by Jenna Brandt
A loud thud, followed by vibration caused the whole room to shake. What was going on in the bar now? Frustrated, Abigail’s eyes darted around the room again, not even sure what she was looking for. When her eyes settled on a broom, she rushed towards it and picked it up. She raised it high in the air and slammed it down on the ground, knowing the sound would carry to the bar below. The action felt good, and without thinking, she did it again, and again, and again, until finally she was out of breath from beating the ground with the stick.
She moved back over to the chair and let her body sag against it. If that didn’t make the point, she wasn’t sure what would. Almost as if to prove her wrong, there was a loud thud and several laughs that came rolling through the office.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough!” Abigail shouted at the top of her lungs. She jumped from the chair and rushed from the office. She flew down the stairs and straight into the Westwind.
There were three men setting at the bar, with Andy behind it serving drinks. There were also two tables full of men playing cards towards the back. Mason was nowhere in sight.
All of the men in the bar turned to look at her. Several of the men looked shocked to see her standing in the bar, while others seemed curious.
She marched into the center of the room, then placed her hands on her hips as she glared at each of the men. “Can you please keep from making so much noise down here?”
“What are you talking about, missy?” one of the older men at the tables asked in confusion. “Where did you come from?”
“The office for the bar is above this place, and I can hear everything going on down here. I need to be working on fixing the bar’s bookkeeping.”
There was a bunch of snickers around the room before another man at the table asked, “And why do you need to be doing that?”
Before she could answer though, a third man spoke up for her. “That’s Stillwell’s woman, you know, the one the matchmaker set him up with. She’s probably trying to impress him.”
“That’s her?” the second man asked with shock. “I heard she was a looker, and boy was Ted right. He also mentioned she was as mean as a mama bear defending her cub.” Raising his eyebrows in contemplation, he added a moment later, “Sounds about right.”
“I’m standing right here,” Abigail pointed out with anger. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not. And since you know who I am, you should know that things are going to change around here. I’m not going to let—”
Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her arm. Her head snapped to the side, ready to bark at whoever it was that had the audacity to touch her. She refrained; however, when she realized it was Andy.
“I think you should take a break, Miss Abigail. Why don’t I have one of the men I trust take you back to Mr. Redburn’s place. I’ll have the boss come talk to you after he gets back from running errands.”
“I appreciate your concern, Mr. Winslow, but I don’t need you trying to handle me.” She turned her attention back to the customers, glaring at them with disgust. “It’s about time someone addressed the lack of proper behavior in this place. It’s ridiculous for grown men to be acting like children.”
“What did you just say about us?” a man with a jagged scar along his right cheek stood up from the bar and glared at her. He wore a long, dusty black coat with cowboy boots and a handkerchief around his neck. As he approached her, Abigail’s initial instinct was to retract away from him, but she didn’t want to seem weak. She stood up straight and rolled her shoulders back, returning his glare.
“You heard me,” she stated firmly, not wanting to back down.
“No, I don’t think I did. I think a woman like you has no business being in a place like this or talking to men the way you just did.”
“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m Mr. Stillwell’s fiancée,” Abigail proclaimed, wanting to provide some validity for her reason to be in the bar and addressing the customers.
“I don’t care who you are. You better shut your mouth before someone shuts it for you,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her roughly by the arm.
He yanked her so hard against him, it made her head pop up as a result. When her eyes locked with the menacing stranger’s set, not a trace of kindness or regard was visible, and she realized she might have upset the wrong man. She wasn’t in Baltimore anymore, and she didn’t have the protection of her father—or even Mason at the moment. What had her temper gotten her into?
Chapter Twelve
“You better take your hands off of her right now!” Abigail heard Mason yell as he marched into the bar. “You’re not familiar in these parts, but we don’t take kindly to men treating women that way around here.”
“Especially her, she’s Stillwell’s soon-to-be wife,” one of the men commented from the back.
“He’s right on that account,” Mason agreed, pushing his shoulders back as he moved forward until he was only inches from the stranger. “She’s the last woman you want to mess with.”
It looked like for a moment the stranger was going to back off because he let go of Abigail, but suddenly, he reached back and slung his closed hand at Mason’s face. The stranger’s fist connected with his jaw. The pain was intense and radiated down Mason’s body, causing him to stumble back. He regained his footing and prepared himself for a fight by raising his own fists.
The man took another swing at Mason. He dodged it this time, and then returned it with one of his own. Mason’s fist landed on the man’s nose, causing blood to trickle out and the man to grunt in pain. The stranger must have been in a lot of fights before because he didn’t retreat or cover his face, instead, he went to strike Mason again. Mason moved to the side, saving his face this time, but the punch hit him in the shoulder instead, causing him to drop his defense. The man followed through with another two hits to the stomach, and suddenly Mason found himself on the ground, the stranger on top of him, and his hands choking the life from him.
