Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
“This
wouldn’t have anything to do with money taken from the mill, would it?” he
asked.
Abigail
gulped, chagrined, glad that Aaron couldn’t see her face and all the guilt that
was written there.
“Aaron,
she’s sick, really sick, and this horrible man is holding her hostage.”
“What
man?” he asked.
“Some old
critter named Burt. He’s got something on Dare, and …”
“I want
the truth,” Aaron reminded her with a few smacks to accompany his order.
“I was
taking him my Aunt’s broach so that he’d let her go.”
“Abigail
MacPhearson
Barrow, you’re playing a blackmailer’s
game,” Aaron declared.
“I had
to,” she said. “He pulled a knife on us, and he only let me go when I
promised to bring him back some money.”
“Good
Lord, what have you gotten yourself into?” By that time, Aaron was so
aghast at the revelation, that he pulled her up to look her in the eye. Sitting
her on his lap, he held her tightly to him, a hand clutching one sore rear
cheek.
“Tell me
now, from the beginning, everything!” he said.
Abigail took a
deep breath. It was so hard to speak with tears threatening and her head
pounding and Aaron staring at her in the inky, moonlit darkness. “Darcy
came to me yesterday morning,” she heaved breathlessly, “and … she
asked me to help her out with food and clothes. She was terribly sick, I
couldn’t not help…” She stopped to catch her breath again.
“And . .
. ” Aaron eyed her sternly, waiting for her to continue.
“I helped
make her comfortable in the old barn. I wanted her to stay with us, but she was
so afraid that Burt would come after her here, and she didn’t want to put me in
any danger.”
“But you
ended up in danger anyway,” Aaron reminded her.
“In the
afternoon, I went back to her. I was so worried, her fever was high and she
seemed so weak.”
“You went
back in the afternoon, while I was gone?”
Abigail gulped
chagrined and nodded.
“I
see,” he said. “So I presume Darcy did take my money?”
Abigail looked
away from him, her expression sheepish.
“No, I
did,” she said reluctantly.
“You took
the money?” His hand took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“She was desperate, Aaron.”
“And
she’s with this blackguard now, who’s blackmailing you for more money?”
Aaron asked.
“Yes, in
that old barn.” She turned and looked toward the road.
“And you
say he has a knife?” Aaron asked.
“Yes, a
long, black shiny one.”
“No
gun?”
“I don’t
know, I don’t think so.”
In the
moonlight, Abigail could see the grim expression on her husband’s face was as
filled with worry as it was anger. Abigail, without a shawl or coat, found her
herself hugging her arms in the chill of the night air.
“Let’s
go,” Aaron said, making up his mind. He stood up, pulling Abigail with
him. Taking her by the hand firmly, he led his wife back to the house, as if
she was a naughty child, not a grown up woman. Inside, she watched as he
silently put on his coat from a hook on the kitchen wall, and then reached into
the closet to find his rifle. It always made her shiver to see him load the
deadly firearm, but this time more than usual, considering the nature of his
concern.
“You’re
going after her?” Abigail asked.
“Yes,”
he said.
“Shouldn’t
I go with you?” she asked meekly.
“No!”
Aaron blared. “I’ll have enough to worry about getting Darcy away from
this ruffian. And I warn you, Abby, you budge an inch from this house, you’ll
be paying for months. You hear me?”
“Yes,
sir,” she replied. “Aaron, I’m sorry for everything.”
“I’m sure
you are now that you see your utter foolishness. But you’ll have plenty of
opportunity to pay for your mistakes, when I get back.” His brown eyes
flashed in their hot dark way, so she was certain to get his message. “Now
lock the doors and windows. If the man’s no more than a bully, which I suspect
is all he is, I should be back within the hour.”
Aaron left
briskly, Abigail watching from the kitchen window as she saw her husband cross
the yard, enter the barn and emerge a few minutes later on horseback.
It was
terrifying waiting for Aaron to return, not knowing what might greet him at the
barn. Certainly her virile young husband was more than man enough to handle
Burt, but still, the danger to him and her best friend could not be diminished.
All kinds of frightening thoughts raced through her head as she paced the floor
waiting for Aaron’s return.
Over an hour
later, Abigail finally heard the sound of hoof beats in the yard. Racing toward
the kitchen windows, she saw Aaron with Darcy riding in front of him. Flying
from the house, ready to grab them both, her act was met with a nasty scowl
from Aaron.
“I told
you not to leave the house!” he said.
“But . .
.”
“Get back
inside, we’ll be there in a few minutes,” he ordered.
Stopped short,
Abigail was bewildered. But she had no choice but to obey Aaron’s command. And
returning to the kitchen, she stood at the doorway and watched as the two
dismounted the horse and Aaron led a somewhat limp and weary Darcy inside.
“Put her
in her room, she needs some sleep,” Aaron said. “And then you come to
bed. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
“But tell
me what happened,” Abigail asked as she took Darcy into her arms.
“I’m sure
Darcy will be glad to share the story but in the morning,” Aaron said.
“Now we all need our sleep.”
As Abigail and
Darcy made their way together up the stairs, the weakened young woman whispered
the details of the harrowing night.
“It was
horrible, Abigail,” she began. “Burt glared at me all evening long.
He was drinking, getting more surly with each gulp of liquor. I tried twice to
leave, but the man has a dark heart. If I’d only been stronger, I’m sure I’d
have gotten away. But then Aaron arrived. Put the wrath of God in Burt. Knocked
him out, tied him up and before we came home, he roused the sheriff to take
care of him tomorrow.”
By the time
Darcy had finished the sketchy tale, the two were in Darcy’s bedroom. Abigail
was pulling off her friend’s damp clothes and tossing a nightgown over her
shoulders. Pushing her into bed, she pulled a hefty comforter over Darcy’s
exhausted body.
