Abigail (Angel Creek Christmas Brides Book 12)

by Peggy McKenzie

  “It’s Jeremy, Will. I thought I’d stop in and see how you were faring this morning after last night’s card game and after-hours party.”

  Will heard his friend laugh behind the door.

  “I’m fine, Jeremy. But I’m a little busy right now. Come back later.”

  His friend tried the doorknob. “Can’t do that, my friend. The noon stagecoach just arrived.”

  Will shuffled around the room in his quilt and found Lanora’s clothes scattered around the room. With one hand fisting his quilt in place, he picked up her things and tossed them across the room to her. He whispered, “Get dressed, Lanora.” He felt like a cad when she pouted, but if she didn’t want to be embarrassed further, she needed to put her clothes on and go.

  “Did you hear what I said, Will? The stagecoach arrived a few minutes ago, and—”

  “So what? Why do I care if the stage arrived?” He hollered at Jeremy through the door even though his brain was pounding inside his skull. Careful to keep his head as still as possible, he searched for his own clothes he’d worn to last night’s party of over-indulgence.

  “Because a letter arrived for you on the stage, along with ...some ...other things. They’re waiting for you.” His friend banged on the door again, this time with much more force. “Will, let me in. What’s with yelling through the door? I’d have thought you would have one helluva hangover this morning and you wouldn’t want to be yelling at anyone, much less through this door.”

  “Jeremy, just slide the letter under the door and leave whatever ‘things’ that arrived on the stage in the hallway. I’ll pick it all up on my way out. Later.”

  His friend wasn’t giving up and rattled the doorknob again. Harder this time. Hard enough to dislodge the door latch from the lock. It gave way without hesitation and his friend pushed the door wide open. “Will, why are you still in be—”

  Will watched his friend stop short when he caught sight of Lanora bent over, her foot propped up on the bed, sliding her stockings up her very long and very shapely legs. “Well, well, well. This explains a lot, now doesn’t it.” Jeremy grinned at him and then turned to the woman. “Good morning, Miss Babcock. I didn’t know you and my friend were so well acquainted.”

  Lanora finished dressing and pushed the hem of her skirt down. “Well, hello Lieutenant Maxwell. It’s nice to see you again so soon.” Will watched the woman flirt with his friend. Then she shot a pointed look in his direction. “We only met each other last night at the party. I dare say we know each other a lot better this morning, but not as well as I would have liked. Perhaps another time, Captain Willie?” She emphasized his name and then left his quarters in a flurry of petticoats and lace.

  Jeremy turned back to him and grinned. “Well, well, well, well—”

  “You said that already,” he groused.

  “Looks like you are getting back in the saddle again. Ah, the bachelor’s life. I wouldn’t say this to most men I know, but I think divorce suits you, Will.” Jeremy laughed.

  “Shut up and mind your own business.” Will grumbled and turned away from his friend’s good-natured ribbing. His whole body felt like it had been run over by a beer wagon. Maybe cold water would help. He dunked both hands into the washbasin and splashed cold water on his face. In spite of the icy chill he got from it, he decided it did make him feel a bit better, so he did it again, then dried his face on a clean towel. “What are you doing here so early anyway?”

  “Early? It’s half past noon, Will. And like I said before your guest went home, a letter and a package of sorts arrived for you on the noon stage. That’s why I rushed over.”

  Jeremy pulled a letter out of his uniform coat and handed it over to Will. He took it and shook his head. “What makes you think this letter is so important? I get letters all the time.” Will ripped open the envelope and reached inside to retrieve the letter.

  “I think it’s important because it came with a package ...or rather packages ...of sorts,” Jeremy offered as an explanation.

  “Packages? Of sorts? I don’t even know what that means.” Will shook his head. Sometimes his friend could really be annoying.

  “Just read the letter, Will. The packages are waiting at the stagecoach office and I doubt the coach line is going to want to hang on to them for very long.”

  “If you thought they were so important, why didn’t you bring them with you too? I mean, you grabbed the letter. Why not the packages? You could have saved me a trip.”

