At that moment, a muffled thud sounded above their heads followed by a sharp cry of pain.
“That’s Mary Ella.” Abigail lifted her face toward the ceiling while her heart lurched against her ribs. “She’s hurt.”
“I’m going.” With a whish of her skirts, Mrs. Marshall hurried from the room.
“Lord, be with Mary Ella.” Abigail turned toward the sitting room and the stairway that led upstairs. Rachel insisted that she sleep on the ground floor, so she hadn’t been upstairs since before their parents died and had no idea what she might find. She could easily run into furniture or fall over something unexpected in this unfamiliar part of the house.
Her heart pounded as she gripped the banister. Mrs. Marshall’s heavy tread stomped up the stairs ahead of her. She should stay where she was and wait, but she couldn’t. Mary Ella could be seriously hurt. She’d waited all day for word from Seth. She was tired of waiting. She had to know if Mary Ella needed her. Surely she could be of some help even if she couldn’t see. She held the banister close and ran up the stairs. At the top, she stopped, uncertain what to do next. Her sense of direction became a foggy whirl of choices in a dark void. Here she had nothing to hold to except the wall. She needed to cross the hall, but to walk into new surroundings with no guide was frightening. She clung to the knob at the top of the bannister.
Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. She lifted her chin and took a step forward, still holding the knob. She searched her memory. Down the hall and to her right should be a door. On the left were two more doors. Mary Ella had to be in one of the rooms. But which one? Silence greeted her for several long moments.
“What have you gone and done? Pulled the wardrobe over on yourself?” Mrs. Marshall scolded the little girl, and with trembling limbs, Abigail moved to the left across the hall. Her fingers slid from the knob, and she became lost in a void without a glimmer of guidance. Except the voices. She held her hands out, feeling for something to touch. Something to tell her she was going the right way.
Mary Ella cried out. “Oh, it hurts so much.”
Abigail focused on her voice, one hand held out while the other wiped tears from her eyes.
Thumping and scraping sounds kept her moving forward until her hand touched the wall, and she stopped. Her fingers brushed wallpaper, giving her no idea where she stood in the long hallway. Should she move to the right or to the left?
“There now, that wardrobe wasn’t so heavy, was it?” Mrs. Marshall’s voice soothed. “Let’s take a look and see what you’ve done to your arm.”
Abigail moved toward the sound and her fingers hit solid wood. Thank you, Lord. She grabbed the doorframe and held on for a moment while she blotted moisture from her face. Mary Ella didn’t need to see her crying. Finally she stepped through the doorway, still as disoriented as before.
“Looks like those cookies will have to wait until another time for sure. I believe you’ll be paying a visit to Dr. Myers this afternoon instead.” Mrs. Marshall still spoke in a soothing voice. “He’ll fix you up good as new.”
“Miss Abigail, I fell.” Mary Ella’s pitiful cry tore at Abigail’s heart.
She released the doorframe and guided only by Mary Ella’s voice, hurried into the room. Mrs. Marshall touched her shoulder. “She’s right here, honey.”
With Mrs. Marshall’s guidance, Abigail knelt beside the little girl, opening her arms and her heart. As Mary Ella leaned into her embrace, she broke into sobs. “I’m so sorry, Miss Abigail.”
Abigail held her, gently rocking her in her arms. “Hush, you’re all right. You’re a bright, little girl who wants to know everything. I know you’ve learned your lesson and won’t wander off by yourself anymore.”
Mary Ella’s head shook against Abigail’s side. Feeling more helpless than she had ever felt before, Abigail still recognized the rush of love that filled her heart for the child in her arms. She could’ve been hurt so much more than only her arm. Fear for Mary Ella and what might’ve happened kept Abigail’s heart pounding out of control. She couldn’t allow such a love to grow or even remain. She wasn’t worthy of such a sweet little girl.
“Can you stay here with her while I run next door?” Mrs. Marshall pressed a handkerchief into Abigail’s hand. “I’ll see if Joseph can drive us to the doctor’s.”
