Winnie Griggs (13 page)

Chapter Thirteen

A
n hour later, Abigail returned with a decided spring to her step.

“What do you think?” Daisy asked. “Will the place serve your needs?”

“It’ll be perfect.” Abigail sat at the table, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll need some actual bookcases eventually, but I can probably stack my books on trunks and crates to start with. Hopefully the mercantile will have cardstock that I can use to make my individual book and patron records. And I can find a bandbox or some such to keep my files in.”

It sounded as if Abigail had given this a lot of thought. “As I said, you’re welcome to use anything you find in my storeroom until you can acquire better.”

“Thanks. Once I’ve earned a little money, I can hire someone to build shelves.”

Daisy found herself admiring the girl’s spirit. “So what do you see as your next step?”

“I’ll need to catalog my books. Then I’ll set up my system for tracking who has what. Fortunately, I already have notebooks that I should be able to make do with.”

“That sounds like quite an undertaking.” It was also something Abigail could occupy herself with before setting up the physical library.

“Yes, but only to set it all up. Once I have it in place, it will be done.” She leaned her elbows on the table. “Miss Abernathy and Miss Teel used different systems, but I think I prefer Miss Abernathy’s. She arranged the nonfiction books by subject and the fiction books by author.”

“That’s similar to the way my grandmother had her books arranged.”

Abigail gave her a speculative look. “I don’t mean to pry, but you get this strange tone in your voice when you mention your grandmother.”

The girl was perceptive. “I was never very comfortable in my grandmother’s home. Everything there was very formal, very elegant and fancy. And I was anything but.”

“You have something much better than all that,” the girl said earnestly. “You have a natural warmth and grace about you that puts everyone at ease.”

Daisy blinked at the unexpected compliment. “What a nice thing to say.”

“Oh, it’s true.” Then Abigail grimaced. “But I know what you mean. It sounds like Miss Haversham’s school. I felt as if I didn’t have room to breathe, to be myself.”

Daisy felt that surge of sympathetic kinship again. If only Everett could hear what his sister was saying, both the words and the tone, maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to send her back.

* * *

Everett had paused halfway up the stairs, unabashedly eavesdropping when he heard Daisy talking about her grandmother. But her words, rather than satisfying his curiosity, only stirred it further.

Abigail’s words, on the other hand, gave him something else to think about. Had she truly felt so stifled? Or was it merely adolescent theatrics?

He resumed his climb. “What are you two up to?”

Daisy smiled brightly. “Just girl-talk. You’re right on time—I’ll have the meal on the table in a moment.” She moved to the cupboard to fetch a large serving bowl.

Abigail popped up. “I’ll set the table while you dish everything up.”

Everett watched the easy camaraderie between his sister and Daisy with mixed emotions. He’d become less judgmental of Daisy, but he still didn’t want the peddler’s daughter’s rough edges to rub off on his sister. He’d worked too hard to see that she turned into a young lady who would be welcome in any society drawing room.

This was yet another reason why the sooner he could move out of Turnabout and into more civilized surroundings, the better. It was time he started putting a few more feelers out to larger newspapers.

Once they were seated and Daisy had said grace with her usual down-to-earth eloquence, they dug into the meal.

Abigail passed the basket of rolls to Daisy. “I saw the pretty embroidery work hanging in your place,” she said with a smile. “Did you do that yourself?”

Daisy shook her head. “Thank you, but no. That’s some of my mother’s work.”

Everett frowned at his sister. “What were you doing at Daisy’s place?”

Abigail flushed guiltily. “I was looking for something to do earlier, so I went over there to look around.”

“That was presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I didn’t mind,” Daisy said quickly. “In fact, I think I may have suggested it.”

A look passed between the two of them that gave Everett the feeling they were up to something.

“Besides,” Daisy added quickly, “Kip was glad of the company.”

“About that, Everett.” Abigail straightened. “Why won’t you let Kip over here? He seems such a well-behaved animal.”

“We’ve had this conversation before. Animals belong outdoors, not in one’s home.” This was one point he intended to hold firm on. “If Daisy chooses to keep her pet in her home, that’s her business, but that doesn’t mean I should make an exception for my home.”

