by Lily Reynard
Her face grew hot. She had never in her life imagined talking about something so deeply private as her menses with a man.
Why is so hard to discuss a simple fact of life with someone who has seen me naked, and who has kissed and touched every inch of me?
She forged ahead, determined to finish her story. "—but the bleeding didn't stop. I was becoming anemic and weak from losing so much blood. So Father examined me. He discovered that I had tumors in my womb that were life-threatening. He told me that the only way to save my life would be to perform a hysterectomy, but the surgery was risky."
"A hysterectomy?" Dan repeated, as if the word was unfamiliar to him. It probably was, since he hadn't been raised in a physician's household as she had been.
"Father hired one of the best surgeons in Philadelphia to remove my womb," she said flatly.
Dan reached between them and traced the long, thin white scar that bisected her belly with a gentle fingertip. Father had sutured the incision himself, his neat, small stitches minimizing the scarring. "I'd wondered how you hurt yourself there."
"And now you know the truth. Dan, I can never be the wife that you want, because I could never give you children."
And now he'll push me away. Abby told herself that she wouldn't weep until he was safely gone from her room.
Instead, Dan cupped her cheek in his hand, and kissed her, as sweetly and as gently as if she were a fragile glass ornament.
"I would be the happiest man in the world if you decided to say 'yes' and marry me, Abby. I thank you for telling me about your condition, but it doesn't make a lick of difference. I want you, Abby. I want to go to sleep in your arms every night and wake up next to you every morning. I want to live here with you and Christopher and my brother, and I want us to grow old together."
He still wants to marry me. Abby's vision blurred. Despite her vow not to cry, hot tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes, soaking into her hair.
"Abby?" Dan's thumb brushed gently at the wet tracks on her cheeks and temple. "Don't cry, love, please. I swear to you, if you choose him, Jim won't care, either." She saw him smile ruefully. "Though I'm still hoping that you'll pick me."
"But what about all those children you and Jim want?" Abby's voice wavered. She didn't want Dan to abandon his dream of having a large family. "Arthur was so angry when I told him the truth about—about my barren state."
"Arthur sounds like a damned fool. You're a great catch, Abby, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You're beautiful, kind, and good with children."
"Children that I'll never be able to have," she reminded him, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
"Would you be open to adopting?" he asked, still stroking her face. "Life is rough out here on the frontier. There are always orphans who need a home. Even if it isn't the fruit of our loins, we could give a child the gift of a home and loving parents."
"I hadn't thought of it that way," she confessed. "I was so worried about finding a way to tell you the truth so that you wouldn't be disappointed and angry."
"I would never get angry about something like that," Dan said indignantly. "Not something you couldn't help. I'm just glad that your Dad and that surgeon were able to save your life."
He kissed her again.
As his kiss deepened and his hands began to rove, reawakening her hunger for him, she realized that the unfamiliar emotion fizzing through her like champagne was hope.
◆◆◆
The next morning, Dan and James were in the stables, mucking out stalls before breakfast. No one else was around.
Huritt was out in the paddock, halter training the foals, and the ranch hands were elsewhere doing their morning chores.
"So, did you have a chance to court our sweet girl last night?" Jim asked, heaving a shovel-full of straw and manure into a wheelbarrow.
"I did," Dan replied warily.
Sure, he and Jim had shared women before, but never a woman they each hoped to marry.
"Good," Jim said, a little too heartily. "I mean, I'm glad everything's out in the open, no need for either of us to get jealous." He paused as he heaved another shovel-full. "How'd it go?"
"Good," Dan said. And I'll be damned if I share any of the details. Abby deserves better than that.
However, there was something important that he needed to tell his brother. "Hey, I found out why Abby's so gun-shy about getting hitched."
"Yeah, she told me about that flannel-mouthed four-flusher Arthur," Jim said, his mouth twisting like he'd just tasted something rotten.
"That's part of it," Dan agreed. "But she was all tied up in knots because she can’t have babies, and someone put it in her head that she couldn't ever be a real wife on account of that."
"Did she seem accepting of the notion of adopting a kid or three?" Jim asked instantly. Before Dan could answer, he shook his head. "Well, now everything’s starting to make sense. Poor Abby. She really dodged a bullet by not marrying that fancy bastard."
"And it's not like family is necessarily about blood ties," Dan agreed. "It's about finding people to love and sticking together through anything. Abby's going to make a fine part of our little family, especially since she and Chris seem real fond of one another."
Jim nodded. "Well, now, since that's settled, we need to convince her that she’s not broken because she can’t have babies."
"I agree," Dan said, leaning on his own shovel. "But how are we going convince her? I mean, I already told her I didn't care and that you probably wouldn't care, either." He shook his head. "Deep down, I don't think she believed me. Maybe she thinks we're intent on sweet-talking her so that she'll sleep with us. We need to convince her that we're courting her for real."
