Love Inspired Historical November 2014 (78 page)

The farther they went into the camp, the more Annabelle's back stiffened.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.

“I'll be fine.”

He might as well have asked if she'd take arsenic in her tea. They stopped near the center of the camp, and as everyone dismounted, he followed suit, then rushed over to lift Nugget down, then to assist Annabelle.

“I can do it,” she said, her voice laced with sadness.

Her father smiled at him. “Now, Annabelle, you're a lady. Don't fault a gentleman for treating you as such.”

When her shoulders fell in that resigned way of hers, Joseph felt half-bad for wanting to help her. Now that he'd gotten to know her, had heard about her pain, he wanted to give her space to deal with it.

“I'm sorry for troubling you,” Joseph whispered as he finished helping her off her horse.

He leaned in with one final whisper. “Let me be a friend to you.”

Crystal-blue eyes that could have matched the stream they'd been fishing in filled with water as she shook her head slowly. “Please. Let this be.”

Frank was oblivious to the situation as he neared the campfire and had already begun chatting with the woman who tended it. Joseph watched as she led him into a cabin that appeared to be even rougher than his pa's.

“Is that where we're going?”

Annabelle shrugged and looked away.

“Annabelle!” A girl slightly older than Nugget came bounding toward them. “It's been ages since you've come to visit.”

Joseph didn't have to watch to know Annabelle had stiffened beside him. He could feel it. As much as he wanted to give her some comfort, he had something else to worry about. Nugget had attached herself to his pant leg again. The sweet, cheerful girl had disappeared.

Whatever it was about this camp, he sure didn't like the effect it had on his womenfolk.

His womenfolk. Joseph shook his head. Annabelle wasn't his anything.

“I've been busy,” Annabelle finally told the girl, her voice thick.

“We've missed you.” The girl's sweet voice didn't waver. “I miss Susannah.” The last sentence was spoken with such heartbreaking sadness.

“I miss her, too.”

With the way Annabelle's voice cracked at that admission, Joseph wasn't sure she'd have the strength to say anything else.

All of this—everything from the time he'd spent with her in their home until now—it was all about the same thing. Annabelle's crushing grief.

“Annabelle,” her father called, coming out of the cabin. “Bring Joseph and Nugget over so we can get washed up and eat.”

The smell of frying bacon finally hit Joseph's nostrils. His stomach growled. Though Annabelle's meal had been wonderful, the meager leftovers they nibbled at this morning hadn't done enough to satisfy his hunger.

“Is Nugget the horse?” the girl asked, her voice filled with wonder. “We ain't never had a horse to breakfast.”

“Nugget is my sister,” Joseph answered for Annabelle. “And she's a little shy, so give her some time to get used to you.”

He nudged Nugget to get her to move forward, but her hands dug farther into his pants. “I'm not hungry.”

Annabelle was no help in the matter, as she just stood there, staring.

“Let's do as your father says.”

With a soft sigh, Annabelle nodded. “Come on, Nugget.” She held out a hand, as if that hand would somehow make whatever was wrong with Nugget suddenly all right.

Nugget loosened her hold on his pants, then took Annabelle's hand, still grasping him with the other.

They trudged toward the cabin with painful slowness. Annabelle because she seemed to be doing everything she could to avoid getting there, and Nugget because she wouldn't let go of Joseph or Annabelle.

“I declare, you are as slow as molasses, Annabelle.” The older woman stepped toward them and wrapped her arms around Annabelle. And, by default, Nugget.

“I don't know what's kept you from us for so long, but you are a sight. All skin and bones, what is that Maddie feeding you? Or not feeding you, I should say. Well, never mind that, I just fixed a mess of fresh eggs, and we've got bacon and biscuits so flaky you'd think you were eating a cloud. Polly's becoming quite the cook, aren't you, Polly?”

The woman stopped her rambling speech to point out a girl stirring a pot over the fire.

