Stephanie Mittman (22 page)

“How long ago was that? Have you missed your
monthly yet?” Emily asked. “Did Frank hurt you? Did he make you—”

“Last night,” Abby said. “And it wasn’t Frank, and I threw up this morning and my headache’s worse than ever.”

“Last night? Oh, Abby! You’ve probably just made yourself sick with worry. And well you should be.” And then the shock at what she’d said set in. “What do you mean, it wasn’t Frank?”

“I’m marrying Seth,” she said, and suddenly the idea that she might be carrying his child wasn’t such a scary thought, wasn’t scary at all, in fact.

Emily crossed her arms and tapped at her forearm with perfectly manicured fingers. “Seth! Seth compromised you? He took advantage of you? Dr. Hendon?”

“He didn’t take advantage of me, Em. It was more like the other way round. He’s going to marry me.”

“And does
Seth
know that?”

“He asked me before we—” Abby made a futile gesture with her hand. There were certainly nice words for what they had done on that little cot in the back room at the
Herald
but she couldn’t think of any, sitting there with Emily in her lovely parlor with the fancy satin couch and the bone china tea set.

“Oh, I’ll just bet he did,” Emily said. “I bet he told you that he loved you, too.”

Abby smiled and squeezed her shoulders up as if she were hugging herself.

“And where is he this morning?” Emily asked. “And did he make sure you wouldn’t get pregnant?” she demanded.

Abby looked at her sister-in-law. If Seth had, she
wasn’t aware of it, didn’t know how that was accomplished, and didn’t really care. “Will you help me plan the wedding? Mother will want to have some sort of potluck thing and Seth deserves something elegant, don’t you think?”

“I think he doesn’t deserve the right time of day,” Emily said. “He certainly didn’t deserve what he got last night.”

“Emily, I have loved Seth Hendon for years. And now he loves me back. Please be happy for me. We have to plan this wedding right away, before I begin to show. I wouldn’t have anyone saying nasty things about my son.”

“A son now,” Emily said, grimacing. “But then, I suppose the wonderful Dr. Hendon shouldn’t have to settle for a girl, should he?”

Abby put her hands on her stomach. “I’m sure he’ll love whatever—”

“Abidance, you aren’t pregnant. Or if you are, you can’t know it yet. You have to miss your monthly first, and even then you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is that if Seth Hendon doesn’t marry you, you’re going to have some fancy explaining to do to the man who does. They don’t believe that story about it happening when you were riding astride a horse, you know.”

“I’m not pregnant?” Abby asked, feeling empty instead of relieved. “But I couldn’t hold down my breakfast, Em.”

“Didn’t you read ‘Ask the Doctor’? It was probably something you ate last night that your system couldn’t
digest. Of course, you could always ask your beau,” Emily added with some disdain.

“Just because you and Ansel could wait,” Abby said, and watched as a deep red flush crawled up Emily’s neck and settled into her cheeks.

“You aren’t the first woman who hoped to catch a man that way, Abidance, but not all men are so … You can have the wedding reception here, if you want,” Emily said, unable to look her straight in the eye. “But Dr. Hendon had better talk to Ansel and tell him he means to marry you. And he better go ask your father for your hand—right away, before you find yourself in trouble.”

“I’m sure he will,” she said, wishing that she meant it. Seth didn’t like to do things by the book. He’d probably think it was old-fashioned to ask for her father’s permission. He might not even want a wedding. He might just want to go to Sioux City and get married by a justice of the peace.

“You do look like you’re coming down with something,” Emily said, frowning at her.

“I’m fine,” Abby said. She said it then, she’d said it in the morning, she said it all the time. “Really,” she added, and realized that she always said that, too.

“Listen to the voice of experience,” Emily said, leaning close to her and keeping her voice low. “It gets better.”

Abby covered the flush in her cheeks with her hands.
Better?
How could it ever be better?

“Getting to know another person takes time,” she said softly. “You think you’re in love now—just wait until you’re married!”

“This is ridiculous,” Seth told himself as he hurriedly finished the article on headaches for the
Herald
. He didn’t need an excuse to go next door and see Abidance. And if he did, setting a date would be excuse enough.

Still, he felt awkward, like some kid. How was he supposed to have a normal conversation with her in front of Ansel when he’d held her naked in his arms and poured himself into her?

He ended the article on a hopeless note and knew he’d get the dickens from Abby about his gloom. She wanted everything curable, everything fixable. Put a bandage on it and make it better, even if it was something pernicious eating away at someone’s very life.

He’d convinced Mrs. Thomas to nurse the Denton baby, and had set himself the smallest of goals. Just keep the child alive until Dr. Bartlett arrived and maybe
he’d
be able to save the baby.

Dr. Bartlett. Now, there was another subject he could discuss with Abby. He grabbed his hat and article and headed next door.

Ansel’s back was to him, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. On his right arm was a slash of black ink. When he turned to see that it was Seth who’d come in, he brushed the hair out of his eyes with his forearm and left a thick black mark there, as well.

“Slipped a gear,” he said, looking down at his blackened hands. “You need something?”

“Abby around?” he asked, feeling his heart quicken at the thought of seeing her.

“Went to see Emily,” Ansel said. “She seemed kind of upset. You know anything about that?”

