“He was chasing me for fun, but I fell and tumbled down a little hill.”
“Of course.” Abigail tied off the thread and carefully studied another spot on the skirt of her gown.
“Robert wants to marry me. I said yes.”
“Probably a very good idea.”
“What are you doing to that gown?”
“Embroidering flowers on it. It has some spots along the hem I could not wash out so I am trying to hide them.”
“Oh, well, that will be pretty when you are done.” Julia frowned. “Yet this takes a lot of time, doesn’t it? Would it not be just as quick to make a new dress? I wager you can even get a green as pretty as that one.”
“I don’t think so. Cloth is very dear and rare at the moment. This war has caused a lot of trouble with that. Winter probably adds to that. It was difficult enough to get the colored thread.”
Julia frowned. “I had not realized that but then I have had no need of anything yet.”
“Trust me in this, Julia. I have been to the general store and the prices there make me wonder if this is a gold mining town.” She shook her head. “The owner is enriching himself, I am sure of it.” She readied her needle again and began to work on another spot.
“I need to go and rest. And warm up a bit. Is it our turn to help with the evening meal?”
“No, Barbara and Kate are to do it tonight. Just hang my cape up in our room. Best not to flaunt the grass stains.”
Blushing, Julia hurried away and Abigail sighed. She had a feeling her words had sounded like a condemnation to Julia. She would have to make it clear that they had not been. It was all too easy to understand Julia and Robert’s reckless behavior. Falling in love with a soldier was not easy, and the constant shadow of losing him at any time never left. She could only hope that they had considered all the possible repercussions, but there was something about Julia, something she could not yet point to as tangible proof, which told her it was already too late to avoid them.
She had only been at the house for eight weeks and she had seen more than she had ever wanted to of death, blood, and horrible wounds. What she had done for Boyd had brought attention her way. The doctor himself had come to request her help. She did not really mind even though some of the wounds had turned her stomach. Men could find a way to kill each other even in the depths of winter. The doctor was a good man, one who did not just hack off a wounded limb, and he fully appreciated the skills she had gathered while working with her father over the years. He had even confided that he now believed women should be able to study all that could make them a doctor if they wished to. Yet she found it sad and wearying to see so many young men injured or dying. Blue or gray, it did not matter. The constant waste of life was beginning to sicken her.
There was one bright side to it all and she decided she needed to fix her mind on that. She had also seen to the care of the women and children in the town. The doctor was expected to care for the soldiers so the women came to her. She knew they looked on her as a particularly skilled midwife but she did not care. It was work she was happy to do because the outcomes were mostly good ones.
Her days were busy, she was safe, she had work that kept her mind and hands occupied, and she had friends for the first time since leaving Pennsylvania. Only one thing troubled her. Where was Matthew? She had only seen him once since she had been put in this house, aside from his brief stop to check on her on the day she entered the house and give her a quick kiss. It was a brief visit about two weeks ago where they had shared coffee and little cakes and talked while all the other women in the room sat nearby pretending not to listen. He had stolen another quick kiss and she began to think they were just friendly things in his mind. She sighed and concentrated on her embroidery. Matthew would visit when and if he wanted to and she would cease to take his absence personally.
* * *
Matthew watched the Rebel camp through his spyglass. It certainly looked as if they were readying for an attack. Putting away the spyglass, he started to move back, careful to make no sound or disturb any of the bushes he was hiding in. It would take him a while to get back to where Jed waited with his horse and he really did not want to cover the distance with Rebs hot on his trail. He wondered how James was doing on his spying foray and hoped whatever the man saw or heard would match with what he had discovered. The very last thing he wished to do was return and lie on the cold ground to recheck what he had seen.
What he wanted, he decided as he stood and broke into an easy run, was to go and visit with Abbie. She fascinated him, he finally admitted to himself. She could shoot better than many a man and yet she painted flowers on a wagon. She dealt with stomach-churning injuries of soldiers, yet made certain little Noah would soon get a puppy to replace the one that had been killed with the rest of his family. She had kindly mended the tear in the sleeve of his uniform but then embroidered a snake over the signs of mending. He was still not sure how he felt about that.
His conscience told him he should go to a whore and rut until every last drop of fascination with Abigail was gone from his system. Yet he had no urge to do that. He did not know if he even wanted to pursue any woman, especially not one as properly raised as Abigail had been. The war made such a thing as courting a big risk, plus he knew he had been hardened by the war, and was not even the rough-at-the-edges gentleman he used to be. He was no longer suitable for a properly raised young woman, especially one who had lost so much to the war.
“Hey, sir! Over here!”
Matthew stopped, looked around, and finally saw Jed ride out of a thick cluster of trees leading his horse. “Ye had to hide? Someone come this way?”
“Two fellars. Rebs. Think they mean to spy on the town. Thought about just shooting them but was afeared the shots would bring us unwanted company.”
“It would have done. I suspicion the Rebel camp is close enough to hear them.”
“Saw a whole camp, did you?” Jed asked as Matthew mounted his horse.
“I did and it kept growing, raiders riding in and staying.” He nudged his mount into a slow walk. “Also saw a small troop of men with a wagon of supplies and a small cannon.”
“Damn, that ain’t good.”
Matthew sighed. “Nay, it isnae. I’m curious to see if James gets the same information.”
“I am thinking he might find that camp he went to watch is empty now.”
“Aye, and if so, it certainly points to trouble for us.”
