marcus put a hand to her shoulder. “Please hear me out, Abigail. Please. I love you so.”

  She did stand then, shaking her head. “No. How could you? You’ve just found out all the bad there is to know about me.”

  Marcus jumped to his feet, his hands on her arms, looking deep into her eyes. “None of that—”

  “You know how selfish and manipulative I’ve been in the past,” she continued. “You know how I tried to get my sister’s husband to marry—”

  “No, Abigail. Don’t—”

  “—me when he loved someone else,” she continued as if she didn’t hear him. “You found out how I was just like the rest of my friends, only wanting to have—”