“No,” he said honestly. “I surely don’t.” If he were Abby and he hadn’t gotten a letter from Dr. Ephraim Bartlett, hadn’t had to go see to Jimmy Denton failing, he’d have still been flying high as a kite after the time they’d spent together last night.

“Knowing Emily, she’ll make her stay for lunch. I expect she’ll be in this afternoon.”

Seth nodded. He wanted to see her now. Wanted to hold her now. “I’ll just leave the next column on her desk,” he said, passing Ansel and going into the back room, where the cot lay empty except for a stray cat, and the candles were nowhere to be seen.

He heard her footsteps on his porch and felt the smile come naturally to his lips. What a joy not to have to fight happiness anymore, to allow himself the pleasures that Abby, and life, had to offer.

He rose as she entered his office, watched as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness inside after the bright sunshine of the glorious day. If he believed in messages from heaven, he’d imagine that the day was a blessing.
If
he believed …

“Oh, but it’s dark in here!” Abby said, removing her hat and shaking out the curls he longed to run his fingers through. “I can hardly see a thing.”

“Feel your way,” he teased, standing in front of her and raising her hands to rest on his chest. Up they inched, making their way to his collar, near the nick by
his Adam’s apple, his jaw, until they rested on either side of his lips.

“Found you,” she said, coming up on her toes and touching her lips to his own. It was the merest of brushes, not more than a taste, and when he tried to deepen it, she nearly lost her balance. He made sure she was on solid footing before asking if she wanted to go looking for any other parts of him, raising her hand to him again and sensing a shyness that was new between them.

He let his hands wander down her shoulders as if he were actually helping her with her cape, and stopped when she gave a little shake to her head.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied, sounding like a typical female, but not like his Abby at all.

He took a step back and looked at her hard, seeing the blush on her face and the quick blinking of her eyes. “Nothing? You’re obviously upset about something, Abby. Why not tell me?”

“Last night changed things, Seth,” she said softly, as if she were embarrassed by what had happened between them.

“They did indeed,” he agreed, trying to pull her into his arms and finding her body willing, but her manner nervous. “Are you afraid my feelings have changed?” he asked, assuring her with kisses against the top of her head that they hadn’t. “That now that I’ve been with you …”

“Say it,” she demanded of him, pulling her head back so that she could look into his eyes.

“Say what?” he teased, toying with her curls, his fingers brushing her neck and feeling her body melt against his.

“I need to hear it,” she said, “to know that I didn’t just imagine what you said last night.”

“You silly girl,” he said, feeling the effects of holding her too closely, inhaling her scent too deeply. “There aren’t words,” he murmured, holding her head in his hands, tipping it back, stopping her from pulling away while he kissed her as deeply as he needed to.

And she kissed him back, hostage to the same desires he felt, wanting just what he wanted, wishing as hard as he was that it was night and they could sneak away upstairs so he could show her instead of tell her just how much he felt.

“The words don’t exist,” he told her, feeling the soft warmth of her breast through her shirtwaist and wishing he could strip her naked in the light and see the beauty and the glory that was meant for him alone.

“Find some,” she demanded, putting her arms between them within his embrace, trying to recover her breath and her dignity.

“I love you, Abidance Merganser. With this meager heart and this pitiful soul, I love every blessed thing about you.”

“And you’ll talk to my father?” she asked timidly.

“Absolutely,” he said, unbuttoning her top button and kissing the hollow at the base of her neck. “But later. Not at this moment, Abby girl.”

“But you will?” she pressed, as if she didn’t believe his intentions were honorable in the least.

Over her head he could see Jim Denton wiping his
cheeks with the back of his hand as he came down the street heading for Seth’s office. With more regret than he could put into words, he set Abby from him and straightened his tie. “I’ve got patients,” he said, nodding toward the door.

“I’m sure you do,” she said. “But you’re exhausting mine!”

“You better get going now,” he said, wrapping her shawl around her. “I left a column for you at the
Herald
.”

She nodded and looked at him wistfully, as if there were more she wanted to say, but Jim Denton was opening the door and before Seth had the chance to tell her that he was looking forward to seeing her later, she was out the door and gone.

She’d gone to the mercantile and flipped through the latest magazines, looking for wedding dress patterns. Then she’d stopped by the milliner’s and tried on hats. Since she and Seth hadn’t set a date, she’d said nothing to Mrs. Winston, nor to Frank, but they both knew why that silly smile was plastered on her face. She whiled away several hours before returning to the
Herald
, where Ansel gave her little more than a nod as he tinkered with a balking press.

And then she read Seth’s column. And then she read it again, just to be sure she hadn’t missed some small word that would change everything back to the way the world had been before she’d walked into the back room at the
Herald
.

The last paragraph refused to change, no matter how
hard she squinted at it, with her glasses on or without them, through her tears or when she wiped them momentarily away:

Abby pressed against the pain in her forehead, feeling with her fingertips for what she knew must be there. She couldn’t see her hand, resting just above her eyes. She couldn’t see it until she moved it to nearly in front of her face. She remembered tripping down Seth’s steps, falling two days ago when she got up suddenly from bed.
Sense of balance is affected
.

Seven percent surviving!

Disturbances in taste
. This morning Emily’s biscuits had tasted like sawdust to her. She couldn’t remember the last time something had tasted good to her. Except Seth’s kisses.

Seth.

She swallowed hard, willing her tears away. This would kill him as surely and as finally as it would kill her.