by Annie Boone
A Troubled Friendship
Annie Boone
A Mail Order Bride Short Story
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are products of the author’s imagination. Any misrepresentation or discrepancies about the places or history are research or interpretation errors by the author.
For more information about the author, Annie Boone, check out her website.
http://www.AnnieBoone.com
Chapter One
“Come quickly, Abigail!” Fiona Dearing cried, as she pushed the door shut against the gusting wind to keep the dust and grit of the Kansas City summer out of her friend's sweet little house. “Come and see what your own darling Fiona has managed to accomplish. I believe I bought most of the ready to wear clothing Nina Taylor had in her shop!”
“My own darling, dear Fiona, indeed,” Abigail Witherspoon said smiling. Sweeping Fiona up in a loving embrace, she rocked her friend from side to side. “You are betrothed to Trevor Booker now! Why is it that your best friend in all the world almost had to read about your engagement in The Kansas City Times? If my husband hadn’t been a newspaper man I would have been just like all those not fortunate enough to know the stunning Fiona Dearing.”
Fiona paled. She looked as though she might be sick for a moment, a pained expression on her face.
“What's wrong, my love? Are you feeling out of sorts suddenly?” Abby asked with true concern for her friend’s obvious change in demeanor. She pulled Fiona over to a blue damask sofa then moved the boxes she had placed there to the floor beside the couch. She then sat down beside her friend and took her hand. “Did something you eat settle poorly on your stomach? Let me fetch you a cup of tea.”
Abigail had barely risen from the sofa when Fiona grabbed her hand.
“Something has settled poorly alright, but it wasn’t anything I’ve eaten. Trevor Booker. He is my problem,” she responded. Fiona's beautiful creamy complexion darkened until red splotches shone high on her rounded cheeks. “The whole town is laughing at me, Abby. That awful coward didn’t even have the decency to break our match in person. Mae Whitson told me. Of course she was thrilled to be the first one to see me after the news was public. A parlor maid knew of this treachery before I did. The embarrassment.”
“Told you what?” Abby said gently, seeing the distress in Fiona's gray eyes.
“Trevor has married that strumpet from the saloon. Married her! That girl with the legs taller than my whole body,” Fiona whined.
“What? He got married?” responded Abby. She sounded surprised, but not outraged at the news that was upsetting her dear friend.
“Tell me you remember her, Abigail,” Fiona demanded crossly. “When we first arrived here from Pennsylvania, I saw Trevor walking down the street with her. Why, she stopped walking and danced a jig right there on the street in front of Edmond's Mercantile! It was quite risqué.”
Abigail reminisced softly, “Oh, well, I do recall that my Frank was as shocked as you were by that brash display. Certainly we had never seen anything like that in Pittsburgh.” Abby covered her generous mouth as she tried not to laugh, blue eyes sparkling. “Frank had me repeat the steps for him when we first moved into this house, though. Apparently, he was more taken by the dance than he let on to at first.”
“Please Abby, this is not humorous,” Fiona grumped. Then she jumped up and began to pace around the room.
“Settle down, Fi,” responded Abigail. “I don’t mean to make you angry. It will all work out just as well.”
“I declare you find the strangest things amusing. You’re making light of my situation, Abigail! This is humiliating!” Fiona raised her voice to a shrill level.
“I’m sorry about your situation, Fiona. I don’t mean to laugh or make light of it,” responded Abigail sincerely. “But please do calm down.”
“I will calm down when I get ready!” she responded. “Madeline Porter is a creature of low character. Now my reputation is tarnished by Trevor's association with her!” Fiona stamped one small booted foot, “Actually, no. His marriage to such a person.” Fiona began opening packages, flinging gossamer-fine stockings and colorful dresses over her friend's tidy parlor.
Abby looked around the room, trying to think of the right words to help her friend. She usually had the perfect responses, but this was an unusual turn of events. “I’m really sorry Trevor has had the bad judgment to marry someone like Miss Porter.”
“Well, he will regret the day he crossed me. There shall be no doubt about that,” Fiona declared with certainty.
“Come here, my sweet,” Abby cooed, patting Fiona’s shoulder encouragingly. “Of course Trevor has made a grave mistake. That’s a very honest statement if I must say so. Never would I suggest differently. Are you not my oldest and most cherished friend, a friend that I hold dearest to my heart? You mean more to me than the sweet air that I breathe. My loyalty is always to you and that shall never change.”
Fiona crossed the room and nestled in beside Abby. “I know you love me, Abby. I know you would never say anything to hurt me on purpose,” she pouted.
“We do need to speak honestly, though, Fiona. I owe you that and you should listen with an open mind.” Abby spoke in an even tone that made her intentions known.
“Of course you’re right,” Fiona replied as she looked away from her friend. She knew she needed to hear the truth but she didn’t really want to deal with it.
“So let me soothe the sting a little bit, dear. He was never a suitable match for you. Your temperaments were much too different for true compatibility.”