"I've never met a woman like her," Jim said. "And I'm head over heels for her, Dan. I never thought that would happen to me."
Dan laughed. "Yeah, I feel the same way. Our Abby is something precious, and I got it bad for her. I even told her I wanted us to grow old together and damned if it wasn't the truth. She'll always be beautiful to me, even when we're both as wrinkled as raisins."
"I guess it's up to her." Jim pulled off one of his leather work gloves and reached into his pocket. "Let's flip a coin and see which one of us gets to ask her to the dance that Mrs. Kottinger is hosting on Friday night."
"Heads, I win," Dan called as Jim flipped a shiny copper penny into the air.
His brother caught it and slapped it down over the back of his hand. Then he looked at it and cursed.
Dan laughed and slapped Jim on the shoulder. "I guess I'll be the one asking Miss Abby to the dance," he gloated.
Chapter 18
"You want to take me to a dance?" Abby asked incredulously that evening, after dinner. "In town? Where everyone will see us together?"
After Christopher had been tucked into his crib, Dan had asked her to go for a walk with him.
Dan stopped and turned to face her. Long, slanting bars of sunlight gilded his tanned features and highlighted the faint shadow of dark stubble along his strong jaw. He looked so handsome that her breath caught in her throat.
He also looked hurt. "What's the problem with that?" he challenged her. "Don't want to be seen with me?"
"No," she protested. "It's not that at all. It's just—you and Jim promised to keep our relationship a secret!"
And now he was proposed that they flaunt it…in front of the entire town. And worse, in front of Emma, who was the organizer and hostess of the weekly event held in the Hotel Bede's large dining room.
Dan blew out a frustrated breath. "Abby, I have no idea what things are like in Philadelphia, but out here, attending a dance organized by the preacher's wife, with a man interested in courting you, isn't going to ruin your reputation."
"But—" Abby began.
He shook his head. "You don't understand…you could probably turn up at that dance wearing nothing but your undergarments and an eagle feather war bonnet, and the only thing that would happen is that you'd hav
e even more men courting you."
She stared at him in shock. Back home, she had felt like her every word and action were being scrutinized for the merest hint of impropriety.
He continued, "As long as folk are peaceable and get along with their neighbors, we don't judge too harshly in these parts. And that's doubly true if you're female, because there are so few of the fairer sex around."
Dan raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed each of her fingers with deliberate tenderness. "I will freely admit that I'm looking forward to showing you off, but more than that, I don't want you to feel that you're trapped here on this ranch. The dances are fun, nearly everybody in town turns up, and I'd be honored if you'd let me escort you."
How long has it been since I last went dancing?
After the scandal of her broken engagement, she had scarcely left the house. There had been no more invitations, and none of her former friends wanted to call upon her or receive her. Her disgrace and ostracism had been complete.
"When you put it like that," Abby said, "How can I refuse? Besides, I love to dance."
"Good. Then it's settled." Dan looped her arm through his and they resumed their walk. "Oh, and there's one more thing."
"Yes?" Abby's mind was already racing ahead to Friday evening and musing on her limited wardrobe.
"If you're so inclined, it would be deeply appreciated if you took a turn around the dance floor with anyone who asks you." He gave a short chuckle. "As much as I'd like to keep you all to myself, it's just good manners to share, especially since there are a lot of men in Twin Forks who are missing their mothers, sisters, and sweethearts."
"Of course," said Abby. She added with complete sincerity, "I'm really looking forward to it."
◆◆◆
For the first time in her life, Abby found herself the belle of the ball.
The dance was held in the Hotel Bede's large dining room. All of the tables had been cleared away for the occasion, except for a rectangular banquet table that had moved to the back wall. It held a bowl of punch surrounded by an array of clean glasses of various shapes and sizes, and plates of sandwiches, sliced cake, and cookies.
When Dan and Abby arrived, the dance was already in full swing.
An energetic three-man band playing fiddle, guitar, and accordion filled the room with music that set toes to tapping.
Abby immediately spotted Emma and Texas Mattie being energetically whirled around the floor by miners dressed in their Sunday best, along with Mrs. O'Sullivan, a plump red-headed lady of mature years dressed in a bright green ruffled skirt and neat cream-colored shirtwaist fronted by a double row of lace.
There were six or seven other women at the dance that Abby knew by sight but not name. All of them were soiled doves, but tonight, they had dressed up and looked like they were enjoying themselves.
Those miners without female dance partners danced with other men, some of whom had tied white kerchiefs around their upper arms.
"Abby!" Emma called, a bit breathlessly, when the song ground to a halt.
She hurried across the dance floor and embraced Abby warmly, kissing her on the cheek. "I'm so glad you came!"
She turned to Dan and offered her hand. "And you, too, Mr. Brody! But where is your brother?"