“Yes, we’ll be fine. Go on.” Abigail assured Mrs. Marshall, but while she listened to the fading footsteps of her housekeeper, she wondered. Would she ever be fine again? She’d been so naïve to think she could hold a man’s love. To think she could one day be a mother. Rachel was right. She had no business dreaming impossible dreams. She would only hurt others if she tried.
She held Mary Ella close and allowed the tears to run down her cheeks while grief for all she’d just lost caused her heart to shrivel and die.
Chapter 9
Abigail waited for what seemed an eternity, holding a whimpering Mary Ella, while consoling her as best she could. If she ignored the ache in her own heart, maybe it would go away. After what seemed an eternity, footsteps crossed the hall and Mrs. Marshall returned with help.
Joseph Raines, the teenage boy next door lifted Mary Ella from Abigail’s embrace, leaving her cold and empty.
Mrs. Marshall helped Abigail stand. “Here, take my arm, darling. I suppose you’ll want to go to the doctor’s with us.”
Mary Ella’s voice drifting back, calling for Abigail, and Mrs. Marshall chuckled. “As if Mary Ella would let you stay away.”
The older woman helped Abigail down the stairs and out to the Raines’ family buggy. “I had Joseph’s younger brother take word to the plant already. He ran down to the store to use the telephone. Said that’d be a whole lot faster. Mr. Warren needs to know what’s happened.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Here we are.” Mrs. Marshall placed Abigail’s hand on the buggy. “That’s it, just climb aboard. Mary Ella’s waitin’ for you there in the middle of the back seat. I’ll sit up front with Joseph.”
Abigail held Mary Ella with the carriage robe pulled tight around her to keep her warm. She no longer whimpered, but snuggled close as if she took comfort in Abigail’s presence. Abigail longed to crawl into bed and sleep away the whole terrible experience. If Mary Ella hadn’t called for her as Joseph carried her out, she might have done just that. Seth might never speak to her again. He certainly would not hold her in his arms and share kisses. She had failed him and Mary Ella both.
Again Joseph carried the little girl as they entered the doctor’s clinic. Abigail and Mrs. Marshall followed. Abigail’s heart pounded. What was she doing here? She couldn’t help. With Mary Ella being taken care of by those who could see, her arms were as empty as her heart. She stretched her hand out, feeling for a chair. Someplace where she could get out of the way. Her hand brushed the rough wool of Mrs. Marshall’s coat. “Please, I just want to sit down.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Marshall offered her arm and in two short steps Abigail sank to a chair that had been there all along. So close, yet the chair might as well have not existed under the cover of darkness. Her breath came in quick gasps, yet she heard another set of footsteps.
“What have we got here?” The nurse who had worked with Dr. Myers for years talked to Mary Ella, soothing her with her calm voice. “We’ll find out what’s making your arm hurt in just a few minutes and have you all fixed up. Dr. Myers is really good with little girls and hurt arms.”
The tone of her voice changed when she said, “If you’ll carry her back here to an examining room, the doctor will take a look.”
Abigail heard their footsteps grow softer. This time Mary Ella didn’t call for her, and her heart broke a little more. But isn’t that the way it should be? Although she would never stop loving this child, she had no claim on her. With her hands clasped in her lap, she leaned back and willed her breathing to become even and the tears to retreat.
Joseph returned and sat down on the other side of Mrs. Marshall. Neither spoke, and Abig
ail welcomed the silence. After several minutes, the outer door burst open and someone rushed through. Abigail jerked to attention as the spicy scent of Seth’s aftershave drifted past.
The nurse intercepted him with a smile in her voice. “Are you Mr. Warren?”
“Yes, my daughter, Mary Ella. Is she here?” He sounded frantic. “I got word she’s been in an accident.”
“Come with me, Mr. Warren.” Their footsteps led toward the back of the clinic. “Mary Ella is quite the charmer. She’s in with the doctor now.”
Abigail heard a door open and close. Several minutes passed before the nurse returned. Mrs. Marshall stood. “Nurse, can you tell us how the child is?”