  “Will you just read the letter,” Jeremy urged.

  He unfolded the letter and looked at the signature. “It’s from an attorney. I hope it isn’t a new wrinkle in my divorce from Charlotte.”

  Jeremy reached out and pushed the letter up. “Read.”

  Will did just that.

  To Captain William Bennett

  United States Army

  Fort Benton, Montana Territory

  Dear Captain Bennett,

  My name is Herman Tucker, Esq., and I’m the overseer for your sister’s estate. There’s no easy way to break this to you, so I’ll just get right to the point. Your sister, Daisy Amanda Bennett Wilson, and her husband, David Paul Wilson, were killed in a stagecoach accident more than two weeks ago.

  Will’s legs buckled out from underneath him forcing him to sit on the rumpled bed. “I can’t believe it,” he mumbled to himself.

  Jeremy came to stand next to him so he could read over Will’s shoulder. “Bad news, I take it?”

  Will took another glance at the letter and reread the attorney’s script. “Yeah, it’s the worst possible news. My sister, and her husband, David, were killed a couple of weeks ago.”

  Jeremy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Will. I know how close you and your sister were.”

  “Yeah, we were. Real close.”

  “Is there anything else in the letter?” Jeremy prodded him to read on.

  “Yes, there’s more, I suppose.” Will scanned the letter and found the spot where he had left off.

  I’m truly sorry to be the bearer of such tragic news and I offer my sincere condolences. Your sister was a lovely woman with a kind spirit, and David was a very fine young man and a wonderful husband and father.”

  Will’s heart dropped. “My nieces. Where are my nieces? Were they with Daisy and David when the accident happened? Were they injured—or worse?” Will poured over the letter, trying to find something to tell him what had happened to his sister’s three little girls.

  Jeremy sat down next to him on the bed. “Will, I have a very strong feeling your nieces are just fine. Keeping reading.”

  Will followed Jeremy’s advice and returned to the letter.

  Captain Bennett, I know you are currently serving in the United States Army and I understand how difficult this transition will be for you. I’ll be following this letter with a few legal documents you will need to sign and a handwritten letter from your sister detailing her wishes. If there is anything I can do to assist you in resettling your sister’s children, you have only to let me know. You can reach me at the address below.

  Sincerely,

  Herman Tucker, Esq.

  12345 Sycamore Lane

  St. Louis, Missouri

  Will read the entire letter again. “Resettling my sister’s children? I don’t know what that means. Are they alright? Were they injured? And if so, what is their condition? Where are they now?” Will stood and paced the room dragging his quilt with him. “I need to send a telegram to this attorney and find out more about the girls.”

  Jeremy stood and placed his hand on Will’s arm to stop him mid-step. “Um, I think I can answer most of your questions.”

  Will turned to his friend. “What do you mean you can answer my questions? How the hell would you know what’s going on with my nieces? What’s happening, Jeremy? Tell me. I feel like I’m in a quicksand pool and it is sucking the life out of me.”

  “Well, you remember when I interrupted your morning goodb
ye with Lanora? I told you that you had packages at the stagecoach office. Remember?”

  “Yeah, but what has that got to do with my nieces?” His patience was wearing thin with Jeremy’s cryptic answers.

  “I met the people who are delivering your ‘packages’ and I asked that they bring them here. That was about half an hour ago, so they should be arriving any minute. You might want to get dressed for company.”

  A knock on the door followed by a woman’s voice interrupted them. “Lieutenant Maxwell? We’re here just as you instructed.”

  Will rushed to the door, but Jeremy stopped him. “Here. Put these on first.” He had picked up Will’s clothes off the floor and now he threw them at him. “I need you to be prepared, my friend. Please try not to overreact, at least ...not at first.”

  “Overreact about what? Why are you so cryptic? Just tell me what is going on.” Will put on his wrinkled britches and crumpled shirt. “You know I hate surprises.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s what I’m worried about.”