“And you must be Joseph. Frank told me all about you. Says you've been looking into Bad Billy's estate. Now that's a sad state of affairs if I've ever heard one. Poor fellow got all mixed up with one of them dance hall girls and, well, she foisted someone's git on him. At least he died before he had to deal with the heartbreak of finding out she had the pox. Can you—”

“Don't talk about my mama and papa that way!” Nugget flew from the protection of Joseph and Annabelle, then kicked the woman squarely in the shin before running off.

“Nugget!” Annabelle and Joseph said the name in unison, but Annabelle propelled into action.

“I'll take care of it,” she called over her shoulder, running after Nugget.

“And she will, you know,” the woman said to Joseph. “Annabelle has a way with children. Such a terrible loss when she stopped coming here to work with the little ones. Come, let's get you a plate.”

He looked at the woman, still full of cheer, and completely oblivious to Annabelle's misery.

“Thank you kindly, but I'd better help Annabelle.” He looked her up and down. “And while I'm grateful for your hospitality, I would appreciate it in the future if you'd avoid making such comments about her mother or our father.”

The woman flushed. “I meant no harm. I was only repeating what I—”

Joseph held up a hand. “I'm sure you didn't. But Nugget is my sister, and I take affronts to her honor seriously.”

“Of course. I...” She looked at Joseph, then over at Frank, then back to Joseph. “I apologize.”

“Thank you. I'd better see if Annabelle needs any help.”

He left the woman standing there and headed in the direction he'd seen Nugget and Annabelle run. It didn't take long to find them, sitting beside a large rock at the edge of camp.

Annabelle held a sobbing Nugget in her arms, rubbing her back, whispering what he assumed to be soothing words into her hair.

“Is she all right?”

“Yes.” Annabelle continued rubbing Nugget's back. “She's been so far removed from the gossip for a while that it's hard to have it come back at her. Especially with being reminded of their deaths. Poor little thing misses her mama and papa, and this just brought all the sadness back up.”

She smoothed Nugget's hair. “But it's going to be all right. Everyone's entitled to be a bit sad from time to time when they miss someone they love.”

The sweet kiss Annabelle pressed to Nugget's head tore at Joseph's heart. She wasn't just offering words of comfort to Nugget, she was telling it to herself.

Who rubbed Annabelle's back and whispered words of comfort to her?

The wind whipped down the hill, cold against their backs, reminding him that a warm fire and breakfast awaited them.

“We should get back.”

His stomach concurred, grumbling its opinion.

“You go. We'll just be a little longer.” The smile Annabelle gave him was mixed with sadness and unshed tears.

When did Annabelle get to cry over her losses?

Joseph looked around. Though people milled about the camp nearby, they were still out in the wild. “I don't—”

“We'll be fine.” Annabelle pressed Nugget closer into her. “She's not all cried out yet. It's best if we let her get it all out.”

More advice that he assumed had to have come from Annabelle's own life. Something she probably didn't allow anyone else to see, just like everything in her life. Had things been different for her when her siblings were alive? Back home, he told Mary just about everything. He sure could use her advice now. Of course, he'd never seen Mary cry. But surely she'd know what to do about the situation.

Though Annabelle seemed to have Nugget well in hand, he couldn't help but wish for something to ease Annabelle's pain.

“You're sure you'll be all right?” He hoped the look of concern he gave her would be taken in friendship.

She nodded and gave the kind of Annabelle smile he lived for. Would that their lives were simpler. That he didn't have a family to provide for. Even then, what did he have to offer her, or any other woman?

“Thank you,” he said instead.

“Of course.” Annabelle snuggled Nugget closer in to her. “She just needs time.”

The look she gave him made him wonder if maybe it wasn't just Nugget she was talking about.

But the impossibility of the situation and his rumbling belly pushed him in the direction of the camp. “I guess I'll get back then. Try to hurry. Nugget could also use some breakfast.”

At the mention of food, Nugget's head popped up. “They don't want the likes of me at their table.”