“Abigail!”
Aaron spoke sharply from outside the door.
“Yes,
yes, I’m coming,” she replied.
“I’ll be
all right,” Darcy whispered to her. “I’m better, I really am, but I’m
so tired.” She didn’t have to say more, for she was fast asleep before
Abigail left the room. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Abigail
asked her stoic husband once she’d joined him in their bedroom.
“Talk about
tonight? No. There will be plenty of time to talk in the morning. Right now
you’re going to sleep and so am I.”
“Aaron
please, let me explain,” Abigail cried.
Aaron gazed up
at his sorrowful looking wife, but he wasn’t moved by her sad face.
“Explanations are not important now. But your growing up, my fair brat,
is. And that we’ll talk about in the morning.”
Aaron said no
more, but climbed into bed, making it clear that he expected Abigail to follow.
Fear and wonder filled her heart, as she thought about the punishment he was
likely to mete out. She could already feel a warm sensation on her bottom. What
was worse however, was what Aaron meant by “grow up”. She couldn’t be
sure what he had in mind. One thing she was sure of, their young marriage had
clearly taken a dramatic turn, and life in Aaron Barrow’s house was certain to
change.
Chapter
Five
Abigail and
Aaron Barrow sat at the kitchen table eating their breakfast in silence. All
Abby could think about was her horrible day with knife-wielding scoundrel, a
furious husband and a sick best friend. She had a lot to worry about.
“You’re going
to punish me, aren’t you?” Abigail said breaking the silence, as she sipped
from her mug of steaming coffee. She didn’t even want to think of how her poor
bottom was going to pay for this most recent travesty, but it was hard not to.
Aaron had already warned her she’d be disciplined before he went off to rescue
Darcy, and she knew this would be a harrowing one.
“You think I
need to?” Aaron asked her. For a man as angry as he’d been the night before, he
had an almost amused looked on his face as he eyed his penitent wife.
“Well, I was
sure you would,” she said. “After all the…”
“After all the
what? The lies, the deceit, the thievery, the utter stupidity of your plans
with Darcy?” He seemed to be enjoying giving her a full litany of her crimes.
“Aaron wait,”
another voice rang out. Darcy appeared in the doorway interrupting the couple’s
conversation. She looked dressed and ready to leave the house, with her satchel
of belongings in her hand. “Don’t punish her,” Darcy went on. “It’s really my
fault.”
Aaron eyed the
incorrigible brat for an instant, his expression quite stern. “What’s between
my wife and me, Darcy, is none of your business,” he said.
“Whip my ass
for this, Aaron,” Darcy said. “I’m sure it could use a good walloping right
now.”
“You’re right
about that,” Aaron agreed. “But right now, brat, you’re going to march your
sick body up to bed and get your rest. Your constitution wouldn’t take the
licking I’m going to give you. You need to get well.”
“No, Aaron.
I’ve got to leave now. I’m better off getting away from you and Abigail. All I
am is trouble.”
“Trouble you
are,” Aaron said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re your friends,
and if you weren’t so damn independent in the first place, you wouldn’t be in
this fix. Now get upstairs where you belong. And get well.” He was adamant.
It was rare to
see Darcy put in her place. But she didn’t seem to have the strength to argue
more. She trudged back up the stairs, and after watching her all the way, Aaron
turned back to his breakfast.
“So was this
all Darcy’s fault?” Aaron asked his wife. “You were just an innocent pawn in
her foolhardy games?”
“No, Aaron, it
wasn’t all Darcy’s fault,” Abigail admitted. “I was just so desperate.”
“Don’t you
suppose you could have told me at the beginning that she needed money? Do you
think I’d have denied her? Do you think I’d have left her to the wiles of that
vagrant, bully?”
“I… . I,
don’t know.”
For all his
calm earlier, Aaron’s temper was beginning to rise, but just slightly. He still
spoke in a calm measured voice.
“Well, you’d
better know, my love. You’re the most important thing to me in this life. What
troubles you, troubles me, what trials you face—even if they’re trials with the
likes of Darcy Greenwood—are trials that we’ll face together. If I can’t expect
honesty from you, always the absolute truth, then we don’t have much of a
marriage, do we?”
“No, I suppose
not,” Abigail said, a little taken aback by the ferocity of Aaron’s lecture.
“There’s no
doubt you’ll pay in many ways for this stupid stunt, but for now I want you to
think about your misadventure of the last few days and what it means for us.
When you’re ready to take the first installment of your correction, you come
get me.”
“You’re not
going to do it now?” she asked.
“No.”
“You’re going
to made me decide?”
“Yes.” His
grin was absolutely devious. The amusement that had begun their morning had
returned. And having finished his meal, Aaron rose from his seat and walked out
of the house, leaving a stunned Abigail to stew in the juices of what her
misguided behavior had wrought.
Abigail
wrestled with Aaron’s message most of the morning. The thought that she might
have averted the whole horror of the past week with just a little honesty had
never really occurred to her. She realized how one lie led to another, and
another, until she was so steeped in her deceit that there was no way out. What
was worst of all was how she’d disappointed Aaron. In spite of his sometimes
ruthless tactics to keep her in line, he did love her beyond words. The measure
of his love had been proven by his faithfulness to her, even when she was so
reckless with the truth. The more she thought of what her behavior had caused,
the more guilty she felt—as if she might have put her whole marriage in
jeopardy, even though it seemed that there was nothing that Aaron wouldn’t
forgive her for.
With all these
realizations, it felt as if she couldn’t remain the feisty adolescent anymore.
She was growing up, perhaps that was what Aaron was trying to tell her. If she
wanted her marriage with Aaron to succeed, there were some childish notions she
had to give up.