“Yes, of course. Dr. Myers says her arm has a simple fracture, more of a crack really. He won’t even have to set it. She’ll be getting a cast to hold it in place. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“Thank you.”
As Mrs. Marshall sat back down, Abigail touched her arm. “I want to go home.”
She was sure Seth hadn’t spared a glance her way. He’d been so frightened for his daughter, he probably hadn’t even seen her sitting here. That was just as well. He’d only blame her for Mary Ella’s injury, as well he should. She blamed herself. She stood and turned toward Mrs. Marshall to repeat her request. If she didn’t get away from here, the weight of her guilt would crush her heart. “I’d very much like to go home now.”
“You’re not waiting to see how the little one is?”
“She’s with her father. She doesn’t need us. You heard the nurse. She’ll be fine.” She stood and walked toward the door. Her hand closed around the knob as if she could see it. Where had her sense of direction been when she needed it most? Hysterical laughter threatened to rise in her throat, but she fought it back and pulled the door open.
Mrs. Marshall caught up with her on the street outside and took her arm. Together they walked to the buggy with Joseph following.
~*~
Abigail refused to give in to her weakness by going to bed, although she had to fight the temptation. Instead, she sat in the sitting room, rocking and leaning her head back, letting frustration and helplessness flood her soul.
Mrs. Marshall had gone to her home already, and Abigail assumed Rachel would soon return from work. She’d waited for word all morning from the plant. Now she didn’t care. Seth deserved the job as engineer, and she hoped he got it, but whether he did or not no longer affected her. He’d been so worried an accident would take his daughter, as one had taken his wife. An accident had occurred, and Mary Ella had been hurt.
Not on the street as Seth feared, but in Abigail’s home, under her watchful eye.
She made a sound of disgust. Her eyes were not and would never again be watchful, which is why the accident happened. Mary Ella’s arm was broken, and Abigail was to blame.
When the doorbell rang, Abigail thought about ignoring it. When it rang a second and third time, she decided the lock had been accidentally thrown, and Rachel had forgotten her key.
She turned the knob and opened the door with little effort.
“Abigail, may I come in?”
“Seth?” The word slipped out in a whisper, as her heart pounded. She scurried back to her chair.
“Abigail?” Seth closed the door and knelt beside her.
Why had she opened the door? She turned her face away, willing the ever-present tears to stop.
“I came by to thank you for taking such good care of Mary Ella.”
“You don’t have to be polite, Mr. Warren.” Her voice held ice from the coldness of her broken heart. “Mary Ella wouldn’t have been hurt if she hadn’t been here. I know it’s my fault. I don’t blame you for being angry with me.”
“Abigail, I’m not angry. Mary Ella told me what she did. How could it be your fault that she slipped away to hide from you?”
“Because I can’t see.” She spoke loud enough to emphasize the truth. A sound halfway between laugh and sob tore from her throat. “She didn’t need to run off to hide from me. All she had to do is stay quiet. I’m not fit to be around children. Please, go home, and don’t let her come back here.”
Seth stood as the front door opened and Rachel came in. “Hello, Mr. Warren.” Her voice sounded cheerful. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to congratulate you on your new position at Kingson Steel.”
“Yes, congratulations, Mr. Warren. I’m glad you got the job.” Abigail spoke around the pain in her heart. “Rachel, Mary Ella broke her arm today while she was here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine.” Seth sounded annoyed. “What’s this about my new position? How did you know before I even had a chance to mention it?”
As Rachel started to speak, he stopped her. “No, don’t tell me. How could I have been so stupid? Rachel Stevens, right? I saw your signature on some of the paperwork Mr. Hanson gave me. I thought it was unusual for a woman to sign personnel papers, and in my stupidity I didn’t connect the signature with you. You own the plant, don’t you? I remember hearing when I first hired on that it’s owned by two sisters. An unusual business for women, to say the least.”
When neither woman spoke, he asked again. “Am I right? Is it your company?”