He used to be able to fight better than this. It seemed that five years out of the military had made him soft when it came to fighting. Was this how he was going to die? Was it going to say on his tombstone, killed by a stranger unable to defend his fiancée? What an embarrassing end that would be.
There was a loud thump, and whatever caused it made the stranger lose his grip. Welcomed fresh air rushed into Mason’s lungs, causing the spots and bright colors to fall away. Maybe he wouldn’t die after all.
He pushed the unconscious stranger off of him, and noticed for the first time, Abigail standing over him. She had a remnant of a broken chair in her hands, the rest of it laid sprinkled around him and the stranger.
“Are you okay?” she inquired with tears in her eyes. She dropped the wooden fragment from her hands and fell to her knees beside Mason.
He nodded, letting out a small grunt. “I think so.”
“I thought he was going to kill you,” Abigail choked out, the tears now slipping down her cheeks.
“We did too,” one of the men from the card tables shouted.
“If he had, it would have been all my fault. I should have never come here,” Abigail lamented.
“Why did you?” Mason probed with curiosity. “We didn’t have plans until later tonight.”
“I wanted to do something nice for you, so I came to help you with your bookkeeping, but there was so much noise down here, I came to ask them to quieten down.”
“She did more than ask us,” one of the drunk men grumbled from the bar. “She demanded it.”
A blush covered Abigail’s cheeks as she nodded. “I might have been a little harsher than I needed to be.” Looking up at all of the men, she softly said with a sniff, “I’m sorry, gentlemen. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did earlier.”
Many of the men nodded and several mumbled that it was all right. Andy came over to them and helped Mason up, with Abigail on the other side.
“I went and got the sheriff to take that fellow in for disorderly conduct,”
Andy explained. “I wouldn’t have left if I thought he was going to nearly kill you.”
Abigail started to cry again as the sheriff picked up the stranger from the floor and placed iron handcuffs on him. “You can come down and give me your account of what happened later when you’re feeling a bit better, Stillwell.”
The sheriff escorted the man out of the bar while everyone went back to talking and drinking.
“Do you mind holding down the bar the rest of the night?” Mason asked Andy, knowing he wasn’t going to feel good enough to do anything else for the rest of it.
“Sure thing, boss.”
“Do you mind helping me upstairs, Abigail?” Mason requested.
“Of course not.”
Abigail guided Mason up the stairs and through the office. She helped him into his room and onto the edge of his bed.
“I really am sorry about what happened,” Abigail apologized again. “I never would have thought helping you with your bookkeeping would result in you nearly dying.”
“You couldn’t have known, and for the record, it was very sweet of you to do that. I noticed how nice everything looked as we came through the office. You must have spent hours up here.”
Abigail nodded. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Oh, I was surprised,” he said with a chuckle, then grunted due to the pain. “I shouldn’t laugh for a while. I forgot how much bruised ribs hurt.”
Abigail reached out and touched the side of his chest. “Mercy, how many fights have you been in?”
“During my youth? More than a dozen, but I’ve put those days behind me. Hence, why I got pulverized just now. I’m not as good as I once was.”
“You still seem pretty good to me,” Abigail whispered, as her eyelashes fluttered over her perfect coffee-colored pools.
Her lips looked inviting, and without being able to help it, Mason found himself leaning forward and claiming her mouth with his own. They felt even better than they looked. The velvety softness of them slid against his like butter. He reached out and let his arm move around her, and when she didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss.
She cooed softly, enticing him to take it further. If he wasn’t careful, Mason would be pulling her back onto the bed. He didn’t want to do that to her though, knowing she was a proper woman. He wanted to honor his future wife and not cause her to regret being alone with him.
Gently, he pulled back from the kiss. “For never having a beau, you’re a mighty fine kisser.”
Abigail’s whole body blushed this time from the top of her head to her hands. “Glad to hear it. I should be going though, before someone tells Widow Briggs I came up here alone with you.”
“That’s probably a good idea, I’ll come around tomorrow to pick you up for dinner.”
Abigail nodded before retreating from the room. As he watched her leave, he realized he was starting to have feelings for his future wife. He hadn’t planned it, but he’d take another hundred beatings if it meant he got to kiss Abigail again.
Chapter Thirteen
The news that Abigail’s sister got married spread through town like wildfire. It was hurtful enough Alice didn’t even tell Abigail, but the fact that it was a quick affair with just Alice’s chaperone and the pastor present made it so much worse. It put Alice in the worst possible light, making everyone speculate as to what had happened to cause it to occur so rapidly.
Abigail heard the other girls whispering about Alice and how it was possible she had been caught in a compromising situation. If that was the case, did Alice think she didn’t have another choice? Why didn’t she think she could confide in Abigail? Was their relationship so far gone that she didn’t think to include her in the most important day of her life?
Despite her not including Abigail, she still worried that her sister had been forced into a marriage she didn’t want to protect her reputation. If it was true, would she be able to find happiness with a man who didn’t love her?
