Lazy Days (33 page)

Brant and Luke cantered their horses toward the
barn in the late afternoon. Although encouraged by Abby's rally, something
wasn't sitting right with him. She smiled and carried on conversation, but her
eyes didn't join in. She was there, but she wasn't there.

Tonight we're going to sit down and have a long
talk and I'm going to make her realize how much I love and adore her.
He blew air out his
cheeks.
We need a baby and I'm going to do my damndest to give us one.

When they entered the barn, Luke said,
"Where's Daisy?"

Fear clutched Brant's chest and he spurred Sugar
to the front of the cabin, dismounted and rushed inside.

Immediately, he saw two envelopes on the table.
With shaking hands he ripped open the closest one.

My Dearest Brant,

When you read this letter you will know me for
the coward that I am. I have tried to go on after Ty's death, but my heart will
not cooperate. Everyday, my feelings of sadness intensify until I find myself
unable to do even the simplest of tasks. I am no good to you or the children. I
can see in your eyes how concerned all of you are and how you have put your
lives on hold for me. I cannot bear the guilt of that. In my mind, I know that
one must carry on after the death of a loved one, but my heart and emotions
will not cooperate.

Although I ask you not to worry about me, I know
you will because you are kind and compassionate, as are Jenny and Luke. I do
not see any other course of action for me now, but to leave. I will contact you
in the near future to let you know I am safe and working through my grief.

Before I end this letter, I want you to know I
loved you from the moment I read your first letter. Even before we met, your
kindness jumped out from the written page, and the moment I saw you standing
across the street the day of my arrival, my heart was lost to you..

I want to thank you for the happiness you and
Jenny and Luke have given me. Jenny has been the sweetest daughter a mother
could ever hope for and Luke, although difficult at times because of his
sorrow, which I now understand, has your same kindness of heart.

Before I say goodbye, I have gifts for all of
you. They are in the other envelope. I know you will not be happy with my gifts
at first, but I do this as much for myself as for you; probably more so for
myself. Please, please accept my gifts.

Finally, my love, it is time to say goodbye. Do
not search for me. I will be in touch soon. I simply cannot fathom another day
of endless grief because wherever I look there are continual remembrances of my
beloved Ty.

—Abby

P.S. Wally is in the shed.

Brant blinked against blinding tears. Reaching
for the other envelope, he ripped it open and removed the deed to his property
and a stack of money. A small note was attached.

Please accept these gifts from my heart. I sold
my home in Philadelphia and received a substantial profit. I am not sorry I
sold the house because there were no happy memories to bind me to it. Please
allow me this one joy in my dismal existence.

—Abby

Brant turned to see Luke waiting in the doorway.
Speaking to himself, he said, "The hell I won't go in search of you,
Abby."

Without delay, he and Luke mounted their horses
and headed to town. Luke said, "Pa, do you think she went back to
Philadelphia?"

"No, I don't think so. We'll just have to
ask around town to see if anyone saw her."

"You don't think she'd just take off on
Daisy, do you? You know, ride the trails."

"God, I hope not." Fear in Brant's
stomach twisted into a tighter knot.

"Pa?"

The catch in Luke's voice made Brant slow his
horse and turn to look at his son.

"Yes, son."

The boy's voice cracked, "I'm so sorry for
the way I treated Abby. She's a good ma." He choked back a sob.

"Luke, Abby knew you were hurting and
understood. I did too, even though sometimes I was harder on you than I should
have been. We've all been through more than anyone should have to endure, but
our experiences, as sad as they are, have created a bond between us that will
never be broken." His own voice cracked. "And I should have told Abby
long ago how much I loved and needed her."

Luke tried to comfort his father. "We'll
find her, Pa."

In town, Brant reined his horse in at the front
of the hotel. The first person he wanted to talk with was Charlie. The man
spent a lot of time outside and maybe he'd seen something. The sound of
Charlie's singing carried through the windows of the hotel and Brant stepped
into the parlor ignoring hotel guests and walking up to the piano.

Charlie cut the ballad short. Brant said,
"Hello Charlie. Can I speak with you a minute?"

"She left on the stagecoach this afternoon
headed toward Bingham
—
said she was visitin' friends. Her horse is at the
stable."

Brant nodded. "Thanks, Charlie."