Then she burrowed back into Annabelle's shoulder.

Annabelle looked up at him. “I'll talk to her.”

The memory of Annabelle facing down the woman in the mercantile flashed before him as he realized that his sister would have no greater champion than Annabelle.

“All right.” He looked at her. Annabelle needed a champion, too. Unfortunately, it couldn't be him.

Joseph returned to the cabin, where Frank was eating outside with a crowd surrounding them.

“Did you find them?”

“Yes.” He took the plate one of the young ladies offered him. “Nugget was hurt by the unkind references to her mother, and Annabelle was making her feel better. She's still grieving over the loss of her parents.”

The word
parents
didn't come so hard as it usually had. Not when he'd seen a little girl crying her eyes out over a mama who was gone. Nugget had woven herself into Joseph's heart, and for the sake of his sister, he had to let go of his discomfort with where she'd come from. But it didn't mean he had to forgive his father.

The older woman, Gertie, stood. “I should go to her and apologize. I'm sure Annabelle could use—”

“No.” Joseph looked at Frank, hoping he'd give some assistance. “Annabelle is doing fine, and she...”

Was extremely uncomfortable around Gertie and her family. A person would have to be a fool or blind not to see it. But perhaps it would be indelicate of him to expose her in front of her pa.

Frank nodded. “She's still grieving, Gert.”

“You know?” Joseph was grateful he hadn't yet taken a bite of the mouthwatering food in front of him. He'd have choked otherwise.

“Of course I know. I'd be a bad preacher, and an even worse father, if I didn't see how she tries to shut out everyone who loves her. I keep thinking that given enough time, and around the people she used to love, that she'd get over it, but...”

Frank stared down at his feet, and for the first time, Joseph saw him, not as the faith-filled preacher, but as a man who was trying his best for a daughter he couldn't reach.

“How is it that I can't reach my own daughter?”

Annabelle's shameful secret was shared by her father. She feared him knowing, yet he knew. Worse, he blamed himself.

“You can't blame yourself, Frank.” Gertie sat beside him and put her arm around him. “She'll heal when the time is right. You just gotta keep praying.”

Though Frank didn't seem heartened by Gertie's words, Joseph realized that in all of this, he hadn't kept his promise to pray for Annabelle. True, it had only been a few hours since he'd decided that he needed to pray for healing in her relationship with God and her pa, but clearly, with Frank's pain so plainly displayed, he needed to be more diligent.

“Sir? If I may...” Joseph took a seat across from Frank. “Perhaps you should talk to her about this. When she held Nugget and let her cry, she said that sometimes a person needs to cry until it's all out. I couldn't help but wonder if Annabelle has had that opportunity.”

“Annabelle never cries.” Hard eyes stared back at him. Now he knew where Annabelle got it.

“Has anyone ever let her? Have you given her an opening to pour out her heart and share these things rather than let them fester?”

In his own words, he finally saw the truth in Annabelle's actions and words. She was trying so hard to shove down the grief and pain that she couldn't express that it was festering.

Joseph took a deep breath and met Frank's gaze. “Maybe if you talked to her as a father, instead of as a preacher, and just loved her for who she is, instead of her role in your ministry, maybe she could finally heal.”

He expected an Annabelle-like outburst to tell him he'd overstepped his bounds. Instead, those eyes softened as Frank said, “Her mother was always so good at that. I'm just as lost as Annabelle without her.”

“Then tell her that. I think it would help you both.” With that, Joseph turned his attention to his cooling breakfast, knowing that he was dangerously close to interfering more than he ought.

Because as much as he was working toward the reconciliation between Annabelle and her father, he had a feeling that his own homecoming wouldn't be as smooth. Their pa's death would be hard enough to take, but the transition to accepting Nugget as their sister was going to be hard on the rest of his family.

One more thing he needed to be diligent about praying for. As selfish as it sounded, finding his pa's silver would make that acceptance a whole lot easier. But if they had to face poverty with another mouth to feed, he wasn't sure Mary, or anyone else, would be that generous with accepting Nugget.

