A Troubled Friendship (Mail-Order Brides 7)

by Annie Boone

  Abby wanted to tell them she was a good person, that she would never hurt their son but remained silent, aware she had already done so. Fiona, on the other hand, was only concerned with getting through dinner in hopes of being able to steal some time alone with Graham.

  The little brother proved to be a delight. He was relaxed and oblivious to the turmoil swirling around him. Luke Barrett was just as handsome as his father and brother, only at twelve he didn't seem aware of his good looks yet. He was always looking for fun, it seemed.

  Only an hour after they met he tried to slide a grasshopper down the back of Abby's dress. She squealed in terror and delight. He pulled Fiona’s hair and she gave him a stern look that stopped him from teasing her again.

  Luke was clearly the apple of his parent's eye and Abby wondered if the obvious favoritism bothered Graham. He had never written of it in his letters, yet she resolved to speak of it with him. She wanted very much to understand the family dynamic for it would be important if they did end up together. She crossed her fingers at the thought of the potential of marriage into the Barrett family.

  Monday dawned with a glorious sunrise and the cook, Mama Brioche, made Abby the best coffee she had ever tasted. “It is the beans, they are special. Then I add just a hint of chocolate, and more than that I cannot tell, it is my secret. One day, I will tell you. After you have my grandbabies. It may take much practice to get them, but many there will be,” the little French woman exclaimed, dramatically miming rocking a baby.

  Abby blushed deeply, but then she burst out laughing. She wasn’t used to discussing such intimate matters with strangers, or anyone for that matter. Seeing the humor in this wonderful, feisty, woman made her feel more comfortable than she expected.

  The conversation caused Abby to turn pensive, thinking on all the times she had prayed for a child with Frank. She mentioned this to Mama Brioche, who clucked, and pointed at the sky. “It was not time, it is very simple, indeed. When it is the right time, you will have children. Just have faith, it is hard I know. Madam Tallulah tried for a baby for years after Graham was born. Now Luke is spoiled but it is not problem yet. I pray that he remains a good boy.”

  Abby took these words to heart, heeding the wise counsel from her elder, and picturing little boys and girls running around. Hickory haired cuties with sapphire eyes. Just the thought made her want to find Graham. She went to the grand library first, meaning to borrow a book while there, and trying to reconcile the Graham she had constructed in her head with the Graham of the present.

  Fiona followed Abby into the library, meaning to have the talk they'd been too exhausted to have last night in their shared room. “This place is fantastic!” she gasped. The thick green, and cream striped rugs placed strategically on the floors around the room were lush and decadent. The chocolate leather armchairs looked like they would swallow you up, and the walls were covered in tapestries. There were colorful scenes depicting King Arthur's Camelot. Castles and dragons, the sword called Excalibur locked in the stone, and the round table with the noble knights. Fiona was fascinated by the room and all is had to offer.

  Just then a loud bang startled her. She whipped around quickly to see Abby leaning down to pick up the book she'd dropped. That had been the noise that had startled her.

  “I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Abigail said at the look on Fiona’s face. “I've wanted to read Pilgrim's Progress for the longest time. There are more books here than I've ever seen before and I climbed the ladder in pursuit of it. Look at the tapestries,” she pointed, walking over for a closer look. “I can remember when I first started disliking Sir Lancelot,” she traced the threads with her finger.

  “Now why would you say that?” Fiona exclaimed, taking Abigail's hand. “He was quite a hero.”

  “Maybe so, but maybe not,” Abby allowed. “But he broke his vow of service as a knight. He pursued Lady Guinevere and betrayed his King, they both did. I guess neither of them was blameless.”

  “I would never do that,” Fiona breathed indignantly. “We do need to talk, though. You know that I love you. It is just that certain factors seem to point to myself and Graham making the better match.”

  Abby looked sadly at Fiona. “You are my best friend and I would not stand in the way if that was what you both wanted. But I feel it very wrong of you to take such an interest now when you see he is wealthy and attractive. When he was only ink on paper he wasn't as appealing, now was he? You weren’t interested in learning a thing about him after his second letter.”

  Fiona snorted, “If it wasn't for me you'd never have met him in the first place. I was trying to do my duty as your friend, and lift you out of your misery. Now you refuse to see the hand in front of your face. You know he is right for me, not you.”

  At that moment they heard a small voice saying, “Misses? Can I help you? Is everything alright? Please don't argue so, it isn't healthy.”

  The cutest little boy Abby had ever seen was standing in the hallway, holding a toy horse. “What is your name, young sir?” she said, bending over to speak to him.

  “I am Philippe. I belong to Mama Brioche. She is my grandmamma,” he answered proudly. “I heard you arguing, but it’s not nice to talk that way.”

  He looked back and forth between Abby and Fiona until he was sure his point was made. With his soft brown curls and doe eyes he was adorable, and surely not over five or six years of age.

