The Independent Bride (31 page)

“One warm stone carefully wrapped,” he said, handing it to Abby. “Zeb roasted an onion, but I doubt Pamela could stand the smell. I know I couldn’t I’d rather have an earache.”

“You wouldn’t if you’d ever had one,” Abby said. The stone was much heavier than an onion and considerably harder. She’d have to find a way to keep it next to Pamela’s ear without binding it to her head.

“I need one of the pillows from the extra bedroom,” she said to Bryce.

“What are you going to do?” Pamela asked.

“Make a nest in the pillow so you can lay your head next to the stone. The warmth from it will make your ear feel better.”

Bryce returned with the pillow. It took only a moment for Abby to settle the stone in the middle.

“Now lay your head next to it,” Abby said to Pamela. “Does that feel better?”

“It still hurts an awful lot.”

“Give it a little time.”

“Are you going to leave now?”

“No. I said I’d stay all night if you needed me.”

“I want you to stay.” Pamela held out her hand to her father. “Daddy, too.”

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from my big girl,” Bryce said. He sat down next to his daughter in much the same position as before.

“Sarah’s momma says wild horses are dangerous, but Sarah’s daddy says he likes wild horses because they have spirit. He said I had spirit, too. Do you think I have spirit?”

“Lots and lots,” Bryce said. “You’ve got almost as much spirit as Miss Abby.”

“Sarah’s daddy says Miss Abby is a Tartar. When I asked what it meant, he said it was a good thing, but Sarah’s momma frowned. Why did she frown?”

Abby frowned herself. “I expect she thought he shouldn’t have said that to you,” she said. “It’s probably something your grandmother wouldn’t like.”

“Why?”

“Being a Tartar out here may be a good thing, but I’m not sure it would be so good in Philadelphia.”

“Why?”

Abby hadn’t been around children enough to remember that
why
was their favorite word.

“Let’s save that until tomorrow,” Bryce said. “If Abby answers everything tonight, you’ll never have time to go to sleep.”

Abby was grateful Bryce had stepped in. She adored Pamela and enjoyed being with her, but she had a lot to learn about what it meant to have a seven-year-old around all the time. It caused her to like Bryce still more for keeping his daughter with him. No one would have criticized him if he’d left her with her grandmother.

Though it was impossible for him to be with her all the time, he spent several hours with her every day. He made a point to eat breakfast and supper with her, as well as be home in the evening. The depth of his commitment to his daughter only made him more worthy of love in her eyes.

“Do I have to go to sleep?” Pamela asked.

“Your ear won’t hurt as much when you’re asleep,” Abby said “Keep it next to the stone. The heat will make it feel better.”

Pamela must have been exhausted, and the heat from the stone must have made her ear hurt less because it didn’t take more than a few minutes before her eyes closed and she fell asleep. Abby adjusted her position to be more comfortable.

“You can go home now,” Bryce whispered softly. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I promised Pamela I’d stay all night if she wanted. I can’t go back on that now.”

“How will you get any sleep?”

“I’ll sleep right here.”

“Why don’t you lie down in the extra bedroom?”

“She wants me here.”

Bryce said nothing for a few moments. Then he whispered still softer, “I want you here, too.”

But he only wanted her as long as it was convenient. Abby knew she couldn’t accept that.

Bryce eased himself up from the bed before his cramp became something it would take him the better part of a day to work out. He needed to put more oil in the lamp before it guttered and charred the wick. His stocking feet made no noise on the bare boards of the bedroom floor. He picked up the lantern and turned to leave the room, but the sight of Abby and Pamela asleep in each other’s arms mesmerized him.

He would never understand what it was about sleep that could turn looking at a child or wife into a heart-wrenching experience, but seeing Abby and Pamela was an epiphany rather than simply a moving sight. He knew without a doubt this was how things ought to be. He didn’t know why he hadn’t understood before.

Neither did he understand why Abby thought she didn’t want a family of her own. She had undoubtedly been hurt by someone, but everyone got hurt sooner or later. People got over it and moved on, rather than allowing one bad experience to ruin every chance for happiness. He’d never asked Abby about her past. Maybe telling someone else would help her put it behind her. It was obvious she loved Pamela.