Chapter Eleven

A
nnabelle felt stronger as she returned to Gertie's cabin. It wasn't so much that anything had changed, other than the fact that she knew if Nugget was going to be comfortable, she had to be brave. Which meant pretending that it didn't hurt to see Gertie and her children running and laughing like the world was just fine when Annabelle's had ended.

“There they are!” Gertie's cheerful voice rang out, and Annabelle forced herself not to cringe.

“Sorry it took so long.” She avoided Joseph's gaze. Joseph, who knew her too well for their short acquaintance, would see right through her.

“You just sit right on down and eat.” Gertie handed her a plate while Nugget clung to the back of Annabelle's skirts. But Gertie was wise to that trick. “And you, too, little one. You've got to come out so's I can give you a plate.”

Annabelle relaxed slightly as Nugget peeked out. “You're not gonna say mean things to me?”

“No.” To Gertie's credit, she squatted down to Nugget's level. “And I shouldn't have said those things about your parents, either. I'm sorry. You must've loved them very much, and I'm sure they must've loved you, too.”

Her words brought Nugget out of hiding but didn't remove the suspicious look from her face. “I am mighty hungry.”

“Then I have a mighty big helping of breakfast for you.”

As Gertie handed Nugget a plate and they all got settled, Annabelle couldn't help but notice Gertie's kindness. Gertie had always been a kind woman. It truly wasn't fair that Annabelle couldn't bear to be around her mother's best friend. She didn't know why it hurt so much, but it did.

Loath to spend any more time here than they had to, Annabelle gobbled up her food as quickly as was polite. At least the first few bites. But she could feel the weight of Joseph's stare on her and she knew.

He knew exactly what she was doing and why. No matter that she hadn't told him the full story. He knew.

Why couldn't he be as oblivious as her father, who sat there, making a whistle out of a twig for the children? He accepted her excuses readily enough, and when she finished eating and suggested that they return home as quickly as possible because Maddie must be worried sick, he would agree.

But Joseph wouldn't.

Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she tried forcing them away, but they wouldn't listen. She gave them a quick swipe with the back of her hand.

“Is everything all right?”

Of course Gertie would notice.

“The smoke is rather thick, that's all.” To prove her point, Annabelle got up and moved to the other side of the fire. But as she passed Joseph, his eyes mocked her.

Stop hiding.

He could add it to the list of her sins.

At least Nugget felt better. She was attacking her breakfast with gusto, enjoying every bite, and completely unaware of everything else around her.

Annabelle didn't want to feel this way. She would've liked to have laughed with Polly at whatever joke Gertie was telling. But the rushing in her ears kept her from being able to even hear it.

Even her father was laughing.

She stabbed some of her eggs, knowing that if Gertie noticed her not eating, there would be questions to answer. If only it didn't taste like slag and there wasn't such a huge lump in her throat to make it difficult to swallow.

“What's your doll's name?” Caitlin had sat on the other side of Nugget and was staring at the tattered rag doll sticking out of the small bag Nugget carried.

“Surprise,” Nugget said shyly, but a small smile crinkled her lips. It was good for Nugget to be able to relate to kids her own age. Annabelle knew that. Based on the reception the little girl had gotten in town, she was sure that Nugget probably had few playmates.

“I've got a doll, too. Want to see?”

As Nugget nodded, Caitlin pulled out the one thing sure to shatter the last shards of peace Annabelle had been clinging to.

Bethany. Susannah's favorite china doll.

The plate slipped from Annabelle's hands and crashed into the dirt. Among the remains of her breakfast, she saw spots unlike any she'd ever seen. She'd purposely put that doll in a special place, a place where her father wouldn't find it to give to one of his projects.

Caitlin sat opposite of Nugget, prattling on and on about how it used to be her very bestest friend's doll, but now it was hers, so she named it Susannah.

