Wonderful Lonesome (45 page)

Abbie grinned.

“Let’s eat lunch, Fin,” Louise said. “Then I believe Abbie has a matter she needs to take care of this afternoon.”

Abbie’s buggy clattered into Rudy’s barnyard. She did not wait for a full stop before leaping down in two steps and leaving the reins lax. Chickens in the pen pecked at the ground outside the coop just as they always did, some of them clacking at the disturbance Abbie’s arrival brought. Eight cows—no, nine, counting the calf—grazed in the pasture as they always did. The new calf, fully weaned, was with the others. The horses—all but one—meandered on the other side of the field. The trough outside the barn was full of water.

“Rudy!” Abbie clutched the bishop’s letter and spun in a circle looking for some indication of Rudy’s whereabouts. “Rudy!”

She looked first in the barn, where it was obvious Rudy had mucked and laid down clean straw. With no animals in the barn, he had even left the door open. Fresh air gusted in behind Abbie as she looked in every stall.

Next she let herself into the chicken pen to make sure he was not cleaning there. The day’s eggs had been removed, but Rudy left no other sign of recent presence.

She ducked a head into an outbuilding where he kept a plow and a few other large farm tools, but it was dark and dusty.

“Rudy!” She called louder this time. “The letter came!”

She strode to the house, knocked sharply, and entered. Rudy had cleaned up since Saturday. Their visit had been brief. Rudy claimed a headache, making Abbie wonder if Little Abe and Rudy shared an illness and giving her hope that Mary Miller had not been avoiding her after all.

The kitchen wall had been scrubbed down since then, and the scrap bucket emptied—probably what the chickens were pecking at. The bed was tidied, and both chairs were tucked under the table at precise angles. The floor had been swept so recently that it bore not even a faint layer of dust. Abbie smiled. She appreciated the effort he was making, but she would make sure he understood that she did not mind doing the housework. After all, she had been keeping house for him for a long time already. Nevertheless, it was nice to know he would not start their marriage taking her for granted.

Abbie lit the stove and pulled the coffee canister off the shelf. She might as well have a cup while she waited for Rudy. If he was out in one of the fields, he would not be long, since he had no harvest. When the coffee was ready, she filled a mug, chose the chair facing the front door, and sipped at regular intervals.

The afternoon descended into early darkness. Every time Abbie thought she might as well go home and save the joyous news for tomorrow, she believed surely he would step through the door at any moment. The cows would need milking, for one thing. A man dedicated to building a dairy business would not put his cows at risk.

She lit a lamp and foraged in his food bins. When he came through the door, she would greet him with a meal. Before long she had a potpie of green beans and potatoes in the oven.

The darkness deepened, and the howl of a coyote pierced her solitude. Rudy would never leave the calf in the pasture exposed to the coyotes. Abbie pulled the lantern with the sturdy handle off a shelf and transferred flame. She had to get the cows in.

And milked.

She knew how to milk a cow, of course. And she was fairly certain she knew Rudy’s system for caring for the milk until he could distribute it in the morning or churn it into butter or cheese. The truth was, though, that her family had never had more than two cows, and her brothers had taken on the milking as soon as they were old enough. Even Levi had milking duties. While she assumed she would learn to help Rudy with the milk after they married, she never had before this.

Where was Rudy?

For the first time in this interminable afternoon, Abbie was frightened. She tightened her sweater around her midsection and carried the lantern out to the pasture. Wherever he had gone, Rudy had taken one horse, but riding without a wagon he would have nowhere to hang a light when he came home in the dark.

By the time Abbie finished the milking—which she was sure took her far longer than it would have any of her brothers, including Levi—and got all the animals settled in safety for the night, Abbie’s nascent fear had multiplied into terror for Rudy’s well-being. The meal in the oven dried out beyond consumption, and Abbie made another pot of coffee to drink while she sat upright at the table the entire night. She regretted now that she had let the daylight seep away while she sat cheerfully expecting Rudy to walk through the door when she could have been out riding through his fields as the first step in making sure he had not fallen ill or into harm.

She had milked the cows later than they were used to, and now she would rush the next interval by disturbing them before dawn. As soon as daylight broke, she intended to be looking for Rudy. She tended to all the animals and left them in the coop and the barn when she struck out on her search. Before the sun had transformed from pink threads to bright orange, Abbie was certain Rudy was not on the farm.

Her heart thudded against her chest wall as Abbie admitted she would have to seek help. She rode to the Millers’ and interrupted their breakfast.

