Abigail's Secret (A Whimsical Select Romance Novella) (3 page)

That took all the bluster out of her.  She wondered how
a family member who had known her the whole of her life didn’t recognize her, despite her physical changes.  But then again, they had spent very little time together as children and even less once grown.  With Thomas nearly ten years her senior, they had very little common interests as they grew up.  Nonetheless, it hurt her feelings when she fully grasped that the only living family member she had left in the world didn’t identify her as kin.

“
Tommy, it’s me, Abigail,” she said, nearly in tears.

“Abigail?”
  Thomas walked cautiously toward her until he stood in front of her.  He considered her from head to heel.  She stood before him as he examined her in her slimming green silk moire patterned gown, accented with black velvet.  She nervously twiddled a curl from her chestnut hair.  “Truly,
you
are Abigail?” He didn’t look convinced.  Thomas looked down into her eyes and smiled.  “Dash, Abigail, if not for your sapphire eyes in so much resemblance to that of our mother’s, I’d call you a fibber.”  His smile grew wider on his face and he grabbed her into his arms and hugged her tight.  “Welcome home, Abigail.  You look exceedingly fetching in your new trim skin.”

She returned his embrace but
quickly pushed him away.  “Oh Thomas,” she said with a heavy sigh. “What were you thinking to announce the terms of my dowry?  And worse, give me away in a poker game to Brice Winslow?  We both darn well know that you never lose in cards unless you’re intentionally trying to give something away.”  Abigail reached up and twisted his ear, hard. “That was deserved,” she replied when his stunned expression turned to irritation.

“I
would’ve deserved that if I was eight, Abigail, I’m now thirty-eight.”  He rubbed his ear and guided Abigail to the settee on the other side of the room.  “I apologize, Abigail.  I never expected such mayhem to arise over your dowry, I swear it.”

“Now that it has, you need to correct it.”

“And how do you propose I do that?  I cannot rescind your dowry, as I haven’t the authority since it’s stated in our father’s will.”

She
groaned out her frustration and Thomas sat looking all balled up inside.  Abigail smiled forgivingly at him and patted his hand.  “It’s all right, Thomas.  Perhaps it’s best if I just return home to Baltimore.  In time, all will settle and return back to normal.”

“You
’re not able to do that either, Abigail.”

“Why in the world not?”

Thomas
anxiously shifted his position on the settee several times until he stood and walked back to his desk.  He ruffled through some papers inside a drawer until he retrieved and held a telegram in his hand. Protectively covering the ear that was nearest Abigail, he sat down beside her.

“
That,” he said as he handed her the message, “Is just one of many I received from our Northern friends.” Thomas winced before he added, “News has reached Baltimore about your dowry and has been published in
The Baltimore Sun
.  Since the day you left, men have been lining up for several city blocks at your residence.”  After his confession, Thomas held his ear tighter than a calf’s mouth to its mother’s teat and he cautiously leaned away from Abigail.

Abigail tw
eaked his nose, and even harder than she had previously done so with his ear.  “You’ve ruined my life, Thomas,” she moaned.

“It wasn’t my intent, Abigail,
” he nasally returned as he tightly held the tip of his nose.

The door
to Thomas’s study hurled open and rebounded off the adjoining wall’s oak wainscoting and then slammed shut with Brice Winslow inside.  His manly good looks were enough to take Abigail’s breath away, but it was the surprise of his abrupt entrance that caught the air within her lungs.  He charged to the middle of the room and was angrier than a bag full of snakes.

“Where the hell is Abigail?” he demanded,
and he glowered down at Thomas.  Abigail stepped protectively behind the settee.  Brice’s hands rested on his hips and frustration etched deep within his brow.  Thomas cleared his throat and walked toward Brice.  Abigail thought her brother was a fool if not frightened of the massive man who loomed threateningly over him, yet she watched Thomas as he kept his ground and stood in front of Brice, unafraid.

“What is the meaning of this?” Abigail countered
.  She feared that if she didn’t intervene, her brother may entice the already irritated Brice Winslow into a physical altercation.

“He owes me a bride, and
yet again another day has passed and she hasn’t arrived.  I just came from the station and she’s not on today’s stage either, nor has she come by way of rail.  Have you not yet informed her that I’m willing to marry her?”

“Willing?” Abigail repeated
, annoyed.

Brice was almighty mad and
Abigail rounded the settee and stood in front of him.  She placed a consolatory hand upon his shoulder and forced a smile up at him.  Abigail didn’t expect her mouth to go suddenly dry or the lump that formed in her throat by the feel of his muscular frame beneath his frock coat.  And she certainly didn’t expect the chill that coursed through her body by her slightest touch upon him.  Yet what astounded Abigail the most was when Brice Winslow returned her smile. It showed interest and desire when he looked into her eyes.  But that didn’t remain long.

“Perhaps Abigail isn’t
as eager to make her way down the aisle with you, as you are with her.  Have you considered that, Mister Winslow?”

Brice looked as if she slapped him. 
Abigail supposed he indeed did not consider that a possibility.  She also concluded that Brice Winslow lost any inkling of fancies for her when his stare turned cold. His eyes shadowed beneath his top hat and his face reddened with anger.

“As you do not know Abigail, I’m not rightly sure how this pertains to you,
ma’am,” he heatedly countered.

“Actually, Mister Winslow, I know Abigail a great much better than you.”

Brice eyed her with suspicion.  “As you are new to this town, ma’am, I’m rightly curious to know how that could be.”

“Because I am Ab
—”

“
—Abilene.  Because she is my cousin, Abilene Large,” Thomas quickly interrupted.

Abigail looked at her brother
inquisitively but then an ornery smile reached her lips.  “Yes, I’m Abilene, and being familiar with my cousin rightly well, I know she’d be almighty upset over what is taking place in this town.”