A nice gesture that wouldn't bring her sister back.

“Are you all right?” Joseph slipped into the spot next to her and began cleaning up her mess. She could only sit there and stare at it all.

No, she wasn't all right. But she wasn't allowed to say so. She couldn't begrudge a poor child the joy of a precious doll. And yet, she also couldn't find it in her heart to share the child's joy.

What kind of monster was she?

No wonder God didn't listen to her prayers. There was absolutely no good in Annabelle Lassiter.

“Don't worry about it. Your pa and Gertie are over there talking.”

His words were meant to reassure, but as she looked over, she noticed her father slipping money into Gertie's hands.

“He's really generous, isn't he?”

Annabelle could only nod. She supposed this generosity of spirit was something to be praised, something clear in the idol worship shining in Joseph's eyes. But what about her? Didn't she have the right to grieve and miss her family? Selfish, yes. But she'd spent so long putting her own needs aside, and just once, she wanted her needs, her prayers, her dreams, to matter.

“What's wrong?” He looked at her with such a caring expression she wasn't sure she could stand it.

“I just want to go home,” she whispered.

Joseph nodded. He didn't try to make her stay and face whatever he thought was bothering her.

“I'll talk to your pa.” Joseph got up and walked toward her father.

Nugget tugged on her sleeve. “I don't want to go. I want to stay here with Caitlin. She's going to show me how to fix Susannah's hair.”

Annabelle wanted to close her eyes and be transported to anywhere but here. But she was afraid that if she did, she'd see Susannah's smiling face telling her the exact same thing. So she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I'm sure you'll see her again.” Because she would face this irrational emotion. Not for her sake, but for the sake of a little girl who desperately needed a friend.

“When?” Two little girls stared at her, like they were used to promises adults made, but seldom kept. Something she had often been guilty of with Susannah. “Later,” she'd tell her sister. Only later never came, and now Susannah was gone, and she'd never be able to do those things with her.

“We'll discuss it with my father.”

Who was walking toward them with Joseph and Gertie in tow.

“Joseph says you want to leave. We just got here. Surely you don't want to refuse the MacDonalds' hospitality. You haven't even chatted with Polly yet.”

Annabelle closed her eyes. They were supposed to be her family's dearest friends. And once upon a time, before Henry had left with Annabelle's heart, Annabelle and Polly would sit and giggle and admire some of the miners. What had Polly done with the shawl she'd been knitting for Annabelle's wedding trip?

It hardly mattered. There was no wedding, no wedding trip. Henry had gone without Annabelle, all because Annabelle had chosen to nurse her ailing family when the sickness hit. The worst part was, Henry hadn't even said goodbye. Polly had been the one to break the news of Henry's departure.

How could she face her friend now?

She opened her eyes and looked up at Joseph.

“I'm sorry. I didn't sleep well last night, so I'm tired. Of course we can stay.”

“What happened to your breakfast?” Gertie pointed at the plate Joseph had cleaned up but hadn't found a way to dispose of yet.

Annabelle stared at the ground. “I'm sorry. I got distracted, and I was clumsy.”

She was trying so hard not to offend anyone. To not wrap them up in what was obviously her grief alone. But nothing she did was right. This was why she'd stayed away. Why she couldn't come back. Everything in her hurt, but everyone else had moved on.

“Are you sure you're feeling all right?” Gertie knelt beside her and put a hand on her forehead. “You've looked awfully pale since you got here.”

“Nothing a night in my own bed won't cure.” She gave another half smile, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She would do this. She would make it through the rest of the day in the mining camp, and everything would be just fine.

Her father joined Gertie in front of Annabelle. “She did faint in the middle of Harrison Avenue yesterday. We all thought it was because her corset was too tight, but perhaps she is coming down with something.”

The concern in her father's face undid her resolve. She couldn't let him think that his last remaining child was in danger, too. He'd lost so much, and even though she was trying to be brave for his sake, she couldn't have him thinking she was ill.