“Have you seen Rudy?” she asked a surprised Albert at the door.

“Today?” he asked.

“Or yesterday.” Abbie’s brain muttered a scrambled prayer.
Please, God, let Rudy be all right
.

“What’s wrong, Abbie?”

“I’m not certain anything is wrong.” Yes, she was. “When did you see him last?”

Albert shrugged. “Last week.”

The weight in Abbie’s stomach threatened to explode. “If he drops by today, will you let him know I was looking for him?”

“Of course. But I don’t expect him.”

Abbie got back in her buggy and gauged the sky. It was still very early. She had several hours before Fin Wood would be watching out the window for her arrival.
God, show me what to do
.

She was going to have to ask Willem. It only made sense. Other than the Millers, Willem’s farm was the nearest. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and drove the buggy back out to the main road.

The fluster of activity in his coop told her he was collecting eggs. Even Levi could do a more deft job of getting the eggs without upsetting the hens. Abbie pulled up beside the coop.

Willem had never seen Abbie so pale. Urgency coursed through him. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen Rudy?”

“I’m…keeping my distance,” Willem said. “I don’t want to complicate matters.”

“It’s not that.” Abbie twisted the reins around her hand. “I can’t find him. I waited for him all day and all night at his farm, and he never came home.”

“But the animals—”

“I did what I could. The animals are fine for now.” Abbie’s voice cracked. “I’ve been all over his farm, and over to the Millers’.”

“What about his deliveries?”

“I can’t think about that. Besides, I don’t know who all his customers are.”

“I meant, maybe he mentioned something to someone.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start, Willem. But something is very wrong.”

Willem set the bowl of eggs he was holding on the ground and brushed his hands against his trousers. “What about the
English
authorities?”

Her eyes clouded. “So you agree something is wrong.”

He wanted to reach up to the bench where she sat to stroke her cheek and reassure her. Instead, he slipped his fingers in the horse’s bridle. “You’re not a hysterical woman, Abbie. If you feel something is wrong, then something is wrong.”

“What can the
English
authorities do?”

“Make inquiries. Try to determine what he has been doing the last couple of days. If you could find Rudy’s account books, they could start with his dairy customers.”

He saw the tremble in her nod.

“I think I know where to look,” she said.

“Come inside and wash your face,” he said. Pin up your hair. We’ll find it and then go into Limon together.”

Abbie wanted to know the minute Rudy returned. He
would
return. She would not allow herself to consider another answer to his disappearance.

The police officer in Limon, Mr. Shelton, was too calm. He took down the information Abbie provided, including the list of Rudy’s dairy customers, and promised he would let her know when he had some information.

How long would it take? she wanted to know. What did he plan to do? Who was he going to talk to? How soon would he start? She explained where she lived, where Rudy lived, where she worked. Would he promise to send a man out to find her as soon as they knew anything at all? The most the officer did was arch an eyebrow and write a few more words on his form.

Willem had to take her by the elbow and guide her out of the police station before she heard any satisfying answers. Somehow she managed her hours with Fin, though he expressed exasperation at her lack of progress in understanding the rules of chess. Because she had ridden in with Willem that morning, she had to wait for him to return from the far reaches of the ranch. She said good-bye to Fin when it was time for his afternoon rest, telling herself she would go outside and walk off her nervous energy. In the end, she stayed near the house. If she roamed the ranch, how would an
English
officer know where to find her?

Willem drove her home, though the buggy was hers.

“I want to wait at Rudy’s,” she said when Willem started to turn onto the Weaver land. “If…
when
he comes home, that’s where he will come.”

Willem redirected the horse. “I’ll do the milking.”

“I can manage.”

“But you don’t have to.”

While Abbie worked alongside Willem, he was three times as fast at every task.

“In the morning,” he said as they finished the last cow, “we’ll have to find some use for some of the excess milk or pour it out.”

“Seems a shame to waste it,” she said.

“We both have jobs,” he reminded her. “Neither of us has time to try to find Rudy’s customers or churn butter. We should focus on keeping the cows producing.”

“You’re right.” Whatever had happened to Rudy, he deserved to come home to healthy animals.

“I’ll be back in the morning.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll manage.” Abbie rinsed her hands in the trough outside the barn and turned to his expectant face.

He met her gaze and moistened his lips. “The turn in your relationship with Rudy surprised me. I’ll admit that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t care about him. Or you.”

She swallowed without speaking.

“I’ll ride one of Rudy’s horses home for the night and be back in the morning in time to milk.”