“You are quite welcome, dear. We are looking forward to introducing you to our church family and others in town. We really are quite excited about having you here.”
The older Wellingtons followed them out onto the porch, and Abigail waved to them as she left. She dreaded the long evening awaiting her back at the hotel after Marcus dropped her off.
Once they were on their way, Abigail turned to Marcus and said, “Your parents are wonderful, Mr. Wellington. They made me feel very welcome. Thank you for taking me.”
“They felt the same about you. I could tell,” Marcus replied. And his parents did. It was obvious that they liked Abigail Connors from the first. Perhaps it was because she was their good friends’ daughter, but he had a feeling his parents would have taken to Abigail even if she weren’t. “Thank you for going to see them.”
“I’m glad I did—and that I get to see them again. Are you sure you don’t mind picking me up and taking me to church—”
“Of course not. I’ll be happy to. I’d be—”
“Oh yes,” Abigail interrupted. “I’d almost forgotten you are being paid—”
“Miss Connors, I’d be happy to take you to church even if your father hadn’t hired my agency to protect you while you are here.” Marcus had a feeling that he knew what she was thinking and wanted to assure her. “I will be more than glad to take you to church and back to my parents’ home for Sunday dinner.”
She was silent for a moment, and then she said, “Thank you. I will be ready.”
“Good.” Marcus hoped that she’d seen she was more than just a client to him. “Since there is that family connection, do you think we might be able to call each other by our first names?” He grinned at her, hoping for a smile.
“I suppose we could. It would certainly be easier if we are to see much of each other while I am here.”
“Oh, we’re going to see each other, Abigail—aside from the fact that my firm is in charge of protecting you, you are also a friend of the family.”
“Then we can go by first names. Marcus it will be.”
He liked the way she said his name.
“Well then, Abigail, would you care to have dinner at your hotel with me tonight?”
“Marcus, you don’t have to watch me every waking hour.”
“I know that. The invitation wasn’t part of the job. We both have to eat, and I often eat at the Arlington. The food is excellent.” They arrived at the hotel just then, and the topic was dropped for the time being. Marcus, however, had every intention of getting back to it.
He helped Abigail down from the buggy and walked her inside the hotel. But before he saw her to her room, he took hold of her arm and steered her toward Morgan, who’d come into the hotel just ahead of them. Marcus had let him know earlier that he could take a few hours off. Now he was sitting in a chair that had a good view of the staircase, reading—or pretending to read—a paper.
“Morgan, I thought Miss Connors should meet the men I have assigned to her. Miss Connors, this is Alan Morgan. He is on day duty this weekend.”
“How do you do, Miss Connors? Be assured that if you need anything, I’ll be right here.”
“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I’m glad to know who you are and that I can call on you if needed.”
“Anytime, ma’am.” The agent bowed at the waist.
“Your relief will be here shortly, Morgan, and I’ll be talking to you later.”
“Yes, sir,” Morgan said. He went back to his paper as Marcus led Abigail away.
He accompanied her up to her room and took the key from her. After unlocking the door and giving a look inside, he handed the key back to her. “You know, you never answered me. Will you have supper with me? We both have to eat, and while those little sandwiches my mother served are delicious, they didn’t do much to fill me up.” He looked down at her with a grin.
“I’d like to change first. Can you wait for me to do that?”
She looked up into his eyes, and Marcus felt something he’d never experienced before. He wasn’t even sure what it was. He only knew he badly wanted her to say yes, and he’d wait for however long it took.
“I can. Will an hour be enough time?” He’d wait longer if needed.
“Yes, I can be ready by then.”
“I’ll be back up to get you”—Marcus looked at his watch—“at seven o’clock.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He nodded and turned to leave, grinning as he did so. He didn’t have much time either, if he was going to change and get back by seven.
❧
Abigail was extremely proud that she’d managed to get ready with five minutes to spare before Marcus would be knocking on her door. Thanks to Bea’s help earlier that day, her hair still looked quite nice. And due to Bea, all of her frocks were pressed and ready to choose from, so it made an easy time of it for Abigail. Thankfully, she didn’t have to change undergarments, and she chose a dress of peach satin with a brown overskirt that draped to the back. She’d just finished putting on her jewelry when Marcus arrived.
From the look in his eyes, she felt she looked quite presentable.
“You look lovely.” He smiled into her eyes. “And I am starving. Are you ready?”
“Yes, I am. And I’m a little hungry, too.”
“I told you those little sandwiches don’t fill one up. Let’s go.” He took the key from her and locked the door behind them before handing it back to her. She took the arm he offered, and they descended the stairs and walked to the dining room.
Abigail had thought she’d been treated well the night before, but evidently coming in with a gentleman did gain one a higher level of service. Or perhaps it was because of the man she was with. Marcus seemed to garner respect wherever he went. She’d noticed it from the train depot to the hotel clerk and bellboys, and now—here at the restaurant. They were seated at a table in front of the windows, where Abigail could be seen as well as see most of the other diners in the room. She took the seat the waiter held out for her and glanced around. Satisfied that she was dressed in a similar style to the other women in the room, she felt herself relax, only briefly letting herself wonder why it mattered more tonight than it had the night before.