“Are you thinking about your sister again?” Mason inquired with a frown from across the table. “You should just go out to the farm and talk to her. I’ll go with you if you like.”
Abigail shook her head. “She didn’t want me to know. If she did, she could have come to me before she went through with it, or send word for me to come to the wedding. At the very least, she could have come and told me after the wedding. She did none of those things.”
“You shouldn’t stay mad at her. She’s your sister after all, and from what you’ve told me, not the most mature woman in the world. She probably got caught up in the romance of the whole thing and didn’t realize until after, how much it would hurt not to include you.”
“Or she didn’t think about me at all,” Abigail mumbled under her breath. “It would be just like her to be selfish enough to forget all about me, despite the fact I came to Bent for her.”
A look of confused disappointment crossed Mason’s face. “What did you just say? Did you just say you only came to Bent for your sister?”
Abigail’s eyes flew up to meet Mason’s. “At first, that’s true, but as I’ve gotten to know you over the past couple of weeks, I’ve come to realize coming here was exactly what I needed. I’m happy with my choice now.”
Mason relaxed as he leaned back in his chair. “You had me worried for a moment. I thought you might bolt back to Baltimore at any moment if something sparked the notion.”
Abigail nodded. “I’m here with you, Mason. Nothing is going to change that.”
Though she was hurt by her sister’s decision to not include her in her wedding, at least she had Mason now. The possibility of having her own happy marriage made it more bearable.
“I have something I want to discuss with you.” Abigail bit her lip, hesitating as she wondered if Mason would be open to discussing the matter.
“Oh, what’s that?”
“I noticed something while I’ve been working on the books for the business. The numbers and letters are all mixed up, almost like you had a hard time telling them apart.”
“What does that mean?” Mason asked, his brows coming together in a confused furrow.
“As you know, I love to read and while I was studying to be a librarian, I often volunteered to help at the local library in Baltimore. I would often pick up books to read that were interesting to me. One of the books talked about people suffering from word blindness.”
“What’s that?”
“It means you place letters and words out of order, which makes reading and writing difficult. It would explain why you have such a difficulty with your bookkeeping.”
“Is there a way to fix it?”
“Yes, there are techniques and exercises that can help you with it. I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering a book that will help you. Since it’s such a new idea, it’s not surprising your teachers didn’t notice, or if they did notice something was wrong, decided it meant you weren’t smart. For the record, that’s not the case. The books I read back in Baltimore were clear that it’s not a sign of a lack of intelligence. An astute individual can suffer from this affliction.” When Mason didn’t respond right away, Abigail quickly added, “If I’ve overstepped, please forgive me. I simply wanted to help you once I realized what was going on.”
Mason shook his head. “No, I’m not upset; just the opposite. I’m touched you cared enough to do all of that. I’ve never had anyone care about me so much.”
He reached out and squeezed her hand.
“I do care, and I want to help you in any way I can,” Abigail said, clasping his hand in return. Pleased with how he responded to the first matter, she decided to be brave and bring up something else that had been bothering her. “I have one more matter to discuss with you.”
“And what’s that?”
“I was wondering if you would be willing to go with me to church on Sunday.”
Mason’s brows furrowed together in contemplation. “Though I believe in God, and pray and read my Bible every day, I’ve never
been one to attend church. Between my days in the military and as a ranch hand, the people that attended church often looked down on me. Once I became a bar owner, I was certain I wouldn’t be welcome in church.”
“I can understand your reservations. Not all Christians behave the way the Lord would want them too. Have you ever tried to attend church here in Bent?” When Mason shook his head, she added, “I’ve found the people, not to mention the preacher, to be wonderful. I think you would find it different here.”
“You know what, I’ve come to value your opinion, Abigail. If you say church is different here in Bent, I’m willing to give it a try.”
“Thank you. I don’t think you will regret it.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mason met Abigail at Mr. Redburn’s house and walked with her to church the following Sunday. They entered the little white church on the hill a few minutes before the service was to begin.
Two women—Mason thought he recognized them from the brides that came into town with Abigail and her sister—were waving at them from across the room.
“You both made it. I’m so glad you’re here,” a young, dark-haired woman said bouncing up to Abigail and Mason.
The woman’s hair was slipping out of a bun and her outfit was less put together than the other woman next to her. It was as if she was trying to figure out how to dress as a lady, but hadn’t quite figured it out yet. Though she didn’t look the part of a refined woman, she was kind and friendly. Mason would take the latter over the former any day.
Abigail smiled at the other woman. “Yes, I told you we would be here, Bert.”
“I know, I just kept worrying something would happen to keep him away. He’s always so busy with that bar of his.”
The second woman, who also had dark hair and eyes but appeared a bit older, hugged Abigail. “You look so pretty in that dress.”
“Thank you, Jasmine. I’m glad to see you both here. I wouldn’t have made it through the past couple of weeks without the support from the both of you.”