“And have you spoken to her?” Brice asked eagerly.  “Is she on her way back to Charlotte?”

Abigail looked at Thomas but he wasn’t any help.  He only shrugged and added an encouraged nod forward for her to continue her unprepared cock-and-bull story.  “Yes,” she finally replied.  “She’ll be returning within the week or shortly thereafter.”

“
Then we shall wait until then.  You will hear for yourself that she’ll eagerly accept me as her husband,” he boasted.  By his cavalier tone, he clearly believed that she’d not refuse him.  He broadened his arrogant smile. “I think you’ll be quite surprised to learn how rightly wrong you are in the matters of the heart where Abigail Large is concerned.”

The temptation to reveal she was Abigail nearly toppled her into a confession. 
Abigail walked to the door and leaned against it, and strongly demonstrated that it was time for him to take his leave when she pitched and positioned her arm forward toward the hall.  “Well, Mister Brice Winslow, we shall see in the week to come.  As I have an exceptional insight in the matters of the heart, as well as that of my dear cousin Abigail, I shall have the cook prepare humble pie, as I’m sure you’ll be in need of a very large slice.”

Brice
scowled at her.  “Until then,” he said tersely and tipped his hat and strode out the door. 

Abigail slammed it
shut behind him.

“Truly,” she nearly growled.  “Whatever did I see in that man?”

“Abigail,” Thomas said excitedly.  “Do you see what a great opportunity you have here?”

“No, Thomas,
I can’t say I do,” she replied.

“Did you not notice how
Mister Winslow looked at you?”

“
As if I killed his favorite mutt?”

“No,” h
e said.  “He was clearly attracted to you, and whether you’ll declare it aloud or not, you are equally interested him.”

“Surely, he was not; and most certainly I am not,” she said, appalled.

“Surely, he was,” he countered, “And most definitely you are,’ he smiled. “Abigail, if you can persuade Brice to fall in love with you as Abilene, it’d prove his utter true love for you as he would believe that he is forfeiting Abigail’s dowry.”

Abigail
’s smile quickly advanced into a chuckle.  “Oh, Thomas, you are wicked.  Surely that would be very unfair to do, even to Brice Winslow.  Although, he would most definitely deserve it,” she added.

“
It’s my fault and I am truly sorry, Abigail, but the fact remains that from here out you’ll never know who justly loves you unless we make sport of this situation.  You’ll never be able to discern if a man loves you or that of your dowry.”

“That is a
rightly smart opinion to consider, Thomas.”

“Do you recall
, sister, when that circus came to town about ten years ago?”

Abigail rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed.  “How
could I ever forget?  The fat lady and I looked so similar that I didn’t think I’d ever hear the end of the bantering.”  Sadness overwhelmed her until the anger within her sufficiently rose.  “Indeed, the townspeople were at their cruelest for many, many months thereafter.  What horrible creature they all are.”

“Then let’s
take our revenge, my dearest sister,” he said, and smiled wide.  “We will locate and hire that woman—Tiny Tess, I recall— and see if she’s willing to portray herself as Abigail Large.  We’ll have her show an incredible fancy toward whatever gentleman is to your liking—whether it is Brice or another—and then we’ll see if
Abilene
can lure him away from her dowry.”

“
Not to offend you, Thomas, but you have always been dull as ditch water,” she said.  “You’ve always and only have been concerned with business, especially since the Yankees won the war.  I am truly shocked by your suggestion.  What has come over you?”

“Yes, I have, but I feel it’s time for me to seek some
amusement, and perhaps get a little bit back from those damn carpetbaggers in the progress.  In a matter of days, Mecklenburg County has become a spectacle by the crowds assembling from every neighboring county to seek marriage for the single purpose of your dowry.  Do you not see that as despicable?  I say these people have it coming!”

“Do you truly think we can pull this off?”

“I most definitely do.”

Abigail sat down on the settee and thought hard and long about the people of Mecklenburg County.  She could barely recall a single act of kindness among any of them, and worse, their cruelty had no limitations.  It never helped matters
that she possessed the surname of Large.  She didn’t want to recall all the manner of yarns she had endured by that cruel twist of fate.  As she pondered on the contradictory behavior of the townspeople from that time to her present, her ire grew into hellfire furious.  “I think you may be right,” she said absently.  Then with more conviction she rose and gave him a terse nod.  “No, you are right, Thomas.  Let’s teach this town a lesson they’ll not soon forget.”

             
Robert E. Lee’s visit through Charlotte in 1870 paled in comparison to the ballyhoo that arose by Tiny Tess’s debut as Abigail Large.  She arrived on the rail from Wilmington to Charlotte.  As she was unable to fit in the train’s passenger cabin, Thomas had arranged that a private boxcar be supplied with furniture and luxuries and it accommodated her outsized figure nicely.

People lingered on and around the tracks
for nearly a mile, and they peered down the railway in anticipation of the locomotive’s three o’clock arrival.  The smoke off its engines puffed out large white clouds into the distant sky and silently announced it was soon to be there.  When it neared the station, the engineer released the train’s steam trumpet and it blew out its six-chime warning.  The train’s brakes squealed in protest as it slowed into the station.  Men, women, and children whom gathered from afar, as well as within their community, eagerly waited for Abigail Large to make her departure from the train.

With
Tess’s arrival came fireworks, barbecues, musical bands, street merchants, and more possible suitors than any one woman rightly deserved.  The moment the train stopped at the station, the musicians sang out their welcoming song of
Buffalo Gals
, which they appropriately altered to Charlotte, Abigail’s hometown.

As I was walking down the street

Down the street, down the street,

A pretty gal I chance to meet

Under the silvery moon.