They looked over the menus the waiter had left. “I had the veal last night, and it was delicious, but I’d like to try something different tonight.”
“I can recommend the filet of beef with scalloped potatoes and brown sauce,” Marcus said. “It is one of my favorite dishes.”
Abigail scanned the menu before nodding her head. “I’ll try that, then. Do you really eat here often?”
“I do—several times a week, in fact. It’s near my apartment and office.”
“You don’t eat at your parents’?” Abigail was curious about this man who’d been hired to protect her.
“Of course I do. But many times I am working late or in a hurry, and it’s easier to eat out.”
The waiter came back to the table, and while Marcus gave him their order, she was able to look at Marcus without his knowing. He looked quite handsome in his black wool suit and crisp white shirt. She could feel the color creep up her face when he looked back to see her watching him, and she quickly turned her head and looked out the window while he finished their order.
She liked Hot Springs at night. The streetlights made it easy to see who was out and about, and she felt almost as safe as when she was at home in Eureka Springs. But was that because of the lighting outside or the man across from her? She knew. Much as she didn’t want to admit it—and sometimes resented it—part of her was glad that Marcus Wellington was in charge of her safety.
“What time do you want to start checking out the bathhouses on Monday?” Marcus asked once the waiter left the table.
“I thought around ten in the morning.” Abigail had slept in that day, but normally, even if she was up late the night before, she was a fairly early riser. And even if she weren’t, she wouldn’t want Marcus Wellington to think she wa
s lazy. After all, she’d promised her father that she would check into things for him, and he would want to think she was acting in a professional way.
“That should be a good time. If not, I’m sure you can set up appointments with the managers for another time.”
“That is true. It isn’t as if I have to do it all in one day.” After all, she had no intention of going back home anytime soon.
Their first course of cream of asparagus soup arrived, and while they ate, Marcus pointed out several people he knew. Actually, it was more than several; it seemed he knew most of the people in the dining room. She supposed it was no different than when she was out in Eureka Springs. She’d been born and raised there, and while she knew many people, she couldn’t recall ever being treated with such open respect and friendliness as she’d seen Marcus treated with. It wasn’t a thought she wanted to explore—not at the moment anyway—and she was relieved when the waiter brought the next course and broke into her thoughts.
The filet of beef was the most tender she’d ever eaten, and she was glad Marcus had suggested it. “This is wonderful. I can see why it is one of your favorites.”
“I’m glad you like it. Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me. It’s nice to have company.”
Abigail had a feeling he could have company any time he wanted, but she didn’t say so. “You are welcome. I don’t really like eating alone, either.” Now why did I say that? Marcus didn’t need to know that.
“I’m sure you don’t have to do it often. And once you meet people here, you won’t need to anymore. I’m sure you’ll have invitations from many people and keep me quite busy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will be the one accompanying you most of where you go while you are here.”
“I’m sure you have more important things to do. I assumed you’d assign one of your agents to watch me.”
“I thought about it, but I’ve decided to do that myself. You are the daughter of the man who helped me start my business. My father makes a good living, but I didn’t want to take money that he might need in his own business. Your father loaned me money when no one else would. . .not to mention that he is an old family friend. And I’m sure that by the time you leave Hot Springs, you will be considered a family friend in your own right.”
While Abigail hoped he was right—she really liked his parents and could see why her parents regarded them so highly—she reminded herself that in escorting her around town, Marcus would only be doing the job her father was paying him to do. That thought dampened her mood somewhat, and she was glad that their dessert of orange and cream coconut cake was served so that she didn’t have to talk—but she found she’d lost her appetite. She mostly pushed the cake around on her plate until she looked up to find Marcus watching her.
“Are you all right? This cake is delicious, and you’ve barely touched it.”
He really had the most brilliantly blue eyes Abigail had ever seen, and looking into them did funny things to her heart. “I guess I’m still a little tired from the travel and all.”
“That is understandable. Would you like some coffee or tea before we leave?”
“No, thank you. I’ve asked for tea to be brought to my room each night before bedtime. It helps me sleep better.” At least it usually did. Abigail hoped it would settle her down tonight and make her sleepy. She didn’t want another night like the last one.
Marcus motioned the waiter over and paid for their meal.
“You don’t have to pay for mine. They can put it on my hotel bill.”
Marcus shook his head as the waiter left the table. “No. I asked you to have dinner with me.” He got up and pulled out her chair.
As Marcus guided her through the dining room, they were stopped several times by diners who knew him, and he made sure to introduce her to the people at each table. By the time they left the dining room, she knew she’d never remember all their names; Marcus knew them all, and she’d just have to count on him to remind her.
