Authors: Lizbeth Dusseau
Abigail
smiled, thankful for the
sug-gestion
. Leaving the
shed, the two retreat-
ed
to their room, where they
spent the remainder of the evening in each other’s arms, underneath the
soothing sheets of their warm bed.
“
Mornin
‘,
hon
,” Darcy said
brightly, bounding down the stairs for breakfast one morning a week after their
episode with Old Hannah’s brew and Aaron’s stern rebuke. The sassy redhead
stared at the biscuits and gravy sitting on the table. Aaron had already eaten
breakfast and was on his way to the mill. “Boy does that look good,”
she said.
“You look
especially happy,” -Abigail remarked. She was particularly fond of Darcy
when her bright face shined the way it was now.
“I
am,” Darcy replied. “It comes with being ready to move on.”
“Move
on?” Abigail said surprised. “I thought you were going to stay
through the winter?”
“Did I
say that?” Darcy asked. “You should know me by now. How restless I
get. Besides, I can’t stand watching you two love birds all the time.”
“Love
birds?” Abigail questioned.
“Yeah.
You’re hopelessly in love, even if you fight it sometimes. Anyone would be a
fool not to see it.”
Abigail
appreciated the appraisal of her marriage. Sometimes, even she won-
dered
about the status of her relationship with Aaron, he
could be so distant, and she so petulant. The outsider’s positive view-point
made her smile inside.
“So, when
are you going?” Abigail asked.
“A day or
two, or maybe this afternoon.’
.So
soon?”
“Yeah,
there’s this a guy in town that I thought I’d rather not see again. The soon-
er
I leave the better.”
“What’s
that suppose to mean?” Abigail asked, concerned by Darcy’s remark.
“Well,”
she hedged. “I
kinda
owe him money.”
“What
kind of money?”
“A few
bucks.”
“How many
bucks? I thought you had some stashed away.”
“Well,
that’s sort of run out. Another reason why I should leave.”
“I could
loan you some money,” Abigail offered.
“Oh, no
you don’t. You don’t even think about giving it to me.”
“But if
you’re in trouble.”
“Aw, it’s
not really trouble. And as far as I’m concerned I don’t even owe the guy. He
just thinks I do.”
Darcy was
gathering her things together that morning, Abigail stewing over her need to go
at all. Until that day, her friend seemed perfectly happy to remain with them.
She could only conclude that Darcy was in trouble, real trouble.
Later that
afternoon, when the saucy redhead came in from a quick trip to the mercantile,
her face was flushed and she looked as nervous as Abigail had ever seen her.
“You
remember that offer of money you gave me this morning?” she asked, as
Abigail watched her quickly stuff her bags with clothes.
“Yes.”
“Is it
still open?”
“Sure.
How much.”
“A
hundred dollars,” Darcy winced as she said it realizing it was a sizeable
sum to ask from a friend.
“My word,
what’s happening?” Abigail asked.
“Abby,
really, you can’t be asking questions cause that could be dangerous. But if you
could give me the money, I’ll pay you back, I swear.” Darcy’s desperation
was clear from the strain in her voice.
“I don’t
know, the only place we have that kind of money is in the mill. I’m not sure, I
could get Aaron to go along with this.”
“Oh, no!
Don’t go telling Aaron, he’ll ask all kinds of questions, and would make a real
mess.”
“But if I
take it, the accounts will come up short,” Abigail said.
Darcy turned
away, putting more things into her satchel. Though she hid her face, Abigail
could tell she was in tears. She was scared.
“You
know, I could probably fool with the books a little,” Abigail considered
aloud. “I could
loose
a hundred dollars here or
there. Aaron sometimes has me doing the company accounts. I’ll offer, and he’ll
be delighted for the help.” Even suggesting it, the idea seemed
ridiculous, but then, she’d never the irrepressible Darcy looking so frantic.
“Oh, god,
you’ll probably get in trouble,” Darcy said, as she turned back around.
There were tears, but also a little relief.
“If I do
it right, nothing will show up, and Aaron will never know. If I mess it up…
” she shrugged. “What the hell is
anoth-er
spanking on my butt?” She smiled.
“Good,
god,” Darcy exclaimed taking Abigail in her arms for a hug. “You’re
the dearest friend I’ve ever had. The only friend I’ve ever had.”
“Just you
wait here,” Abigail said, pulling away from her. “And keep your fin-
gers
crossed.” With that, Abigail flashed her friend a
comforting grin and raced down the stairs on her way to the mill.
Chapter
Four
After
breakfast Abigail Barrow went out to hang laundry on the line: bedclothes that
she’d washed at the crack of dawn, when she couldn’t sleep for thinking of
Darcy Greenwood. The proverbial brat and dear best friend had left her under
such dreadful circumstances, she’d been wondering for three days if the young
woman had escaped the clutches of the man who was after her. Abigail wasn’t
even thinking of the crime she’d committed herself to help Darcy: with hardly a
second thought stealing the hundred dollars from her husband Aaron’s mill.
However, the very idea of pilfering the money was perpetually in the back of
her mind, as she knew the consequences of being found out by Aaron would be
disastrous. She didn’t even want to think of how her husband would punish her.
Looking about
her, at least the day was a clear cool one at eight in the morning. Aaron was
at the mill, she was tending to her work. Hopefully as the days passed, she could
clear her mind and let her troubles fade into memory. Breathing deep, she let
the morning air fill her lungs. She sighed and looked toward the clear blue of
the sky and the gently moving trees in the distance. Then bending down she was
about to take another sheet from her basket and fix it to the line.