  “Of course you are right,” Abby stated, feeling chastened by this adorable little fellow. “We will not argue anymore. The person in question will surely choose on his own. Don't you agree, Fiona?”

  “Yes, I see you are right, Abigail, we will let the matter rest. And thank you, Philippe, for being the voice of reason. Would you like a sweet? I have some butterscotch in my purse.”

  “Oui, oui, madame. I do like sweets. My grandmamma said I have common sense. She is very smart.” And then Philippe held out his hand to the giggling girls for his butterscotch sweet.

  Abigail and Fiona enjoyed the brief interlude with Philippe and remembered their promise to not argue. They kept the promise that night, though there was a coolness that had developed between them.

  Chapter Eight

  That night at dinner the whole family sat at the large dining table for the first time since Abby and Fiona arrived. Fearing a frosty reception, Abigail brought her shawl. At the least she could hide her face if her temper got the better of her.

  Daniel Barrett sat at the head of the massive mahogany table while Tallulah sat opposite him. Graham made his only appearance of the day, claiming business had kept him occupied, settling in beside Fiona. Abigail and Fiona sat across from each other, while Edgar Stockton, the estate manager, sat beside Abigail.

  “So this is the lovely Rosalie Collins. I have heard so much about you, my dear. Every day for months, in fact. ‘Rosalie likes apple tarts, plant more apple trees’. Or ‘Rosalie enjoys reading, buy more books.’” The stocky older man smiled as he saw Graham squirm in embarrassment. And Abby smiled as Fiona scowled since Mr. Stockton had mentioned the things that she herself had written to Graham.

  “Oh, and lest I forget,” he continued, “there is that part where I had to bring in two new wardrobes to accommodate the elaborate dresses that Rosalie loves. Good Lord forbid that there wasn’t enough room for Rosalie’s female requirements.”

  Now Fiona smiled as Abby frowned a bit since it was clear that Graham had heard one of the few contributions Fiona had made to the letter writing.

  Graham noticed the looks from each woman but didn't speak about them. He didn’t want to draw attention to their disagreement. He did take note of which one reacted to each part of Edgar’s good-natured teasing. He felt he had a little more insight than he had previously.

  “So, Edgar, will we be ready for the Cowboy Round Up? It’s coming up quickly,” Graham changed the subject not so adeptly.

  “Yes, we will. I’m quite looking forward to it, too,” Edgar replied.

&
nbsp; “I believe it will be a bigger festival than last year’s event. The cowboys will show off calf roping skills, race horses, and ride bucking broncs. It should be a good time for all,” continued Graham.

  “Oh yes. There will even be wooden dance floors, with bands playing. It does promise to be an enjoyable occasion. I’m looking forward to it,” said Edgar.

  Abigail noticed right away how properly Graham spoke, and the attention he gave to his parents. So that is the cause of his flip-flops, she reasoned. He is a grown man at five and twenty, yet still trying to please his parents. I must unearth the reason, so we can move on from this. She knew she could understand his plight since she remembered how trying to live up to others notions of a real man had been so damaging to Frank.

  After dinner, Graham corralled the ladies, well away from prying ears. “Tomorrow you and I will ride to the river,” he spoke to Fiona, “and we will get to know each other better. The day after that Abigail will accompany me. This is the fairest way to settle this in my estimation. I must understand which one of you is really Rosalie Collins. Now if you will excuse me I still have work to do.”

  The women also retired for the night, each thinking on the future and the many possibilities ahead. They didn’t speak to each other and the atmosphere between them was changed.

  ***

  “So tell me, Graham,” Fiona asked, as they rode across the meadows, “what were you doing in Cheyenne, wearing the sheriff star if you aren't a sheriff? If I recall, you even hauled a man off to jail.”

  “Well, I've spent my whole life admiring lawmen,” he explained, letting his horse slow to a trot, so they were side by side. “Men like Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson, men who take care of others. My father wanted me to become an attorney like him, but I feel drawn to help people in a different way. My friend, Rocky Grant, asked me to help out in Cheyenne for a few days. I agreed readily. I figured it would help me see if I'm suited for it. As it turns out, I enjoyed the work and I’m good at it. I plan on running for Sheriff in Crystal Lake. The ranch is run by good people I trust, the two vaqueros who came back with us the other day have been working here since I was a kid, the Mendez brothers. They are going to be the supervisors starting next summer, and they'll begin work on their houses then too. Of course I will still live here, Crystal Lake is only ten minutes away by horse.”

  Fiona shook her head, “That’s quite a bit of information to take in, Graham. I don't think I would want you to be a Sheriff. It doesn't sound very safe.”

  Graham looked at her sideways. He didn’t respond to her opinion about his plans for the future. He weighed his options and decided it wasn’t a fight he needed to have right then.

  Settling her sun bonnet against the gusting wind she added, “What do your parents think of your plans for Singing River?”

  “They don’t approve, but I have dealt with their disapproval most of my life and it’s nothing new. What of yourself, what do you see in your future, Fiona?” he asked, as they topped a rise. “What are your interests?”

