by Verna Clay
Without delay, he and Luke mounted their horses and headed to town. Luke said, "Pa, do you think she went back to Philadelphia?"
"No, I don't think so. We'll just have to ask around town to see if anyone saw her."
"You don't think she'd just take off on Daisy, do you? You know, ride the trails."
"God, I hope not." Fear in Brant's stomach twisted into a tighter knot.
"Pa?"
The catch in Luke's voice made Brant slow his horse and turn to look at his son.
"Yes, son."
The boy's voice cracked, "I'm so sorry for the way I treated Abby. She's a good ma." He choked back a sob.
"Luke, Abby knew you were hurting and understood. I did too, even though sometimes I was harder on you than I should have been. We've all been through more than anyone should have to endure, but our experiences, as sad as they are, have created a bond between us that will never be broken." His own voice cracked. "And I should have told Abby long ago how much I loved and needed her."
Luke tried to comfort his father. "We'll find her, Pa."
In town, Brant reined his horse in at the front of the hotel. The first person he wanted to talk with was Charlie. The man spent a lot of time outside and maybe he'd seen something. The sound of Charlie's singing carried through the windows of the hotel and Brant stepped into the parlor ignoring hotel guests and walking up to the piano.
Charlie cut the ballad short. Brant said, "Hello Charlie. Can I speak with you a minute?"
"She left on the stagecoach this afternoon headed toward Bingham—said she was visitin' friends. Her horse is at the stable."
Brant nodded. "Thanks, Charlie."
Charlie scratched his chin. "It's almost dark. Why don't ya'll stay with me? My room's small but you jes need to bed down til mornin'. As much as you want to find her, ridin' out at night's not smart. If yer horse goes lame, you'll jes be that much further behind. Luke can stay with me til you return or he can ride back to yer place tomorrow."
"Sounds good. Send him to Mick MacGregor's in the morning. That's where his sister is."
"Sure thing." Charlie closed the piano cover. "She's a keeper, Brant. Jes needs some help through this rough patch."
Brant tried to swallow the lump in his throat and nodded because he couldn't speak.
At first light, he was on the road. All night he'd tried to remember the name of the couple who had been Abby's stagecoach companions from Ft. Worth.
Chapter 18: Revelations
Although Brant wanted to gallop Sugar the distance to Bingham, and the horse would do it for him, she was too old for that kind of exertion.
The long ride, however, gave him plenty of time to think about his life, his children, and his beloved Abby. He should have told her long ago how much he loved and adored her. However, feelings of betraying his first wife had held him back. Only now, did he realize how misguided those feelings were. He'd loved Molly fiercely, just as he loved Abby fiercely. Molly was dead and Abby lived. And he could choose to become one of the walking dead that he encountered so often, or he could choose to live and love again. Abby made him want to live. Could he make her understand that she also had a choice to go on or become one of the walking dead herself?
He entered the outskirts of Bingham just as shops were opening to pedestrians filling the streets. Finding the local stable, he watered and rested Sugar and asked the stable boy, "You wouldn't know of an elderly couple named Winnows or Whipple…something or other? Would you?"
The skinny towhead said, "You mean Willowood?"
"Yes! That's it!"
"Sure. Everyone knows them. Are you in trouble and need a lawyer?"
"Ah, no. But I have important business to discuss with them. Could you direct me to their home?"
The boy appraised him for a few seconds. "They live off Main Street, a block over from the courthouse on First Street. It's a big green house with yellow trim. They're good people. Mr. Willowood helped my pa out once."
"Thanks, son." Brant flipped the boy a coin and he grinned.
After caring for Sugar and then splashing water from the pump to clean up, Brant combed his hair back and trotted his horse in the direction the boy pointed. The house was easy to locate and he tied Sugar's reins to the hitching post. Blowing a breath, he practiced what he wanted to say while following the flagstones to the front porch. Before he reached the door, it was thrown open by the plump woman he remembered from the stagecoach.