“But you’re being so unreasonable.” Abigail gave him a mutinous look.

“Don’t argue on my account, Abigail,” Daisy said quickly. “It’s truly no hardship for Kip to stay on my side of the wall.”

Abigail huffed and then dipped her spoon in her bowl. “I still think it’s unnecessarily restrictive.”

Everett didn’t respond, but neither did he relent. Getting attached to that dog would just be one more tie she’d mourn when she had to leave. And he knew from experience just how quickly one could grow fond of a pet. No, he would not put his sister through that.

* * *

Once the meal was over and Everett returned to his office, Daisy began clearing the table. She still had so much work to do at her own place, and she was eager to get back to it.

Abigail wandered over to one of her trunks of books. “It’s kind of difficult to decide where to start.”

Daisy was feeling guilty about hiding their activities from Everett. “When are you going to discuss your plans with your brother again?”

Abigail grimaced. “I’m not sure. You saw how he was with Kip. Once he makes his mind up about something, it’s hard to change it.” She gave Daisy a just-between-us look. “I need to pick my moment carefully.”

Daisy understood the sentiment, but firmly believed there needed to be more honest communication between the siblings. “Well, you might want to give it a shot before you put too much more effort into it.”

“I don’t know. Maybe if he could see it first...”

“What do you mean?”

Abigail lifted a couple of books from her trunk. “Maybe I should set the stage—you know, arrange some books on the table and set up a few entries in my catalog. If Everett could actually see how well I’ve thought this through, and how serious I am, rather than just having him imagine it, he might be more inclined to approve the idea.”

“I see.” And she did. Because, behind all of Abigail’s scheming, she saw a girl who was trying to earn the approval of her brother.

“So it’s all right with you if I bring some of my books downstairs and set the stage for him?”

“Of course.” Everett would probably think she was interfering again, but Daisy thought Abigail deserved a shot at convincing him. And, assuming Everett didn’t dismiss it out of hand, perhaps it would get them talking to each other the way they had at the picnic yesterday. “Once I get done with these dishes, I’ll be happy to help you.”

Abigail shook her head with a smile. “Thank you, but I know you have your own projects to get to. I can take care of this.”

The girl disappeared into her room, then reappeared with an armload of books. She smiled at Daisy as she headed for the adjoining door, giving Kip a friendly pat as she passed.

Daisy rubbed her cheek thoughtfully. How was Everett going to react when he saw how far his sister had taken her idea?

Daisy froze as she heard a loud cry and a clatter. A heartbeat later she was dashing through the doorway, a prayer racing through her head. “Abigail! Abigail, are you okay?”

No answer.

When she reached the top of the stairs, Daisy found out why. Abigail lay crumpled at the foot of the stairs amid a scattering of books. Kip was at her side, whimpering and nudging her gently with his nose.

Yelling over her shoulder for Everett, Daisy raced down the stairs, her pulse thudding loudly in her ears.
Dear God, please let her be all right. Please, please, please.

Just as Daisy reached the foot of the stairs, Abigail stirred and groaned. “Abigail, sweetheart, are you okay?”

The girl’s eyes fluttered open. “I...I think so.” She winced and groaned again. “What happened?”

“You must have fallen.” How far had she tumbled? How badly was she injured?

“What happened?” The staccato question came from Everett as he clattered down the stairs.

* * *

Everett aged ten years in the time it took him to get to the bottom of the stairs. He knelt beside Abigail, searching her much-too-pale face for signs of pain or disorientation. If she was seriously hurt, he’d never forgive himself. “Don’t try to move.” He heard the gruffness in his voice but was powerless to alter it. “Daisy,” he said without taking his eyes from his sister, “please get Dr. Pratt. Make sure he understands he needs to come immediately.”

With a nod and a last squeeze of Abigail’s hand, Daisy sprinted off.

Everett gently moved the hair from Abigail’s forehead. “Tell me where you hurt.”

She grimaced, and one hand fluttered. “I feel sore all over, but I think I’ll be all right if you just give me a minute to sit up and take stock.”

He held her down as she tried to sit up. “Lie still until Dr. Pratt has had a chance to look you over.”