  “I worked as a seamstress for a few months in Kansas City, and I loved it. The part I enjoy the most is creating new patterns for dresses. Designing is my passion. Then again I very much want to marry and start a family. Unlike Abigail I would make every effort to be available for my husband. In every way,” she finished, with a quick look at his face, to see if her words had any effect.

  Graham’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean by that? I thought Abigail and her late husband enjoyed a happy marriage, certainly she speaks of him with respect.”

  Fiona thought furiously, and decided to mix truth with exaggeration. She was turning into someone she didn’t recognize but she was feeling desperate. “They had a marriage of convenience, not really love. No one would marry Abby because of her looks. Frank felt indebted to her for her kindness to him when they were children. He was always sickly and Abby made sure to include him in her games. So they agreed to marry.”

  Graham looked away. It seemed like he didn’t want to hear these details, but Fiona missed the cue and continued.

  She shook her head sadly. “After they were wed, Abby lost all respect for him. He often tried dangerous pursuits to impress her and win back her esteem. He never did succeed.”

  Graham pointed to the river now visible, water curling over large boulders in the middle, and throwing up spray, little prisms of color reflecting over the surface. “May I present Crow Creek, the source of life for the Singing River Ranch and one of my favorite places to come to when I need to think.”

  Fiona looked over at the river and seemed unimpressed by it’s beauty. The fact that it was the water source for the ranch and for the town seemed lost on her.

  Graham walked over to help Fiona down from the docile black mare she rode and walked her to the bank of the river. “The water doesn’t rush at this time of year, but come spring it’s force will be mighty and powerful.”

  “Yes, I imagine it will,” Fiona replied. She stepped away to pluck late blooming wildflowers to make a bouquet. “We can take these back to your mother. She will appreciate them, surely.”

  “Do you recall when I wrote to you of James, my older brother?” asked Graham as he came to stand beside her as she arranged the flowers in the basket she had brought along.

  Fiona felt trapped. She hadn't read all the letters as she intended, and Abby had never mentioned an older brother. Nobody mentioned him at dinner and she certainly didn’t meet another family member. “Why don't you tell me again,” she said softly, hoping to distract him from her ignorance. “I want to learn everything about your family, Graham. It is always good to talk about family!” she gushed.

  “Well,” he continued, not exactly sure why she seemed so bright and chipper to learn about his brother’s death but he let it go. “James challenged me to race him across the river when he was twelve and I was ten. He was always pushing himself, trying to outdo everyone. He always felt he had to prove that he was strong even though he really wasn’t. I didn't realize at the time how it hurt him for me to be bigger when he was the eldest. Still, he was my best friend. When he died of pneumonia, I was crushed.”

  Fiona gasped. He died! she thought. Oh gracious. I should have read those letters! “I’m sure it was a most difficult time, Graham. How did you cope?” Maybe he won’t notice that this was new information to me, she continued her thoughts.

  “We all lost our way for a while,” he continued. “Eventually, my whole focus shifted to making my parents happy. It has taken this long for me to start living my own life, and escape the guilt. That is why I advertised for a bride. I want a woman who would come to know the real me, not just my sad history. When Abby told me about her husband's illness and his quest to prove himself I felt for the first time someone would understand my childhood and also be able to look past it. So,” he finished, as he began unpacking a picnic lunch from his saddlebags, “it saddens me to think Abigail is not the woman I believed her to be. The woman I expected Rosalie to be.”

  Fiona rushed over to help him, feeling a twinge of guilt as she shook out a blanket for them to sit on. “Let us talk of brighter things,” she said cheerfully. “It is a most beautiful day, we’re sitting on the banks of a lovely river, and we have this wonderful food Mama Brioche prepared for us. Please tell me the story of little Philippe, he is the smartest child I have ever met. Where is his mother?”

  “His mother is in Heaven. She passed away giving birth to the little guy. And her husband, Philippe's father, moved back to France. He didn’t feel he could raise the boy alone so he left him with Mama Brioche.”

  “She seems like a fabulous lady. And such a cook! You are lucky to have her,” said Fiona.

  “Oh, she is more than wonderful. She helped me through some very difficult years. I believe young Philippe is already smarter at the age of five than I was at fifteen. Mama has done a very good job with him so far. He is a joy to be around,” continued Graham.

  “I can certainly see that he is a
remarkable child.”

  “Ah, here is the fried chicken, and Mama's famous bichon au citron. Those are pastries like turnovers, only filled with cream instead of fruit. I stole so many of these as a child Mama had to start locking the pantry. My Father spanked me at least thrice a year for trying to sneak her key.”

  Fiona laughed as she imagined the child he was. “Abigail and I had good childhoods. My mother was often sick, and Abby's stepmother didn't care for her much after she had children of her own. But we always had each other, and Abby had Frank. We were lucky in that sense, life would've been so lonely without Abby.” Fiona turned her face toward the water so he wouldn't see her sudden tears.