“Truly, I'm fine.” She stood, and at the same time, all the tears she'd been trying to hold back came rushing out. “I just want to go home. I don't want to be here, where everything reminds me of everything I have lost.”

The only good thing about crying like this was that she couldn't see anyone's faces to read their expressions. Especially Joseph's. Why his was the most important, she didn't know. But as much as she'd like to save face in front of him, the dam had been breached, and she couldn't stop any of it.

“I miss Susannah. I miss Peter. I miss Mark and John. I miss Mother. And I'm tired of pretending that it's fine. It's not fine.”

Nugget wrapped her arms around Annabelle's legs. “It's all right, Miss Annabelle. You can cry just like I did when I was missing my mama. It's all right to miss your mama.”

The little girl's kind words sent Annabelle to blubbering like a fool. She had said that very thing to Nugget.
It's all right to miss your mama.
But she had no idea just how powerful those words were until someone said them to her.

Gertie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, dear heart, I should've thought about that. Of course a young lady would miss—”

Annabelle tried to shrug off the embrace. “Please, Gertie, I can't.”

But Gertie only squeezed her tighter, and the tears kept rolling down Annabelle's cheeks faster and faster.

“You have to face this, my girl. You lost your mother, yes, but you have a lot of people who love you. You don't have to lose us, too.”

Gertie's words throbbed in Annabelle's ears. Was that what she'd done? In shutting herself off from everything, could she have been making it worse?

Annabelle straightened, and moved out of Gertie's embrace. This time, the older woman let her go. Annabelle turned and looked at her father, who held out a handkerchief.

“Thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go on like that.” She blew her nose, an action that would horrify her mother, but she supposed her mother would be horrified by a lot of things she'd said and done lately.

Her father wrapped his arms around her. “No, don't be sorry for your tears. I suppose I haven't been very good at helping you grieve.”

He kissed the top of her head, the way he did when she was little, and held her tight. “Your mother would have known how to talk to you, but I...I don't know what to say. I miss her more than you can imagine.”

Annabelle looked up. Examined the lines in her father's face, noting for the first time that they'd deepened in recent months.

“You never told me.”

“I was trying to be strong for you.”

His words mirrored her own. Annabelle blinked away the tears. “And I was trying to be strong for you.”

Her father pulled a letter from his pocket, the familiar script staring out at her. Aunt Celeste.

“Your aunt has been begging me to let you visit. The Simms family offered to escort you, but I...”

A long sigh shook his body. “I haven't been able to let you go. You're hurting so much, and I can't let you leave broken.”

“I'm always going to be broken if I'm here.” She looked around, noting that Joseph had taken the little girls closer to the fire, where they played with their dolls, and Joseph amiably chatted with Gertie and Polly.

She wanted to be able to interact with them. To talk like they did in the old days. But those days were gone, and nothing would ever be the same.

“No,” her father said softly. “You're always going to be broken if you leave without fixing this.”

But he didn't understand. It wasn't hers to fix. Annabelle hadn't broken anything. She was the one who had been broken.

Annabelle pulled out of his embrace and smoothed her skirts. “So what now? You won't let me leave, and I can't stay.”

Her father let out the exasperated sigh she'd grown too used to hearing. “Gertie has been asking us to come up for a while now. I've been making too many excuses. There are a number of parishioners I need to see and I haven't been able to spend nearly the time I'd like up here caring for them.”

A familiar tightness closed around Annabelle's lungs. “Please don't ask me to—”

“I'm not asking, I'm telling.” Her father stood immovable. “This shouldn't be a chore. You used to beg to spend more time here. No matter how many days you spent up here, you always wanted more. So for you to be so reluctant to stay up here—”

Her father looked her in the eyes, searching in a way that he hadn't done before. “Annabelle, if there is some reason, other than you being upset over the loss in our family, then tell me. Otherwise, we're staying. Long enough for me to finish my work, and, I pray, long enough for you to face the pain that has you so trapped.”