  Without waiting for his friend to give him a solid answer, he opened the door to see a woman he didn’t recognize standing in the doorway. “Can I help you, ma’am?” He hesitated and shot a confused look back to Jeremy. Jeremy joined him at the doorway. “Will, this is the person I told you about. The one who’s delivering your packages.” Jeremy turned to speak to the woman. “And have you brought them with you?”

  “Yes, sir. Just as you instructed.”

  “Good. That’s good.” Jeremy turned to him and placed his hand on Will’s shoulder. “I think you should prepare yourself.”

  “Prepare myself? For what?”

  “Ma’am, will you please bring them in?”

  “Bring who in?” Will couldn’t take much more. His head was pounding. He was still confused about how he’d spent his night last night. He had just received the most tragic news of his sister and her husband’s tragic death. He was worried to death about his little nieces. And, his usually dependable friend was acting in a very bizarre manner. He wished he could just get rid of them all and go back to bed, but from the looks of things, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Yes, of course.” The woman turned away from the door and motioned for someone to join her.

  It was then, Will saw a woman holding a baby and two little girls walking up the porch stairs outside the officer’s quarters. He knew them immediately. “Oh my gosh!” He rushed to them and dropped to his knees and pulled the two little girls into his arms and held them close, tears welling in his eyes.

  After a couple of minutes, he pulled back and looked at their dear, sweet faces. “Violet. Lily. I’m so glad to see the both of you are alright.”

  “Captain? Would you like to hold the baby?” The woman who had ushered the girls up the stairs spoke. He pulled away from Violet and Lily.

  “Of course I would,” he said. The woman extended her arms and offered him Baby Rose, wrapped in a heavy quilt. He took her, but unaccustomed to handling babies, his movements were awkward and clumsy as he adjusted her weight in his arms.

  Will looked down at the sleeping infant. Rose looked so peaceful and sweet. He pulled her close to his chest and touched his cheek to her little head. Her hair stuck to the scruff of his day-old beard, but she didn’t stir.

  “Please. Come inside,” he said, standing to the side so the two women, who brought his nieces to the fort, could enter his quarters.

  “No thank you, Captain. We really must be going. We’ve had a long trip caring for these three little ones, as you can well imagine. We’d like to get a bath, a meal, and an uninterrupted night’s sleep,” one woman said.

  “Going?” Will frowned at the woman who spoke. “Going where? Someone has to take care of these children.” He nodded toward the infant in his arms.

  Both women looked at each other in confusion and then back to him.

  “Yes, that’s right, Captain. And that someone is you.”

  Chapter 2

  Abigail had been in Angel Creek for less than a week and she was ready to go back to Charleston.

  It was colder here than she had anticipated. Snow had already fallen more than once and there was a cold, wet, chill in the air that never really seemed to disappear. It made her wish she owned more winter clothing, something she hadn’t needed back home. She would need to barter with some of the merchants to get the items she needed, since she hadn’t been able to find work.

  Rubbing her half-frozen hands together absentmindedly, she watched people trudge along the snowy sidewalk and the frozen mud-packed streets. What had she been thinking when she’d decided to leave Charleston for this? So far, she was greatly disappointed in this place called Angel Creek.

  “Hi, Abigail. Any luck yet?” A voice spoke from behind her. She turned and saw Rebecca Cassidy, the eleven-year-old daughter of Sarah Cassidy, another lost soul who left Charleston for greener pastures. She was one of the lucky ones. Her husband, Quinn, who was the sheriff of Angel Creek was certainly a catch. But those kind of men were few and far between.

  “Hi, Rebecca. No, no luck yet. I thought for sure I would have found a job by now.”

  The young girl nodded her understanding. “Yeah, usually it’s really easy to find a job around these parts. But lately, I guess everybody in Charleston has decided to move to Angel Creek,” Rebecca laughed. “Ever since me and Momma, and Charity, Ruby, and Julia wrote back home to tell everyone how wonderful our lives turned out here, it seems like all the other ladies from Charleston have come looking for the same kind of happiness we found.”