“
Pssst
,
pssst
,” Abigail heard
the sound call her from her pleasant moment, “Abby,” the whispered
voice was unmistakable. She jerked around.
“Darcy!”
Abigail exclaimed.
“Shush.”
Abigail heard
the woman’s raspy voice, but she could barely see her. The redheaded Darcy
Greenwood was at the edge of the house, hidden by a tall hawthorn bush.
“What are
you doing?” Abigail gasped, seeing her friend’s weary face, and tom
clothes.
“Shush!”
Darcy repeated. Abigail could see the concern in Darcy’s expression as the
woman motioned Abigail to her side.
“Whatever
is going on?” Abigail asked as she moved several paces to where Darcy was
crouching down at the ground trying to stay out of sight.
“He could
be anywhere,” Darcy said.
“Who?”
“You
know. That guy that wants me. Burt.”
“Did he
follow you?”
“I think
so.”
“Darcy,
this looks a lot more serious than you told me when you left,” Abigail
exclaimed.
“It is.
But I can’t explain now. You have to help me. I need food and some clothes,
that’s all. I’m staying in the old barn just off the road.”
“At the
burned out house?”
“Yeah.”
“Why
don’t you stay here?”
“No!
Never! I’m not going to get you involved in this.”
“I
already am.”
“Abigail,
don’t be stupid. All I need is a little help, and I’ll be on my way.”
Looking down
at her, Abigail could see that Darcy’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes were
without the piss and vinegar that she always associated with her friend.
“Are you okay?” she asked, reaching down to feel her forehead.
“Yeah,
I’m okay.” Darcy shook her off.
“I’m all
right, this has been going on since I left. It’s due to break soon.”
“Well,
you’re not going back to a drafty old barn. You’re staying here.”
“No, I’m
not!” Darcy shot back. “I just need to you to dress me up in a nice
dress so I don’t look like myself, and then get me some food.”
“Well at
least come inside while I’m getting your things.”
“No. I’d
rather wait here.”
When Darcy was
stubborn, she was impossible to reason with. And she was being impossible now.
Caught up in
Darcy Greenwood’s sordid life once more, Abigail’s heart was beating fast,
knowing for certain that no good would come of this foolishness. But, as usual,
she couldn’t deny Darcy what she wanted. Casting a furtive glance about her, to
see if anyone was watching them, she decided that they were quite alone, and
she moved swiftly toward the porch. After scurrying about the house for several
minutes gathering the things that her friend needed and a few she’d forgotten
to mention Abigail returned to the old hawthorn bush to find Darcy practically
sleeping against the side of the house.
“You
can’t be serious about this, Dare,” Abigail whispered to her. “You
come inside, and I’ll take care of you.”
“No, I
won’t,” Darcy said waking up. She grabbed the bundle of things from
Abigail’s hands began dressing in the old, but very feminine frock that Abigail
had brought her.
“I
though
the bonnet might help?” Abigail said.
“Hide your hair.”
“Yeah,
that’s great, just what I need.”
“I don’t
like the looks of this at all,” Abigail said shaking her head.
“I know,
and that’s why I’m going to put as little burden on you as possible. I’ve
already gotten you too involved.”
“I want
to help, Darcy, I just want to do it right.”
“Believe
me, you’re doing the right thing. Now if you could just casually walk with me
to the road, like we’re two old friends.”
“I’ll see
you to your hideaway, thank you,” Abigail said indignantly. “You’ll
see I can be stubborn too.”
“Okay,
but that’s all,” she replied. “So how do I look?”
The wisp of an
urchin woman stood up, looking much more fashionable and demure than she would
ever look if it had been her choice. Abigail wanted to chuckle seeing Darcy
looking so commonly attired, but the seriousness of the moment prevented that
first feeling to surface.
“You look
like a regular church going young woman,” Abigail replied with a smile.
“Though you also look terribly sick.”
“Yeah, I
just need to lay down. Let’s go.”
The walk to
the old barn was little more than a mile down the main road. The two women
struck out looking like old friends going for a morning stroll. Reaching the
old barn, it was clear that Darcy had stayed there every night since she’d left
the Barrow home. Tucked away in the corner of the sagging building there was a
spot of fresh hay where she’d made her bed, along with a few things that she’d
been traveling with. Making certain she’d be all right, Abigail stayed with her
awhile, finding water to cool her forehead and quench her thirst. Time past,
Abigail not thinking about how long. She hated to leave Darcy there, especially
when she was sick. But nearly lunchtime, she had little choice but to leave,
lest Aaron discovers she’d been away without his knowledge.
“I do
have to go,” she said, drawing away from Darcy.
“I’ll be
all right,” the redhead assured her.
“But I am
coming back this afternoon to check on you,” Abigail said.
“No,
please,” Darcy pleaded in her weak voice, though she hardly had the
strength to protest. The woman was tired, her body limp from the exertion of
the day, and she let her head fall back against the pillow of straw, drifting
off to sleep.
Seeing how
sick she was, Abigail was determined to return that afternoon. Making that
resolution, she left the barn. And closing the door quietly behind her, she
briskly made her way down the road home. To Abigail’s dismay, the moment she
crossed the doorway into her kitchen she knew she was in for trouble. Aaron was
there with eyes flashing, and a terrible grimace on his handsome face.
“Where
have you been?” he blared.
“I, I uh
… ” She stumbled over her words. Oh! Why hadn’t she gotten her story
clear in her mind? She mourned silently to herself. Aaron was never there at
11:00 in the morning, and finding him home left her totally flustered for some
reasonable excuse. Though none came.
“Since
that escapade of yours to Old Hannah’s, I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t
be going anywhere without telling me?” Aaron reminded her.