Penny Richards - Wolf Creek Wedding

* * *

It was almost dark when Caleb pulled the wagon to the rear of the house. The temperature was dropping since the sun had gone down, and he shivered, dreading the conversation to come. The feeling of trepidation vanished somewhat the moment he opened the back door and felt the tide of warm, cooking-scented air rush out to meet him. Breathing in the delicious aromas, he shifted the heavy sack of flour from his shoulder to the floor. Venison. Purple hull peas. Cornbread. Every night since Abby had come to stay he’d come in at suppertime to find something simmering on the back the stove.

Never much of a cook, Emily had stopped all attempts to do so when she’d announced her pregnancy, complaining of nausea, backaches and a general malaise. Soon she declared she was unable to do anything but knit and read, and in the subtle way she had, she made him feel like pond scum for putting her in her delicate condition. Rather than let the whole town know the situation, Caleb himself did what cooking and cleaning was to be done. Coming in and finding dinner waiting was nice, cooked by a stranger or not.

“How were the Emersons?” Abby said, setting the plates on the round oak table.

“Fine.”

“Did you get the apples?”

He nodded. “Just picked.”

“Wonderful.” They sat down to eat, Ben said the prayer and after a few more questions that received short answers, Abby deduced that Caleb was not in the mood for any type of conversation and stopped talking except to ask if she could pass him any more food.

When the awkward meal was finished, she put Laura in the square, quilt-lined “pen” William had made for her and gave Ben a piece of butterscotch Mary had thoughtfully sent. Abby told him to eat it on the porch and to get ready for bed as soon as he was finished. Caleb helped clear the table, something he’d gotten used to doing while fending for himself and continued to do for Abby.

He was setting a glass into the dishwater when she turned suddenly, a frown on her face. She was so close that he could see the almost-purple flecks in her blue eyes. So close he could smell the faint scent of the gardenia-scented soap she used for bathing. The sudden rush of awareness that jolted through him caught him off guard. Bart was right. Abby Carter was pretty. Very pretty. The revelation was swept away on another tidal wave of guilt. He took a sudden step back. What was the matter with him? His wife dead not two weeks, and he already found himself responding to the nearness of another woman!

“You seem distracted, Caleb. Is something wrong? Did Mr. Haversham refuse to discuss the farm?”

“No,” Caleb said, thankful to turn his thoughts to something else. “As a matter of fact, he said he’d drop by on Sunday afternoon on his way back from his daughter’s.”

“Good,” she said, but the worry stayed in her eyes. “Do you think he’ll be open to what I have to say?”

Careful not to look at her, he wrapped the leftover cornbread in a flour-sack dish towel and lifted his wide shoulders in a shrug. “I didn’t get into things with him, but Nate’s a fair man, so I’m inclined to think he’ll listen with an open mind.”

“That’s a relief.” Neither spoke for several seconds.

“Abby, I—”

“Caleb, what—”

They both started to speak at once.

“Ladies first.”

“It’s just that something’s wrong,” she said, her blue eyes worry-filled. “I can tell. Did Ben—”

Caleb’s first thought was that it was amazing that she could read his mood after less than two weeks, something Emily had never been able to do. “Ben’s done nothing that I know about.”

“Then what?”

He drew a deep breath, crossed his arms over his chest and plunged. “There’s gossip in town.”

“Gossip? About what?”

“Us. It seems Sarah VanSickle and some of the others in town think it’s morally indecent for us to be living in the same house.”

“But I go to church with Sarah,” Abby said, as if the statement would negate the whole affair.

“If that old battle-ax is a Christian, I want no part of it.”

“None of us is perfect, Caleb, and you’d do well to think twice about throwing out the baby with the bathwater.”

Though she said the right thing, in her heart, she wanted to go to Sarah, confront her about her vicious character attacks and demand an accounting. Had the spiteful woman given any serious thought to her actions? Did she have any idea of the harm she was causing two innocent people—even more if you considered the children? Abby blinked back the sting of tears. As much as she might want to confront her accuser, she knew she wouldn’t.

A sudden thought occurred to her. “Caleb, we aren’t living in the same house! If we make that clear, everyone will understand.”

Caleb set the towel-wrapped bread in the pie safe, rested his elbow across its corner and regarded her with angry gray eyes. “Believe me, that was the first thing I pointed out to Mary and Bart, but they reminded me that a trifling thing like the truth does not matter one bit to Sarah. As a matter of fact, she’s notorious about never letting facts get in the way of her maliciousness.”

Abby cradled her hot cheeks in her palms. While the unwarranted accusations infuriated Caleb, the tears swimming in her eyes said she was more hurt and embarrassed than angry. He thrust his hands into his front pockets and stared out the window at the darkness, wondering what he could do to fix the mess they found themselves in.

“Do you think there are other people in town who feel the same way?” she asked.

He shot her a look that said he couldn’t believe her naïveté. “Count on it.”

“Well, then, I’ll leave first thing in the morning,” she said firmly, as if the decision would put an end to the whole matter.

“You will not!”

Shocked by his vehemence, she shook her head and said, “It’s the only thing we can do. My reputation is at stake. So is yours.”

“I’m not worried about my reputation,” he said, a muscle in his lean jaw tightening. “People have been talking about the Gentrys for years. But I am concerned about you. And I’m very concerned about my daughter.”

He took a breath and let it out slowly, as if he were trying to release the tension holding him. The fierce look in his eyes softened a bit as they met Abby’s. “Look, we’ve already been through all this and decided this is the best way.”

“But that was before Sarah’s accusations.”

“I understand, but we don’t need to let her wreck a perfectly good partnership. Why don’t we both sleep on it tonight. Things always look better in daylight. Maybe we’ll dream up some way to resolve things that even Sarah VanSickle can’t argue with.”

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