Abby wisely failed to mention that both she and her husband, Frank, had pointed out many times that they were very different during Fiona and Trevor's courtship. Those conversations had rarely been pleasant. Most of them had been short and one sided with Fiona walking out of the room when the subject came up.
The simple truth was that men of any temperament were hard to find back home in Pennsylvania since the war ended. Abigail had long been grateful for Frank's asthmatic condition. He was unable to fight alongside so many of his countrymen for the ideals he also held to be sacred. Many of those men had not returned while those who did were often shattered in body or spirit.
Truth be told, Frank's decision to leave their home town and brave the harsh realities of life in the West stemmed directly from his need to prove his abilities to himself. Abigail already loved him dearly and there was nothing he needed to prove to her. They had only been married a few years and there were no children for them yet. Frank insisted that this was the perfect time for them to move.
Abigail was opposed to the idea of moving, especially to a wild Western town, but wanted to make her Frank happy so she agreed. Kansas City turned out to be much different than Pittsburgh and she was still getting used to the differences. It was her fervent prayer they could build a home together now, away from reminders of unhappier times they had faced during the war.
And of course she prayed daily for Fiona to meet a Godly man. Certainly not like the cad Trevor Booker had proven himself to be. Abby patted Fiona's brow with her kerchief and smoothed her wispy dark black hair.
Although Fiona and Abigail were both twenty-three years old, Abby often felt herself be the parent. Certainly since moving to Missouri, with all the unscrupulous conniving hustlers that abounded in the area after the war. It was just bad fortune that Fiona's pretty head was turned by Trevor Booker, a sweet talking devil with a pocket full of money earned at tricky card play. Card playing in itself was considered to lack righteousness, but to be a cheater to boot was downright scandalous.
“The
Good Lord in his wisdom has intervened for you,” Abby finished. Seeing the storm clouds gather in her friend's eyes, she felt uncertain but waited to see what would come next.
“But why?” Fiona wailed, “What if I didn't want Him to? Trevor was certainly not perfect, but I’m ready for marriage and my own home. I tire of boarding at Mrs. Taylor's. Though I always said only passion and love would make me happy, even a marriage of friendship and compatibility would do. What you and Frank have would be acceptable for me at this point!” Fiona stopped in the middle of her tantrum, seeing the hurt her unthinking words had caused. “Oh, Abby. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
Abigail tried to wave it off, but stiffened up and rose to her feet. “I know what everyone said about us. The sickly boy and the plain girl,” she retorted, memories of painful taunts rushing in. “Only together because no one else would have us.”
Fiona hung her head in shame as her friend spoke of the things that they had rarely talked about together. They were best friends, but some topics were best not discussed even among best friends.
“I will tell you that our passion for one another is very real and very precious to me.” Abigail blushed, her pale skin was glowing becomingly. “In Frank's eyes, I am lovely and in mine he is strong. If we have that foundation, friendship, and passion, to build our lives on, then we are blessed beyond what anyone deserves,” she finished.
“I’m very happy to hear that you and Frank are truly in love. I could see it, but I guess I just never considered it. I have been focused on myself. And Trevor. I suppose my focus will have to shift now that Trevor has made alternative plans.” Fiona seemed genuinely contrite.
Abigail nodded and began refolding the delicate garments Fiona had strewn about the small room. Holding a silken lilac hued dress in front of her, she paused. “Where in the world did the money to buy all this finery come from, Fiona Leigh Dearing?” Abby demanded, glad to leave talk of personal matters behind for the moment. “It would take months and months of sewing for Mrs. Taylor's shop to afford all these gorgeous garments.”
Fiona’s chin jutted out in defense before she began to speak. “These clothes are all mine and I bought all of them properly with my own money,” Fiona began defiantly.
Abby looked confused. Then her brow knitted together in question. “What have you done, Fiona?”
At her friend’s accusations, Fiona burst out in laughter. “At least it became my money after I removed it from Trevor's room at the hotel. Before you sermonize me on right and wrong Abigail Witherspoon, may I remind you that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He owed me something for the embarrassment he has caused me. I thought that lilac would complement your complexion beautifully. What do you think?”
Chapter Two
The girls enjoyed looking at the magnificent frocks Fiona had bought with the money she took from Trevor Booker. They held each one up and imagined how each would look wearing it. Abby dreamed of making her husband proud as she wore a stunning gown to the next newspaper event. Fiona was certain she could turn the heads of the few single men that lived in Kansas City.
Hearing a knock just then, Abby said over her shoulder as she went to see who it was, “I say if that's not Sheriff Cummings here to take you away for theft I want the lilac and the maroon dress, too, for my continued silence. Maybe Trevor Booker will think twice before he crosses another lady in this town.” She laughed out loud as she took the final steps to the door.