"Oh, please come in," she gushed. "Abigail is here. She's such a sweetheart, I had a feeling you'd be coming after her." A male servant hovered nearby and Mrs. Willowood dismissed him kindly.
Brant followed the woman indoors breathing a sigh of relief while Mrs. Willowood continued her running conversation without taking a breath.
"The poor dear showed up exhausted last night and shared everything that's happened. I tried to comfort her because I lost a child myself and a couple of grandchildren. I explained that it takes time and family to heal, but she's so distraught I fear she cried all night. She hasn't come out of her room–"
Brant interrupted, "Will you please take me to her now?"
"Yes, of course. I think you're just what she needs. She told me many times of her love for you."
Brant's heart twisted. "That love is mutual, ma'am."
"I can certainly see that. Come with me."
Mrs. Willowood finally stopped talking while leading him up a winding staircase. At the end of the second story hallway, she placed her hands on her pink cheeks, inhaled a deep breath, and then knocked on a door.
A soft voice said, "Yes?"
"Abigail, its Ann Willowood. May I come in?"
"Yes. Of course," Abby responded weakly.
Mrs. Willowood opened the door. "Dear heart, you have a visitor."
Brant stepped inside the room with his hat in hand. Abby lay back on pillows in a bed that swallowed her up and her eyes widened and big tears pooled when she saw him.
Mrs. Willowood said, "I'll leave you two alone," and closed the door.
Brant watched Abby brush jerkily at her tears.
Placing his hat on a nearby dresser, he slowly approached until he stood at the foot of the bed. Abby kept swiping at tears. Walking to the side of the bed, he sat on it and drank in her lovely face. "Honey, I've got to say some things I should have said long ago." He reached for her small hand and pulled it against his heart. "Do you feel how fast my heart is beating?"
She didn't respond and didn't look at him.
"It only beats like that for you. After Molly died, I didn't think I could love that way again. But I was wrong. I love you, Abby. I should have told you sooner, but I was still coming to terms with my loss. During the cattle drive, I realized how precious you are to me, and I was going to show you in a special way by taking you on a picnic and revealing my heart. But…"
Abby sobbed.
Softly, he said, "Sweetheart, we can get through this together." He paused because his heart was bursting with sadness and love. Unable to hold his emotions inside he swallowed and said through tears. "Abby, forgive me for not being more sensitive to you. I should have taken you away from the house and not expected you to resume daily living until you were stronger." He brought her hand to his lips. "I'm so sorry."
* * *
Abby looked at Brant kissing her hand and something inside her suddenly comprehended his words. No longer was she the mail order bride married for the purpose of raising children, she was the beloved wife and mother. Lifting to her knees, she wrapped her arms around her husband and whispered comforting words. His need for her was as great as her need for him. Moving her mouth to his, she gently kissed him and he laid her across the bed, returning her kisses. Comforting words, watered by tears, sprouted the seeds of recovery for both of them. Finally, with bodies entwined, Abby slept her first peaceful sleep in weeks. When she awoke, shadows slanted across the room and she felt Brant stir beside her. She raised her head to gaze into his eyes. Slowly, he smiled and she s
miled back.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"Starving."
"That's just what I wanted to hear. You need to gain your weight back."
Nuzzling her lips against his throat, she wanted to stay like this for hours longer, but her stomach growled loudly.
Brant sat on the side of the bed. "Abby, I don't want you coming home just yet. I want you to stay here for awhile. You need this time away."
"But Brant–"
He turned and placed his finger over her lips.
"You need this. I'll visit every weekend until it's time for you to come home. Believe me, I want you home, but not at the sacrifice of your physical and emotional wellbeing."
Because she knew he was right, she didn't argue.
The next day, Abby kissed Brant goodbye while Mr. and Mrs. Willowood stood beside her offering comfort.
True to his word, for the next month, he arrived every Saturday morning and she ran to meet him, disregarding the rules of decorum and throwing herself into his arms. Whenever she expressed guilt at not being home to care for Jenny and Luke, he kissed her concerns away.