“Please, I’d like to sit up. Lying here is undignified, and I promise to let you know if something seems amiss.”

Everett hesitated a moment, but couldn’t hold firm against the tears welling in her eyes. Keeping his hand square on her back, he held ready to lend additional support if she gave him the least cause to suspect she needed it as she awkwardly maneuvered herself into a sitting position.

“Ow!”

He searched her face. “What is it? Where does it hurt?”

She cupped her left wrist in her right hand. “I think I may have injured my wrist.” She smiled, but he could see the pain in her expression. “It looks like we may have matching injuries.”

Before Everett could question her further, Daisy and Dr. Pratt rushed in.

The doctor set his bag down and knelt beside Abigail, across from Everett. “Hello, young lady. I understand you took a tumble.”

Abigail gave him a wavery smile. “Yes, sir. Not very graceful of me, was it?”

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re not the first of my patients to take such a tumble, and I dare say you won’t be the last. Now, let’s have a look, shall we?”

“Her left wrist is bothering her.” Everett’s gut was still churning.
Please God, let that be the extent of it.

“Well, then, let’s have a look at that first.”

Eunice Ortolon, the woman who ran the boardinghouse, bustled in from the sidewalk. “Hello. I don’t mean to intrude, but I saw Doc come by all in a rush. I hope no one’s hurt.”

Everett gritted his teeth as the town busybody studied them with avidly curious eyes. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with that kind of distraction right now. But good manners won out. “My sister fell down the stairs,” he said.

The woman placed her hand to her heart. “Oh, my goodness. The poor dear. Is there anything I can do to help?”

He shook his head. “Thank you for the kind offer, but now that the doctor is here I think we have all the help we need.” He nodded dismissively and deliberately turned from her to the doctor.

Dr. Pratt stood. “At first glance she seems to have nothing worse than a sprained wrist and some bumps and bruises, but I’d like to conduct a more thorough examination.” He gave Everett a pointed look. “Perhaps we can find a place where she’ll be more comfortable while I do so.”

Everett nodded, eager to get his sister to a place with more privacy. “Of course. We can take her to her bedchamber—no, make that mine—the bed is larger.” He scooped his sister up and stood.

Abigail protested. “Really, Everett, I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

“Not until Dr. Pratt has completed his examination.”

“But your hand—”

“Is healing nicely. Now hush and be still.”

Daisy headed for the staircase. “I’ll make sure the room is ready. Doctor, if you’ll just come this way.”

Everett followed the two of them more slowly, careful not to jar his sister. The whole time he held her, he wanted to squeeze her tight, to protect her against other dangers. This was the second time in a matter of days that she’d given him a fright. He was her brother and her guardian—he was supposed to protect her, but it didn’t appear he was doing a very good job of it. Why did his well-ordered world seem to be crumbling around him lately?

By the time he reached his bedchamber, Daisy had the covers turned down and the pillows plumped up. Once Abigail was settled in, Dr. Pratt turned to him and Daisy. “Why don’t you leave me and Miss Abigail? I’ll call you when I’ve finished.”

Everett wanted to protest. He wasn’t ready to let Abigail out of his sight.

But Daisy touched his arm lightly and gave him a reassuring nod. “Let’s let the doc do his job.”

Everett gave a short nod. “Of course.”

As he and Daisy stepped out of the room, however, he received yet another jolt of surprise. Mrs. Ortolon stood in his kitchen, eyeing the place speculatively. Apparently, rather than leave when he’d dismissed her, she had followed them upstairs.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked with a bright smile.

Everett struggled to maintain his composure. “That’s very thoughtful, but as I said, I think we have it under control now.”

“Of course.” Her gaze shifted from one to the other of them in a way that set the hair on the nape of his neck vibrating. What did that look mean? What was she thinking?

Then, with a mental groan, it suddenly hit him how compromising this must look to her. The doors between Daisy’s and his living quarters were propped wide open. Daisy had entered his place from hers without hesitation, had entered
his bedchamber
without hesitation. He knew it had all been perfectly innocent, that Daisy’s only thought had been for Abigail, but one could see any number of scenarios in this, and not all of them were entirely innocent.