Abigail's Secret (A Whimsical Select Romance Novella) (9 page)

“I am quite pleased with myself,” she
claimed.  “I beg to differ with your assessment.”

“Truly, Abigail?” he asked.  “
We’ve yet to meet without you revealing your hostility towards those in this town,” he argued. “You have been here for a couple weeks thus far.  Aside from Maggie Rush, how many people have you called on or have come callin’ since your arrival?”

“What is your point, Mister Winslow?” she said angrily.  “Are you suggesting
that I have no friends?” she asked insulted.

“Yes, Abigail. That is exactly what I am stating.  You won’t allow anyone
to get close enough to befriend you.  You’ll also not allow those you once knew to make apology for the injustices they had caused you.  Although you’ll not believe it, there are many in town who regret their actions as children.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he said with mirthless laughter.  “That would involve you having faith in someone else.”  Brice shook his head and raised his arms in surrender. “You’ll never change, Abigail.  You were of the same wretched disposition years ago.  It made you less desirable then and even more unattractive now that you’ve lost your weight and still haven’t the gumption to live life happily as intended.” 

Abigail glared at him.  She couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to attack her so cruelly with his words. 
“But yet I’m not so undesirable that you’d sacrifice losing my dowry by walking away,” she angrily accused.

“I
ndeed, Abigail, I would and I shall do just that.  I could never love a woman who thinks so little of herself.”  He stood up and retrieved his hat from the settee and placed it onto his head.  He walked to the doorway to leave but turned around.  He sighed heavily. “Do know, Abigail, that my words are not intended to hurt you.”

“I’d thank you to leave your cogitations to yourself
the next time we meet, Mister Winslow.”  Tears flowed from Abigail’s eyes and she turned away.  Moments later, she heard the main door close.

Brice was gone.

*                  *                    *

Abigail
straightened in her seat and smoothed over the wrinkles in her cream and gold gown.  She sat next to Tess who was an image of radiance in her bright yellow day gown accessorized by matching gloves and hat.  The both chased the heat away with their fans even though the newly erected platform was built with a roof and helped shade them from the sun. 

“I think I shall move around a bit,” she said to Abigail.  “I fear I’ll have a puddle of sweat beneath me if I sit much longer.”  Yet when Tess stood
, the wood beneath her feet began to squeak and squeal in protest.  The crowd that stood at the edge of the podium stepped back and gasped, fearing that the structure would collapse.

Tess walked toward the crowd and laughed aloud.  “I’ve often been told at socials that my wit can bring down the house.  Perhaps we’ll now see it in a more literal sense.”

The crowd returned to the edge of the podium and joined her laughter.

“Do not fear, my friends, the platform was built by our own Dickerson Lumber Company here in Mecklenburg.
”  She slightly raised her skirts and took her foot and stomped hard onto the Mahogany wood flooring.  “Best craftsmanship in the South!” she exclaimed.

The people in the crowd cheered and applauded.  Tess never ceased to amaze Abigail with her ability to turn her
oversized condition into a positive note.  The woman had flash, and Abigail admired her greatly for that. If she was still as overweight as Tess, Abigail wouldn’t have given the same reaction.  No, the moment that first squeak whined out, she would have ran and hidden herself away from those who could mock her.  She had a lot to learn from Tess.  In fact, she realized, she had a lot to learn from Brice too.

He was right.

“Do not fret, Abigail,” Tess whispered as she returned to her seat.  “All is not lost.”  She nudged Abigail’s arm and nodded in a direction that revealed Brice Winslow leaning aside a portico beam in order to watch the drawing’s announcement.

“He’s not here for me, I assure you,” Abigail said.  “He is probably hoping his name is drawn so he might spend time with you.  I think he has truly taken a fancy to you.  Unlike me, he’d have married you.”

“Oh, dear Abigail,” she laughed.  “You truly are inexperienced in these matters.”

“Yes, I confess I am, but Brice left no room for doubt o
f his feelings.  He dislikes me greatly for who I am.”

“
It’s not about whom you are, Abigail,” she said kindly.  “It’s about the person within you that you’re afraid to show to others…as well as to yourself.”  Tess patted her hand.  “Today, I expect you to do nothing but laugh, play, and have good conversation while at the barbecue.  Believe in yourself and those around you will follow your lead.”

“You’re right, and I shall do exactly as you have said.  Today is a fresh start.”

Tess pointed toward a fine looking gentleman that didn’t seem particular enthused with the festivities, and in fact, looked outright bored.  Tess glanced at Abigail and her smile broadened wide into the most ornery grin she’d ever seen.  “As Mister Winslow is here, now is a good time to begin your introductions with others so he may see your progress.”

“With another gentleman?” she asked.  Her mouth opened wide and she quickly closed it.  “I don’t believe that was Brice’s intent
ions when he stated I needed to open up to others.”

“No, I suppose not, but I
warrant he’ll notice right quickly of your growth in this matter,” she said, and added a hard wink.

“I believe you are right,
” Abigail grinned. 

Abigail rose
from her seat and descended the steps that led to the man. She had never approached a man so brazenly. Even in Baltimore she kept to herself and never socialized.  Her days and nights consisted of working and sleeping with nothing else in-between. 

She approached the man cautiously and smiled
when she reached his side.

He tipped his hat and returned the smile.  “Miss Abilene,” he said, and she wasn’t
the least surprised that he knew her name.  Most people in town were well aware that she was Tess’s constant companion.

“
May I be so bold and ask your name, sir?” she asked politely.  His face was more favorable than she first assessed from atop the platform.  He had the brightest and lightest blue eyes she’d ever seen and his dark brown hair was trimmed perfectly with an overabundant tuft of hair on top that waved attractively across his forehead.