Charlie scratched his chin. "It's almost
dark. Why don't ya'll stay with me? My room's small but you jus' need to bed
down 'til mornin'. As much as you want to find her, ridin' out at night's not
smart. If yer horse goes lame, you'll jus' be that much further behind. If
Luke's not goin' with you, he can stay with me 'til you return or he can ride
back to yer place tomorrow."

"Sounds good. Send him to Mick MacGregor's
in the morning. That's where his sister is."

"Sure thing." Charlie closed the piano
cover. "She's a keeper, Brant. Jus' needs some help through this rough
patch."

Brant tried to swallow the lump in his throat
and nodded because he couldn't speak.

At first light, he was on the road. All night
he'd tried to remember the name of the couple who had been Abby's stagecoach
companions from Ft. Worth.

Although Brant wanted to gallop Sugar the
distance to Bingham, and his horse would do it for him, she was too old for
that kind of exertion.

The long ride, however, gave him plenty of time
to think about his life, his children, and his beloved Abby. He should have
told her long ago how much he loved and adored her. However, feelings of
betraying his first wife had held him back. Only now, did he realize how
misguided those feelings were. He'd loved Molly fiercely, just as he loved Abby
fiercely. Molly was dead and Abby lived. And he could choose to become one of
the walking dead that he encountered so often, or he could choose to live and
love again. Abby made him want to live. Could he make her understand that she
also had a choice to go on or become one of the walking dead herself?

He entered the outskirts of Bingham just as
shops were opening to pedestrians filling the streets. Finding the local
stable, he watered and rested Sugar and asked the stable boy, "You
wouldn't know of an elderly couple named Winnows or Whipple…something or other?
Would you?"

The skinny towhead said, "You mean
Willowood?"

"Yes! That's it!"

"Sure. Everyone knows them. Are you in
trouble and need a lawyer?"

"Ah, no. But I have important business to
discuss with them. Could you direct me to their home?"

The boy appraised him for a few seconds.
"They live off Main Street, a block over from the courthouse on First
Street. It's a big green house with yellow trim. They're good people. Mr.
Willowood helped my pa out once."

"Thanks, son." Brant flipped the boy a
coin and he grinned.

After caring for Sugar and then splashing water
from the pump to clean up, Brant combed his hair back and trotted his horse in
the direction the boy pointed. The house was easy to locate and he tied Sugar's
reins to the hitching post. Blowing a breath, he practiced what he wanted to
say while following the flagstones to the front porch. Before he reached the
door, it was thrown open by the plump woman he remembered from the stagecoach.

"Oh, please come in," she gushed.
"Abigail is here. She's such a sweetheart, I had a feeling you'd be coming
after her." A male servant hovered nearby and Mrs. Willowood dismissed him
kindly.

Brant followed the woman indoors breathing a
sigh of relief while Mrs. Willowood continued her running conversation without
taking a breath.

"The poor dear showed up exhausted last
night and shared everything that's happened. I tried to comfort her because I
lost a child myself and a couple of grandchildren. I explained that it takes
time and family to heal, but she's so distraught I fear she cried all night.
She hasn't come out of her room–"

Brant interrupted, "Will you please take me
to her now?"

"Yes, of course. I think you're just what
she needs. She told me many times of her love for you."

Brant's heart twisted. "That love is
mutual, ma'am."

"I can certainly see that. Come with
me."

Mrs. Willowood finally stopped talking while
leading him up a winding staircase. At the end of the second story hallway, she
placed her hands on her pink cheeks, inhaled a deep breath, and then knocked on
a door.

A soft voice said, "Yes?"

"Abigail, its Ann Willowood. May I come
in?"

"Yes. Of course," Abby responded
weakly.

Mrs. Willowood opened the door. "Dear
heart, you have a visitor."

Brant stepped inside the room with his hat in
hand. Abby lay back on pillows in a bed that swallowed her up. Her eyes widened
and big tears pooled when she saw him.

Mrs. Willowood said, "I'll leave you two
alone," and closed the door.

Brant watched Abby brush jerkily at her tears.

Placing his hat on a nearby dresser, he slowly
approached until he stood at the foot of the bed. Abby kept swiping at tears.
Walking to the side of the bed, he sat on it and drank in her lovely face.
"Honey, I've got to say some things I should have said long ago." He
reached for her small hand and pulled it against his heart. "Do you feel
how fast my heart is beating?"