“Yes.” Rachel’s voice held little warmth now. “Our grandfather started King Steel long before we were born. Our father became his partner and inherited the company after his death. He changed the name to Kingson Steel because Grandfather always treated him as the son he never had. Abigail and I have grown up in the company. We both know the business inside and out. I work hands on, but Abigail has an equal partnership with me. We may be women, Mr. Warren, but we are quite capable of owning our own business.”
“I meant no offense.” Seth sounded tired. He turned toward Abigail, his voice laced with sarcasm. “I see I must thank you again. Not only have you been taking good care of my daughter, but you’ve given me a chance to work at my chosen profession. I truly appreciate your help. Both of you.”
In the silence, Abigail heard Seth walk to the door and open it. Rachel spoke. “Mr. Warren, just for the record, friendship had nothing to do with your selection. After much deliberation, we hired the man we believed would be best for the job.”
“I appreciate that, and I plan to give my best to your company. Good day, Miss Stevens.” He paused before repeating in a clipped tone of voice, “Miss Stevens.”
The sharp click of the closing door echoed through the silent room. Although she could find no fault with his words, Abigail heard bitterness and anger in his voice and found no fault there either.
“We hired him because he was best for the job.” Rachel sat on the sofa across from Abigail. “If you’ve got a lick of sense, you’ll stop feeling sorry for yourself and go after him.”
How ironic. For months, Abigail had longed for Rachel’s approval, and now she had it. Too late.
~*~
Seth did as Abigail had asked. He kept Mary Ella away. An entire week passed without the sound of their voices. Without Mary Ella’s laughter and childish prattle. Without Seth’s touch or his stolen kisses. She missed them both more than she could believe. Her daily routine, caring for the plants in her greenhouse, kept her functioning and she hoped convinced Mrs. Marshall she would be all right. Christmas was less than two weeks away, and she’d had several orders for her poinsettias, so her life fell back into the old rut of hiding among her flowers.
One morning she took the Poinsettias from the dark room to the table near the south window. Her fingers brushed lightly over the leaves until she felt little flowers in the center of the bracts. The poinsettias had turned red. They no longer needed to hide in the dark each night. Her fingers stilled on the one under her hand, as her heart opened to its lesson.
By subjecting the poinsettias to a combination of light and darkness, they had bloomed into beautiful red plants ready to go out and bring happiness to many people. She lived in the darkness, but Mary Ella had brought light i
nto her life. Seth had been an even brighter light by treating her as an equal and showing her that he could see beyond her blindness to the woman beneath. When his pride had been hurt, he’d lashed out at her as if she were an ordinary woman.
Abigail laughed for the first time since Mary Ella’s accident. Seth had looked beyond her handicap and found her attractive. The fun they’d shared, the shopping trip, sitting in church together, and especially the unexpected kisses when they were alone all proved that he cared for her as much as she cared for him. Even his anger in learning she and Rachel owned the plant proved his acceptance. He saw her as blind at first, but he now saw her as a woman.
Abigail stroked the soft petal. She’d been in the dark long enough. She didn’t need to hide anymore. Just as the poinsettias would go out and give joy to others, she wanted to do the same. She bowed her head and prayed, asking God to use her in whatever way He wanted. She also prayed for Seth that he would find God’s best for his life, even though she would have no part in it.
Abigail arranged the poinsettias on the table, knowing that she had just committed herself to a life filled with risk. Out from the protective hot house she’d been living in, she would face failure and hurt feelings, possibly even occasional injury. But, by reaching out to others, she expected to find satisfaction that comes from service and obedience to God’s will. As she lifted her face and hands toward heaven in total surrender, sweet peace filled her heart and soul.
~*~
Abigail could scarcely contain her eagerness to enter God’s house on Sunday morning. She and Rachel sat in their usual place, and she concentrated on the service in a way she hadn’t done for years. Only once did she wonder if Seth and Mary Ella were there. If so, they kept their distance.
As the service drew to a close, the minister said, “The ladies of the church have put together several food baskets for the needy in our community. As always we are in need of a few volunteers to deliver the baskets. Please raise your hand if you can help with that.”
Lesson of the Poinsettia Page 7