Dan squeezed her fingers politely. "Thanks for organizing this dance, Mrs. Kottinger. Jim stayed home to babysit Chris. It'll be his turn to accompany Miss Rose next week."
Her gray eyes dancing, Emma looked from Abby to Dan and back at Abby. It was clear she was dying to ask Abby the details.
"You look lovely," Abby said. "That color suits you."
Not only was it true, but it was also an excellent diversion from the uncomfortable topic of the Brody brothers' unorthodox courtship tactics.
"Thank you! I ordered a pattern and sewed it myself." Emma was clad in a lovely blue gown that showed off her graceful neck and swan shoulders and flattered her bosom. She wore a modest gold locket on a thin gold chain and crocheted white lace gloves that rose to her elbows.
Abby belatedly remembered the gingersnaps she had baked this afternoon as her contribution to the dance, and offered her friend a basket containing three dozen cookies.
"I originally made four dozen, but a quarter of them mysteriously went missing while they were cooling," she told Emma, giving Dan an accusing sideways glance.
With an expression of innocence, Dan raised his hands. "I had nothing to do with it. But I may have seen Jim and Mukki launching a stealthy raid on the kitchen while you were changing Chris's diaper." He grinned at Emma. "It was pure torture…we could smell those cookies baking all the way out to the stables."
Isaiah had asked Abby to make more cookies soon, and the other residents of the Pronghorn Springs Ranch had enthusiastically seconded his suggestion. She had always enjoyed baking, and her pleasure was heightened by the knowledge that she would be making her new friends and lovers happy.
"Thank you," Emma said, cradling the basket in her arms. Dimples appeared in her cheeks as she beamed at Abby. "I love gingersnaps. I'll make sure to take one or two for myself before the starving hordes descend."
The musicians launched into a rousing rendition of "Locked Out After Nine."
Emma gestured at the crowded dance floor. "Enjoy yourselves!"
Then she was gone, moving towards the refreshment table with brisk steps.
Dan claimed the first dance, and Abby enjoyed whirling around the crowded dance floor in his strong arms.
Then, as he had predicted, she spent the next three hours dancing with a succession of Twin Forks residents who approached her with polite, often shy requests. In between, she and Dan managed two or three more dances together.
"I'm a little jealous," he joked as he managed to claim her for a polka. "Too much competition here. I may lose you."
"No man here can equal your charms, Mr. Brody," she told him with feigned solemnity. "Except, perhaps, the other Mr. Brody."
He threw his head back and laughed, his white teeth gleaming in the lamplight. "Well, now, that's a relief."
"It's true. Your only real competition at the moment is your brother," she added daringly, keeping her voice low.
"Ouch. I'll just have to work harder to convince you of my worthiness," he replied.
They stayed until the end, when the refreshments had been reduced to a few crumbs and a shallow, sticky puddle of punch, and the musicians finally ran out of steam.
Emma, Abby and the remaining guests helped to clean up while Dan headed outside to retrieve Pollux and hitch him to the wagon.
Then, with the dining room tidied up and ready to serve breakfast to the hotel's guests in the morning, she exchanged hugs with a tired but radiant Emma.
"Well?" Emma demanded. "Tell me everything!"
Abby's cheeks grew hot. "There's nothing to tell," she lied.
"Well, Daniel seems quite smitten," Emma observed tartly.
"And I've agreed to let Jim squire me to next week's dance," Abby said.
"So, you haven't decided which one appeals to you more?"
This question, at least, Abby could answer honestly. "No. Not yet."
She and Dan spent the first part of the wagon ride home under the stars in comfortable silence.
He held the reins in one hand, and put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned close and enjoyed the cool, pine-scented night air in his company. He'd hung two kerosene lanterns on the wagon to light Pollux's way home, and they bathed the wagon in a soft golden glow.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Dan asked finally.
"I had a wonderful time. And everyone was so kind," Abby said. "Thank you for a marvelous evening, Dan."
He chuckled and pulled her close. "Well, I sure do hope that you're not telling me that the evening's over." He bent and kissed her with gentle thoroughness that made her blood sing. "Since I had to stand around and watch you dancing with all of those other men, I was hoping to have you to myself for the rest of the night."
"I'
m sure we can come to some sort of agreement about that, Mr. Brody," she said demurely.
"Or I could try and convince you another way."
"Oh?" She raised her brows in a delicate challenge.
He removed the arm he had draped around her shoulders and reached down for the hem of her heavy silk skirt. She had worn her nicest outfit to the dance, though, as an unmarried young lady, her shoulders and bosom had remained modestly covered by a high-necked blouse.
He raised her skirt and the petticoats beneath and piled the fabric in her lap. She felt a rush of cool air on her stockings and lacy drawers, and she shivered with excitement.