She didn't respond and didn't look at him.

"It only beats like that for you. After
Molly died, I didn't think I could love that way again. But I was wrong. I love
you, Abby. I should have told you sooner, but I was still coming to terms with
my loss. During the cattle drive, I realized how precious you are to me, and I
was going to show you in a special way by taking you on a picnic and revealing
my heart. But…"

Abby sobbed.

Softly, he said, "Sweetheart, we can get
through this together." He paused because his heart was bursting with sadness
and love. Unable to hold his emotions inside he swallowed and said through
tears. "Abby, forgive me for not being more sensitive to you. I should
have taken you away from the house and not expected you to resume daily living
until you were stronger." He brought her hand to his lips. "I'm so
sorry."

* * *

Abby looked at Brant kissing her hand and
something inside her suddenly comprehended his words. No longer was she the
mail order bride married for the purpose of raising children, she was the
beloved wife and mother of a family who needed her. And right now her husband
needed her. Together they could restore each other. Lifting to her knees, she
wrapped her arms around him and whispered comforting words. Moving her mouth to
his, she gently kissed him and he laid her across the bed, returning her
kisses. Comforting words, watered by tears, sprouted the seeds of recovery for
both of them. Finally, with bodies entwined, Abby slept her first peaceful
sleep in weeks. When she awoke, shadows slanted across the room and she felt
Brant stir beside her. She raised her head to gaze into his eyes. Slowly, he
smiled and she smiled back.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Starving."

"That's just what I wanted to hear. You
need to gain your weight back."

Nuzzling her lips against his throat, she wanted
to stay like this for hours longer, but her stomach growled loudly.

Brant sat on the side of the bed. "Abby, I
don't want you coming home just yet. I want you to stay here for awhile. You
need this time away."

"But Brant, the children–"

He turned and placed his finger over her lips.

"I'll visit every weekend until it's time
for you to come home. Believe me, I want you home, but not at the sacrifice of
your physical and emotional wellbeing. Luke and Jenny will understand. "

Because she knew he was right, she didn't argue.

The next day, Abby kissed Brant goodbye while
Mr. and Mrs. Willowood stood beside her offering comfort.

True to his word, he arrived every Saturday
morning and she ran to meet him, disregarding the rules of decorum and throwing
herself into his arms. Whenever she expressed guilt at not being home to care
for Jenny and Luke, he kissed her concerns away.

During his visits, Brant was able to discuss
with Mr. Willowood the plight of his neighbors losing their homes in
foreclosure. The good man became enraged by practices he said were unethical
and, to the delight of those affected, began filing complaints against the bank
and responding to the foreclosure notices.

Often, Brant and Abby would sit on the porch
swing and mull over the changing times. "You know, Abby, I think I need to
try raising some of the new breeds of cattle. The market for Longhorns isn't
what it used to be." He entwined his fingers with hers and said
matter-of-factly, "Change is difficult, but inescapable."

On the Saturday of Brant's third visit, Abby
knew she was ready to resume her life. While they lay in bed that night, she
said, "I'm ready to go home."

He tightened his arms around her. "Honey,
I'll bring the buckboard next week if you're sure. However, I can wait as long
as needed."

"I'm sure. But there's something we haven't
discussed."

He kissed her forehead. "What's that?"

"Money."

Brant chuckled
—
a response she hadn't
expected.

She rose on her elbow and looked questioningly
at him.

He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.
"Quite frankly, that was the least of my concerns when you left. But
you're right; we do need to discuss it. Honestly, it bothers me that I wasn't
able to provide for my family from the sale of my cattle. But in my frustration,
I neglected to realize something that you pointed out in your letter."

Abby held her breath and waited.

"Like you said, you needed to do what you
did. You're a giving person, and when you're denied that opportunity, you're
not fulfilled. In my pride, I refused to see that. When I finally did, a light
went on. I'm not saying I'm happy that my wife paid off our mortgage when I
couldn't, but I'm coming to terms with it because it's about so much more than
money."

His understanding words lifted the final veil in
Abby's heart and she crushed her mouth over his, kissing him repeatedly.

He murmured his delight and rolled her onto her
back. "I don't want to talk about money anymore. I just want to kiss you,
love."