  Abigail silently agreed. Everywhere she went, there was someone recounting the hardships of their life back in Charleston, but they quickly followed up their sad stories with happy tales of their life here in Angel Creek. And although they missed their family and friends, and their former homes, they considered this town a new place to call home.

  She understood. At least she understood missing Charleston. She had yet to get to the point of finding a new life here. Or happiness. Or a job. At least...not yet.

  “Yes, I think everyone who survived the war wants a new life filled with happiness. But until I can find a job and start supporting myself, I’m afraid happiness will remain as elusive as a butterfly in winter.”

  Rebecca frowned. Abigail could tell the girl was deep in thought. “Have you talked to my momma or my papa? They know everybody in this town. Maybe they know of a job to be had.”

  “Yes, I’ve talked to the both of them. I’ve also talked to the owners of the hotel, the boarding house, the restaurant, the bakery, the mercantile, and the mail stop. I even talked to the man at the livery stable and the stagecoach line, but there are just no jobs to be had right now. None at all.”

  “I’m real sorry about that.” Rebecca’s eyes reflected her sympathy for Abigail.

  “I appreciate your kind words. I’ll just have to keep lookin’. Otherwise, I’ll be sleeping on the streets. And it’s entirely too cold for that,” Abigail joked, not wanting to frighten Rebecca with the real weight of her concerns.

  Rebecca shook her head, her long blonde hair shimmering in waves of gold down her back. “You know my momma and the other Angel Creek ladies from Charleston would never let that happen. Please don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find a job real soon. I just know it.”

  Abigail offered a half-hearted smile to the little girl. “I’m sure you’re right, Rebecca.”

  “Well, I better be gettin’ on. I’m headed to my papa’s office to take him some lunch. Would you like to walk with me? Maybe we can think of something along the way to help you find a job.”

  She smiled at the little girl. “I’d like that, Rebecca.”

  They turned toward Rebecca’s father’s office when a man’s voice called out to them.

  “Hey, there. Ladies? Could you help me, please?”

  She and Rebecca turned to see a man in a buckboard with two little girls sitting on the seat beside him.

  “Yes, s
ir. What can we do for you?” Rebecca called out to him in a friendly greeting.

  “I need help. Would either of you be able to watch my nieces while I go visit the sheriff? I need to talk to him and I don’t want to take the girls inside the jailhouse.”

  “Of course. We don’t mind at all, do we Abigail?” Rebecca approached the wagon as the man jumped off the seat and tied the horses to the hitching rail.

  “Thank you, little miss,” the handsome stranger in an army uniform said to Rebecca, his friendly smile was pleasing to look at.

  “My name is Rebecca and the sheriff is my papa. You’ll find his office right around the corner there.” She pointed down the street toward her father’s jailhouse.

  “Thank you, Rebecca.” Then he turned to Abigail and she was struck by the man’s extraordinary good looks. “And thank you, Miss…” He directed his comment to her.

  She had a hard time finding her tongue, so Rebecca answered for her. “This is my friend, Abigail. Abigail Whittaker from Charleston.”

  He smiled at her inability to speak. By the knowing look on his face, he was used to women fawning over him. “Hello, Mrs. Whittaker,” he said politely with a hint of humor in his tone.

  “Miss Whittaker,” she replied before she could stop herself. It was none of his business if she was a miss or a missus. None of his business at all.

  “I stand corrected. Miss Whittaker. My apologies.” The man’s words offered apology, but his eyes sparkled with humor at her discomfort.

  “An apology is not necessary, Captain,” Abigail insisted.

  Surprise lit up his face. “How did you know…ah, the bars on my shoulders. Of course.” He touched the brim of his hat, his eyes lingering on her face for a few seconds before he nodded and turned down the street in the direction of the sheriff’s office. Abigail found herself watching the man until he disappeared around the corner.

  “You like him, don’t you?” Rebecca asked.

  Abigail pulled her gaze away from the spot where the man had disappeared and met the clear blue eyes of an eleven-year-old who saw way too much for someone her age. “No, of course not. I’m just curious about him, that’s all. I mean, what sort of man has two little girls sitting in an open buckboard in the cold.”