“Why not before?”
“It clearly does not strike you, but Mrs. Beaton is a very formidable presence. We have all fallen into her habits and her ways and she has little to nothing to do with the children. She occasionally has a moment or two of fawning over the little girl, but that is all. I do not believe she likes the little boys much at all. Some have made mention of the fact that the children are ignored, but no one dares say so to her or act in any way that might offend her.”
“I suspect I will be offending her fine senses a lot then.” She smiled faintly when Julia laughed.
*
Matthew stepped outside and looked back at the door of the Woman’s House. Her mouth had been as soft and sweet as he had thought it would be. It was probably reckless to kiss her as he did, but he had been unable to stop thinking about her mouth and thus unable to resist the temptation to taste it when it was so close. What troubled him was that he knew now he would want another taste and more.
It was early to seek his bed, but if he was going to do some thinking whether he wanted to or not, he might as well do it while lying on his back. Under the blankets was a lot warmer than wandering outside now that winter had settled into the chilly, damp night air. He suspected his mind would wind about in circles but he could not stop it from preying on the matter of Miss Abigail Jenson.
Slapping his hat on his head and doing his coat up tightly against the cold, he started to walk back to where he had his bunk. Reminding himself that Abigail was a proper girl despite the fact that she could shoot better than most of them, deal with wounds so well her work impressed a doctor, and was plainspoken, she was not one of the girls at the saloon. He knew that reminder would not keep him away, however. He had to stop dancing around and really think of what he might want from her. One did not play love games with a girl like Abigail unless one was serious, and he was not sure just how serious he was.
Chapter Four
Looking up from her sewing, Abigail frowned as Julia slipped into the house. The woman looked extremely untidy, as if it was storming out, but a glance out the window told Abigail the weather was calm. There was a twig caught in Julia’s badly mussed hair and what appeared to be grass stains on her skirts. Considering the snow on the ground, she had to wonder where the girl had been. To her surprise, Julia snatched Abigail’s cape off the hook by the door, put it on, and walked over to sit down next to her.
“What have you been up to?” Abigail asked as she continued her sewing.
“I just went out walking with Robert.”
“Oh. It rather looked as if you fell down.” A quick glance caught the deep flush on Julia’s face.
“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.