“Phillip McK
enzie,” he said tipping his hat.

“Have you p
urchased many tickets in the raffle?” she asked.

The man laughed
and dismissively waved his arm. “I haven’t a single ticket.  I’m here visiting my brother for a couple weeks and am just passing through town. Unlike these other fools,” he said nodding to the crowd, “I’m not hell bent on finding a wife, no matter how large a purse.”

“That is most refreshing to hear, Mister McKenzie.”
Abigail stepped back to avoid her feet from being trampled by the men who stood in front of them.  Yet her hasty movement caused her to trip and Phillip reached out and prevented her fall.  She held on tight to his arms as he embraced her.  The broad expanse of his muscles beneath were nearly, if not more impressive than that of Brice’s. She quickly set her feet right and released her hold of him.

“Oh, Miss Abilene, we’ve not yet known each other five minutes and you’re already throwing yourself at me,” he teased.  “I’m duly flattered.”

“One would think I have partaken in the darker side of today’s festivities,” she said as she nodded upward to show the saloon sign above them.

Phillip
grinned and winked at her. “Do not close your options too early, Miss Abilene, the day is still quite young,” he said, and his smile widened when she contrived a look of being offended.

Abigail decided immediately that she liked the man.  His character, although a bit unconventional in her parts, was exactly what she needed.
He was lively, conversational, and most of all fun. 

“
So tell me, Miss Abilene, being so close to Abigail, what is your opinion over all this madness that her dowry has drawn?”

“I find it quite distasteful, Mister McKenzie.”

“Phillip,” he offered.

“Well, Phillip, I find there are many men here whom would just as quickly discard poor Abigail once they set hands on her dowry.”

“Can they do that?  There are no provisions within the trust to prevent such?”

“Yes, there are, but a woman can easily be cast aside whilst married. I suppose many of the men here wouldn’t hesitate to do such.”
 

From the corner of her eyes, she
noticed that Brice had made his way closer to her and Phillip.  Not even an arm’s length away.  He was well within earshot of their conversation, despite the chatter among the crowd.

“Attention,” Thomas called from the podium. “We will now be drawing the name
of the lucky gentleman who will accompany Miss Abigail to the barbeque, as well as win a day of courting.”  

After
the crowds’ cheers and halloos had died down, Phillip looked at Abigail.  “If you have no other plans, I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to the barbeque after the drawing.”

Abigail looked straight at Brice who clearly heard the invitation
since the crowd was in a dead silence in anticipation of the winning name announced. Brice scowled and shook his head, clearly indicating that she should decline the man’s offer.

“I’d be very pleased to accept, Phillip.”

Phillip offered his arm and Abigail happily received it. “If you are as uninterested as I am to hear the winner, I suggest we get an early start to the Large estate for that barbeque.  If we’re lucky, we’ll prevent the press that will surely follow once the drawing concludes.”

“That is
a rightly smart idea,” she said, and Abigail allowed Phillip to lead her to his awaiting phaeton down the road.

Their hand and glove manner was surely to raise Brice’s dander, she reckoned, but s
he didn’t give a fig what Brice Winslow thought.

             
The yard was already besieged with hundreds of people when Phillip and Abigail arrived.  It was a perfectly beautiful day in August for their barbeque.  The fiddlers strummed up their beats and merrily played old Southern favorites.  It reminded Abigail of times before the war when fun and lively events were the norm and not a rare event to be taken in.  They passed the servants and lingered a moment to watch as they turned the roasted pigs on the large skewers. The aromas filled the air and tantalized their senses.

“It’s smells delightful!” Phillip exclaimed.

Her sleeveless cream and gold gown was the perfect choice, Abigail reckoned.  Not only did it accommodate the warm weather, but the gold bow details on her bustle and trim accessorized with the radiance of the sun quite agreeably.  She glanced around and observed all the prettily clad women throughout the gardens.  On the far side of the lawn, Abigail saw Maggie enjoying a game of lawn tennis with her beau.  They waved and smiled at one another until Maggie missed her ball, laughed, and returned her attention back to her game.  It was then that Abigail realized that despite all the limitations that life tried to bestow upon Maggie Rush, she overcame them all to live her life in a perfectly normal way.

Phillip
recaptured her attention when he grabbed her by the hand and began to twirl her around.  They playfully danced and laughed as they passed the band.  She laughed with slight embarrassment of her boldness, but Phillip’s openness and zest for conversation and celebration made it easy for her to relax and take in the festivities without the burden of feeling awkward.

After a couple more twirls, Abigail began to become dizzy and stopped amidst laughter at her silliness. When she
raised her head in front of her, Brice stood before her.

“Brice,” she said
with surprise.

Phillip nodded
and tipped his hat in greeting.

Abigail nervously smoothed her hand over her mused up curls before the introductions. 
“Mister Winslow, let me introduce you to Mister McKenzie of Willowville, Virginia.”

When Phillip outstretched his hand, Brice ignored it.  “How do you know this man, Abigail?”

“There’s no need for rudeness, Brice,” Abigail scolded.  “I’ll not have it at my home,” she added.

“Your home,” he wryly smiled.  “I thought this was Thomas and Abigail Large’s home.  Are you not
Abilene, the cousin from the North?”

Abigail glared at him.  “I’ll not allow your
boorishness in
my cousins’
home,” she corrected.  “You shall accept his hand, Mister Winslow or you will leave.  You decide.”  When it didn’t look as if Brice would budge, she added.  “As the festivities will be ongoing until nearly next morning, I’d suspect you would want to stay around for Abigail’s safety.”