He walked her to her room and, after taking her key, unlocked the door. “Wait here.” He entered, and Abigail assumed he was checking the room to make sure no one was there. When he came out, he handed the key back to her. “Everything is fine. I hope you sleep well.”
She took the key and was surprised when an electric spark shot up her arm at the brief touch of his fingertips against hers. “I—thank you for dinner. It was delicious.”
“You are welcome. Thank you for putting up with my company.” He grinned at her, and that dimple at the corner of his mouth seemed to deepen as he looked down at her.
She couldn’t help but smile back. “It was nice to have company. What time should I be ready in the morning?”
“I’ll be here to pick you up at nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be ready.” I did it today; surely I can do it tomorrow.
Marcus gave a little salute and turned to leave. “It looks as if your pot of tea is arriving.”
Sure enough, a bellboy was bringing her tea tray. Marcus waited until he set it down on the table in Abigail’s sitting room and left. Then he turned to Abigail again. “You sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She nodded and stepped inside the room. “I’ll see you then.”
“Lock the door. I won’t leave until you do.”
“All right.” Abigail stepped inside and shut the door. Then she turned the key in the lock and wondered if he was waiting to hear the click it made.
“Good girl. Good night, Abigail.”
“Good night, Marcus.”
It was only when she crossed the room and took out her earrings while looking in the mirror that she realized she was smiling. She moved to the side of the window and pulled the drapes aside just a bit to look down at the street, wondering if Marcus was still in the hotel talking to the agent who was in the lobby that night or if he’d already left.
She watched for a moment longer until a man who looked to be about Marcus’s size walked out. From the gaslight below, she was pretty sure it was he, and when he turned and looked up, her heart did a flip. Was he looking up at her room? She quickly dropped the drape and moved away from the window. Even though she didn’t think he could see her looking out, she wanted to be sure.
She poured her tea and sipped, thinking back over the evening. If she had to be protected, she supposed it could be worse. Marcus was actually very easy to be around—not to mention how entertaining it was to watch for that dimple. All in all, maybe it won’t be so bad having someone to watch over me. Especially since Marcus had decided he would be the one to escort her around town.
❧
Marcus walked outside the hotel and didn’t try to stop himself from looking up at the windows of Abigail’s room. Watching over her was his job, after all. The light still glowed, and he imagined her sipping her tea. Was she thinking back over the evening?
He hoped she enjoyed herself as much as he did. It had been a treat to have such a lovely woman sitting across from him for dinner. Most of the time, he ate alone, and he’d found Abigail to be quite captivating as a dinner companion.
She seemed to want to come across as tough and independent, but he had a feeling she was anything but. Something in the expression in her eyes made him want to know more about her—something that reached out to him in a way he’d never experienced before.
He felt protective of her, and this feeling had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that her father had hired him to do just that. He wanted to know what it was that made her look so vulnerable and why her wedding had been called off. Perhaps it was time to find out more than what Jacob had told him. Marcus felt an urgent need to know all he could about Abigail Connors because she was quickly becoming more than just a client to him.
He headed home, determined to find out all he could about her and looking more than a little forward to the next day. While he walked, he prayed that the Lord would help Abigail with whatever it was that made her look so sad when she tho
ught no one was watching her.
Five
Abigail was proud of herself the next morning. She managed to put her hair up the way Bea had explained to her, and she was dressed in her favorite Sunday dress when Marcus picked her up for the ride to church.
His parents were waiting for them, and while Mr. Wellington greeted her by clasping her hand in his, Mrs. Wellington gave her a hug as soon as Abigail turned to her. Then she took over from Marcus and led her into the church. From the moment Abigail entered the church, she felt at home.
Mrs. Wellington introduced her as they made their way to a pew near the front of the building. Over and over again, Mrs. Wellington said, “Please meet Abigail Connors, the daughter of dear friends of ours in Eureka Springs.” She’d give the parishioners’ names, too, and Abigail could only hope she would remember some of them. As she took her seat beside Mrs. Wellington, she realized that she hadn’t been to church since she’d broken her engagement to Nate. She couldn’t face having to explain everything to the people she’d gone to church with all her life.
Now she wondered why. Had she been afraid that they’d be talking about her behind their hymnals? Or that they might be thinking that the broken engagement was what she deserved? She’d known those people all her life, yet. . .had she really? As the service got underway with prayer and singing, Abigail realized that through the years she’d gone to church more because it was expected of her than because she wanted to be there. . .needed to be there. Oh, dear Lord, please forgive me. Please help me to become the child You want me to be, and please forgive me for putting everything else in front of You.
Abigail blinked back tears and hoped that no one noticed. She’d been so concerned with herself she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d prayed. Nor could she really recall listening to a sermon all the way through. But today was different, and she found herself holding on to every word the minister was saying about forgiveness of others and one’s self. She was beginning to realize that she had much to ask forgiveness for.
A Love All Her Own Page 4