When she opened the door to reveal Sheriff Cummings the smile on her face faded and she heard Fiona cough in alarm behind her. She looked back at Fiona in alarm. She turned back to the man at her door and opened her mouth to speak when the sheriff looked just beyond her into the room at Fiona. He took his hat off and spoke before Abby had a chance to.
“Mrs. Witherspoon. Well, I’m glad that Miss Dearing is here,” he stated, staring down at his boots. “May I come in, Abigail? Let’s all sit down please,” he entered the house before he was given permission and motioned with one gangly arm towards the sofa.
“What’s wrong? What is it?” Abby demanded, seeing the concern on Sheriff Luke Cummings normally placid face. Fiona quickly stepped to her side, placing a protective arm around her. “Tell me now, I won't sit down. Tell me.”
“There’s been an accident, Abigail. It's with true sorrow I inform you that Frank has been killed,”
Abigail nodded her head slowly trying to absorb the news she had just received. Her eyes were dry as she still hadn’t taken it all in yet. Fiona had giant tears running down her cheeks.
“What happened, Sheriff?” Fiona asked. She felt like she needed to take charge to help her friend out at this time.
“You know he was writing the story about the new lambs out at Ezra Macklin’s ranch? Well, he asked me to go with him out to take a look at them since I mentioned that I’d like to see them, too.” Abby nodded her head absently at the vague remembrance that Frank had been going to the Macklin ranch that day.
The sheriff continued as he looked at the floor. “One of the lambs got out of the pen and was headed for the fence. Inside the fence was the bull and Frank was worried that the lamb would be in danger. He ran after it. His foot twisted in a hole due to the soft ground and he fell hard. He hit his head on a rock.”
Abby wasn’t sure how such a tragedy could occur on a seemingly fine spring day. All had been well that very morning. She had prepared bacon and biscuits, Frank's favorite breakfast, and kissed him soundly before he set off with Sheriff Cummings. Their happy life together was now over. It was more than she could comprehend. Hit his head? Impossible.
“Abigail, listen to me,” she heard from far away, “it was quick and painless for Frank. I believe he was in Glory before his eyes even closed.” The sheriff scrubbed his face. “He was a fine, God fearing man, Abigail, and I'm right sorry. He was a true friend and I've rarely seen his like.”
Abby managed to grasp how difficult this was for Luke Cummings. She took his hand to show him her gratitude for everything that she couldn’t put into words at the time. The enormity of her loss began to press in on her.
Abigail's mother passed on when she was two, her older brother George died in the war, and her father was remarried with a new family. Frank was the one constant in her whole life, her very best friend, her closest ally. She felt her foundation crumble away beneath her.
Abigail woke to find herself stretched out on the blue damask couch that had been the first purchase she and Frank had made after they were married. She wasn’t sure how she had come to be here. The sheriff and Fiona were hovering over her looking worried.
Then she remembered. Her Frank was dead. And she started to sob.
Fiona scooted in and gathered her up in her arms and hugged her close. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I’m so sorry. We’ll figure it all out. I promise,” said Fiona quietly and reverently into Abby’s ear.
Eventually, Sheriff Cummings left with a promise to check on Abby the next day. He was to let Frank’s boss at the paper know what had happened and that was a load off of Abigail’s mind to not have to handle that detail.
Fiona stayed the night with Abigail so she didn’t have to be alone at this time. Abby was thankful to have such a good friend to help her through the difficulties she faced in dealing with Frank’s untimely death.
As the next days turned to weeks and months, Abby depended on Fiona for many things as she tried to transition to being a single woman again. She trusted God to show her the way and thanked Him for giving her such a loyal and helpful friend.
Her mourning period was a difficult one. She struggled to accept what she knew couldn’t be changed. She didn’t question God’s wisdom, but she did admit to not understanding. She tried to adjust, but it was an arduous process that Abby knew she could not handle alone.
Chapter Three
In all the years Fiona had known Abigail she had never seen Abby succumb to such hopelessness and despair. This despair was very deep an
d damaging. She was trying to find her way through her grief, but progress was slow.
Abby had always found fun in life, like putting toads in the bonnets of the girls at school who teased her for her looks, or inventing silly rhyming games with Frank when he couldn't run with the other boys. In the months since Frank's passing her fun loving side had gone away. Abby mourned not having a child with Frank and that she had allowed him to put it off because of his illness. He was worried that the child would inherit his asthma or that he wouldn’t have the stamina to be an active father.
Fiona saw how thin and wan Abigail had become and decided it was up to her to provide a distraction and then a cure. After seeing a marriage catalog in Mrs. Taylor's shop one day a month prior, she impulsively sent off a letter to the fellow with the best advert. A response had arrived in the post.
Hurrying up and down the muddy streets of Kansas City she arrived at the small home she now shared with Abby, anxious to share her first letter from Mr. Graham Barrett. Hopefully this exciting news would ignite a spark of interest in her dear friend. Laying the letter open on the kitchen table, she wasted no time in luring Abby from her bedroom where she spent so much time isolated from the world and reading her Bible.