During his visits, Brant was able to discuss with Mr. Willowood the plight of his neighbors losing their homes in foreclosure. The good man became enraged by practices he said were unethical and, to the delight of those affected, began filing complaints against the bank and responding to the foreclosure notices.
Often, Brant and Abby would sit on the porch swing and mull over the changing times. "You know, Abby, I think I need to try raising some of the new breeds of cattle. The market for Longhorns isn't what it used to be." He entwined his fingers with hers and said matter-of-factly, "Change is difficult, but inescapable."
On the Saturday of Brant's fourth visit, Abby knew she was ready to resume her life. While they lay in bed that night, she said, "I'm ready to go home."
He tightened his arms around her. "Honey, I'll bring the buckboard next week if you're sure. However, I can wait as long as needed."
"I'm sure. But there's something we haven't discussed."
He kissed her forehead. "What's that?"
"Money."
Brant chuckled—a response she hadn't expected.
She rose on her elbow and looked questioningly at him.
He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "Quite frankly, that was the least of my concerns when you left. But you're right; we do need to discuss it. Honestly, it bothers me that I wasn't able to provide for my family from the sale of my cattle. But in my frustration, I neglected to realize something that you pointed out in your letter."
Abby held her breath and waited.
"Like you said, you needed to do what you did. You're a giving person, and when you're denied that opportunity, you're not fulfilled. In my pride, I refused to see that. When I finally did, a light went on. I'm not saying I'm happy that my wife paid off our mortgage when I couldn't, but I'm coming to terms with it because it's about so much more than money."
His understanding words lifted the final veil in Abby's heart and she crushed her mouth over his, kissing him repeatedly.
He murmured his delight and rolled her onto her back. "I don't want to talk about money anymore. I just want to kiss you, love."
Chapter 19: Homecoming
Happiness and nervousness mingled in Abby's heart when Brant pulled the buckboard into Two Rivers. He said, "Abby, I'm going to stop by the church. If Mick and Cora are still there we can pick Luke and Jenny up." He squeezed her knee. "Are you nervous?"
She placed her hand over his. "Yes. I'm excited to be home and nervous at the same time."
A few minutes later, he reined the horses to the front of the church. "Looks like everyone's still here. Wait while I peek inside to see if the service is over."
Abby nodded and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. She watched Brant crack the door and then slip inside. Almost immediately he returned to lift her off the buckboard.
"Service is over. Let's say hello."
Abby placed her hand on his arm and tugged him to a stop. "What if the children think I'm a coward for leaving?"
Brant brushed a wayward strand of her hair back. "Not gonna happen. They've been excited ever since they learned about your homecoming." He reached for her hand, tucked it in the crook of his arm, and started forward again.
Pausing in the doorway, he smiled down at her before pushing the door open and stepping aside for her to enter. Abby held her breath and walked into the sanctuary.
Unexpectedly, voices shouted, "Welcome home, Abby!"
Abby placed her hand over her heart when she saw the hand painted sign hanging above the pulpit.
ABBY, WELCOME HOME! WE MISSED YOU!
Brant laughed and led her down the aisle. Tears sprang to her eyes as neighbor after neighbor approached and welcomed her back—Mina Priestly, Mick and Cora McGregor, Neal and Lita Brandon, Vera Simpson, Kathryn Nantucket, Sadie Thomas, Clyde Jenkins, Jed the blacksmith, Mr. and Mrs. Snodgrass, and many more. Even Lola Pitts and her parents were there.
Pastor Merriweather announced, "This is a celebration and one thing we know how to do in Two Rivers is celebrate. Where are you Charlie? We need a song!"
Toothless Charlie stepped from the sidelines and, instead of speaking to Abby, pulled her into a bear hug. She laid her head against his shoulder unable to prevent tears for both their losses, but also tears of thanksgiving that his kind words had paved the way for her recovery. He released her, swiped his own eyes, and walked to the piano where Mrs. Merriweather had settled on the bench. He nodded and she began playing a happy tune that he sang in perfect pitch.
