After the storm tired itself out, I’d heard the wagon leave when Abel drove Della home. He never came to feed the calf, and for that I was grateful. I couldn’t bear the thought of him finding me there in the loft, red-eyed and stunned.
Every encounter we’d had replayed in my head. He must have started second-guessing our kiss. A kiss that came just before I’d told him the grim injury to his arm was because of me, before I’d seen a fire that wasn’t there. Later, with Della’s steady, comfortable presence close by, it seemed Abel had spread out the cards, and decided I was a risky bet he wasn’t willing to make.
I shifted onto my back and stared out the window high above. The hard, distant stars glittered in the black sky. Their silver light, so bright and cold, reminded me of Miss Maeve’s eyes.
As night began to lighten to dusky dawn, I went to the smaller barn that housed the milk cow. Dragging the stool into place, I settled in and got to work. The rhythmic shing-shing-shing of milk hitting the tin pail filled the quiet barn. I finished faster than ever. My days here were numbered, and I had to hash everything out with Abel before Miss Pimsler came to rescue Lilah and me.
Gathering my pail, I headed across the yard to the house, pulse pounding hard enough to feel in my fingertips. Abel would return from his pre-breakfast work soon, and I had to find a way to speak to him.
The clatter and bang of cast iron on the cooktop greeted me in the kitchen. Hettie, her back to me, scrambled eggs with agitated vigor. “Got the milk in early, I see. We’ll churn some butter later,” she said, half turning in my direction. A troubled frown flitted across her face.
I poured myself a cup of coffee from the percolator on the stove. “Have you seen Abel this morning?”
“He’s gone into town.” Hettie seemed even more taciturn than usual, but I decided against asking about her mood. She continued to scramble the eggs as though she wanted to disintegrate their very molecules. When Big Tom entered, we ate in silence, and I caught a few odd glances between the couple. After we finished, I cleaned the kitchen and went out to weed the kitchen garden.
I worked under an overcast sky, glancing at the road over and over, waiting for Abel’s return. At last he came into view, riding Merlin at a jaunty pace. His crisp white shirt, with one sleeve rolled up over his cast, nearly glowed in the morning sun, and his trousers were creased sharp enough to cut. A little fancy for early-morning errands, I thought. The trill of a whistled tune spun through the air around him.
Nervous energy coursed through my veins. I nearly hoed through the toe of my boot while I waited for him to finish stabling Merlin. When he stepped out of the barn, I motioned him over. “Can we talk?”
Abel looked oddly relieved. “I’m glad you asked.” He pointed to a path leading toward the apple orchard. “Why don’t we go for a walk?”
We moved slowly, the space between us feeling miles wide. The winding footpath across the yard carried us into a small circle of trees. Apple blossoms, long-fallen and brown-edged, crushed under our boots. I spied a small wooden swing, motionless on a low limb. Sinking onto its seat, I wrapped my hands around the timeworn ropes.
Abel leaned against the tree’s trunk, his face deep in shadows. “I need to tell you something,” he said again.
“I already know about Della.” There was iron in my voice.
“You do?” His light brows lifted. “How?”
I dragged my feet to stop the swing. “I saw the two of you.” Standing, I stepped onto the seat so we were at eye level with each other. “On the porch. I just want to know why.”
I left my other questions unspoken: Was it because of Maeve’s attack? Because he thought I might be unbalanced? Because I’d wanted to leave Arkansas? Or because I simply wasn’t enough somehow?
Abel rubbed at the back of his neck. “Everyone said Della and I would be a fine match, ever since we were kids. I don’t know why it took me so long to agree.” He took a bracing breath. “I’ve just come back from Della’s. I asked for her hand in marriage. And she accepted.”
My pulse exploded inside my ears. I gripped the ropes harder, feeling as though I were spinning.
Abel fixed his eyes on the trampled apple blossoms at our feet. “I know this is hard to hear, but I owe it to you. What happened between you and me … I shouldn’t have let you kiss me. Or kissed you back. It was a line I was wrong to cross.” He looked at me then, full on. “I hope this doesn’t end our friendship.”
I could feel myself crumbling from the inside. “Is that all I am to you now? A friend?”
“I thought maybe we were more,” he said. “For a while, I thought there might be a future for us. But I know you’ll be leaving for New York again as soon as you can. You’ve got a whole life planned out, and—”
The outrage that swelled in my throat threatened to choke me. “Does Della know about what happened with us?”
“Not in detail,” he admitted. “I think she assumed you and I were interested in each other, but there’s no misunderstanding now.” He looked down, lashes grazing his cheeks. “She knows I love her.”
My legs suddenly felt numb. Slowly, I lowered myself onto the little swing. “I see.” My voiced flattened under the weight of humiliation and loss.
“I never meant to lead you on,” he said. “But I know I did just that. You’ve got every right to be furious with me. Just please don’t let this pull you away from Della.” He clenched his hat in his hands, searching my face, waiting for my agreement.
In that moment, I buried any lingering hopes for a future with Abel. The final shovel of dirt showered down when I realized that, while he felt badly for me, my battered emotions were nothing compared to his worry that Della might be upset.
I wanted to rage at him. To let loose the tears that burned behind my eyes, tell him that I’d started to love him and a traitorous, unstoppable part of me still wanted to, in spite of what he was saying. But I did none of those things.
“I have no reason to hold a grudge against Della.” The words were ashes on my tongue. “I only hope, for her sake, that you don’t play her for a fool.”
“I never would.” His earnest expression made me want to be sick.
“Big Tom and Hettie are working in the hayfield,” I said, realizing they’d known what Abel’s outing to Della’s had been about. That was the cause of their troubled quiet this morning. The Weatheringtons, at least, had cared about how this engagement would hurt me. “They’re probably waiting for you.”
Abel pushed away from the tree trunk, taking a hesitant step toward where I sat in the swing. Broken shade scattered shards of light across his face. “Very—”
“Verity, please.” I twisted the rope until I faced away from him. Childish, perhaps, but I couldn’t let him see my face contort with pain. “Tell Big Tom and Hettie I’ll be there soon.”
For an aching few breaths, I thought he’d say more. He didn’t, and I listened as his footfalls faded and died. I untwisted the swing only when I was sure he’d be out of sight. Then, legs pumping and arms straining, I swung as hard and high as I could.
Closing my eyes and leaning back, I felt the strain of my muscles and the wind rushing past my ears. I swung as though I were still a carefree little girl, one who didn’t know that the people I needed could ever go away. Higher and higher I went, until my hair brushed the leaves above, and at the zenith of each swing, I felt myself lift off the seat. For a split second, my body was weightless. I wanted to seize that perfect, airborne moment and fly away.
The feeling of freedom ended. I plummeted back toward the ground, hard and fast, the wind drying the tears on my cheeks.