Abby glanced around for Jenny and Luke. Brant grinned and enfolded her hand in his. "Come with me, sweetheart." He pulled her through the parishioners and toward the back door of the church. Everyone seemed to understand his intent and didn't interrupt their progress.
Stepping outside, he pointed to the big oak with the tree swing. "They've been waiting for you."
Jenny sat on the swing and Luke pushed her. A sob caught in Abby's throat as she ran forward.
Jenny pushed her heels into the ground to stop the swing's motion and jumped off so she could run to throw her arms around Abby. "Mama!" she cried. "I love you. I'm so happy you’re home!"
Abby held her little girl tightly. "My precious daughter, I'm so sorry I left the way I did."
"Oh Mama, it's okay because you're better!"
Abby kissed the top of Jenny's head and looked toward Luke still standing behind the swing. "Jenny, I need to talk to Luke."
Jenny nodded her understanding and stepped beside her pa. He placed his arm around her shoulders and encouraged Abby with his eyes.
Stepping purposefully forward, Abby approached Luke. He held her gaze for a second and then fidgeted, looking at the ground. When she stood in front of him, she could see tears glistening as he rapidly blinked. Silently, she placed her arms around him and he melted against her, sobbing, "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you."
"Oh, Luke, and I'm sorry for leaving you when you needed me. Can we forgive each other and become a family?"
"Yes, Ma," he choked, and clung to her.
Abby felt other arms encircling her when Brant and Jenny joined them. Together the family wept and hugged and encouraged one another.
After a long time, Brant said, "Luke, tell Abby your news."
Abby looked at her son's face, no longer sullen and unreadable. With a big smile, he said, "I won the Philadelphia Inquirer's writing contest!"
Epilogue
1888
On a lovely summer day, Brant said, "Is everyone ready?"
"Yes, Pa," Luke said, and waved the paper in his hand.
"I am, too." Jenny held up the picture she'd drawn.
Wally barked.
"Let's go," said Abby.
Brant lifted their six week old son from her arms. "Okay. Let's do it."
Together the family left the cabin and followed the short trail to the sturdy oak where Mo
lly and Ty rested in eternal peace. Jenny picked wild flowers during the stroll and when they arrived, laid a bouquet beside each stone.
Brant nodded at Luke and he lifted his first-place certificate. "Ma and Ty, last year I won a writing contest and now the newspaper wants me to write some serialized stories for them. If it weren't for Abby, I wouldn't have this opportunity. She's a real good ma." Luke looked at his sister. "Your turn."
Jenny laid her drawing on the space between the graves. "Ma and Ty, I've been drawing a lot and Pa and Mama Abby think I'm pretty good. I drew a picture of all of us. You and Ty are in heaven and watching us on earth and smiling. I don't feel as sad as I did before because I know we're all happy." She glanced at her pa and nodded that it was his turn.
Brant stretched his arms out with the baby. "Me and Abby have a son." His voice broke, "I loved you both so much. After your deaths, Abby made me want to live again. This life doesn't always go the way we planned, but the one thing that never changes is love. It's eternal. Molly and Ty, you are forever with us." He hugged the baby back against his heart and looked at Abby.
Abby stepped forward. "Ty, I think of you everyday with a heart full of love. For the rest of my days I will find joy in memories of our short time together and when I leave this life, I will hold you again. Molly, I love Brant and promise to do everything in my power to fulfill my wedding vows. Although we've never met, I know you through the character you instilled in your children and the love you inspired in Brant. Thank you."
Brant pulled Abby close to his side and Jenny and Luke stood on either side of them. Jenny bent to pick up her drawing. Suddenly, two butterflies flitted above the graves before one landed on Molly's stone and the other on Ty's. Jenny pointed to her picture and said excitedly, "There they are."
Abby, Brant, and Luke gazed at the drawing. On each headstone a butterfly rested. After their initial shock, the hillside echoed with laughter.