Bryce knew the kind of wife he needed for his career. His experience with Margaret had proved to him that marrying for love could be dangerous. How could one tell true love from fascination, infatuation, or lust so strong it felt like a passionate and lasting love? His physical needs weren’t so strong that they blinded him to everything else. Pamela had needs that were equally important. And Abby was the perfect person who could fulfill them.

She wasn’t the perfect person to fulfill his career needs, but he was beginning to suspect she was the only person who could ever fulfill his personal ones. Giving in to those needs would mean turning his whole life— his career, his family’s expectations, and everything else—upside down. He didn’t know if he could do that. He didn’t know if he
wanted
to do that.

He left the room on silent footsteps.

But as he moved down the hall, down the steps, and to the kitchen, he couldn’t get the picture of Abby and Pamela out of his mind. If Margaret had ever comforted her child through the night, he didn’t know about it. She hadn’t wanted the discomfort of bearing a child or the responsibility of caring for it. His mother said women had children out of duty, that one of the advantages of wealth was to be able to hire someone else to take care of them.

His mother had never understood why he wanted Pamela with him. He hadn’t been sure himself in the beginning. He’d been away most of his daughter’s life. He hardly knew her. He just knew he couldn’t leave her to grow up without a mother or father. Maybe he’d resented the fact that he’d been brought up by maids and nannies.

He found the kitchen dark. Zeb had gone to bed. Bryce set down his lamp, lit the one Zeb had used, which still had plenty of oil, and blew out his own. He turned and retraced his steps.

The sight of Abby and Pamela together struck with even greater force than before. He had a visceral feeling that this was something he had to have if he was ever to be happy. That realization caused him to look at his life as he’d never done before. He’d been taught to judge his happiness by his professional success, the contributions he could make to society, to his country. Because of his privileged birth, he’d been taught his duty was greater than that of ordinary men. He was not to think of himself. Duty came before everything.

Abby had changed that.

Even though he’d done his best to convince her to go back to St. Louis, he’d been attracted to her from the first. He’d begun by thinking he was only looking out for his own interests, but somewhere during the last weeks that had changed to wanting to look out for Abby. He had fooled himself into thinking he wasn’t personally involved. Now he knew better. The question was what he was going to do about it.

He didn’t know. He’d only just realized he wanted far more from Abby than a love affair. He didn’t yet know what compromises he would be willing to make. He didn’t know whether she would be willing to make any at all. She had seemed determined to keep men out of her life. And then there was his conscience. He’d been taught his duty was to serve his country before anything else. Could be live with himself if he turned his back on that duty? Did he believe it
was
his duty?

Hell! He’d thought he had his life all figured out. Then a stubborn woman from South Carolina by way of St. Louis had come into it and upset everything. Grant had said Southerners were a stubborn lot who would stick to their beliefs no matter what it cost them. He wondered if Abby really believed she could never trust a man again.

“What are you thinking?”

The sound of Abby’s voice startled Bryce. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I woke up when you went downstairs. I’ve been watching you stand there, looking at us. What were you thinking?”

Chapter Nineteen

Bryce wasn’t ready to let anyone know what he’d been thinking. He still had more questions than he had answers.

“I was thinking it was extremely kind of you to give up your night’s rest for my daughter.”

“After all you’ve done for me, it was the least I could do in return.”

So she thought it was a duty, the repayment of a debt. Bryce felt disappointed; the excitement inside him cooled. He felt foolish for having considered turning his life upside down for a woman whose feelings hadn’t changed. This night hadn’t been an epiphany for her, but simply something she did out of duty, perhaps out of friendship as well. He wanted to leave the room, to hide. It felt as if his thoughts had somehow been exposed to her view and she’d rejected them. He was embarrassed he could be gullible enough to consider changing his life for a woman.

No, gullible was the wrong word, because it implied Abby was somehow at fault. She’d never vacillated from the position she’d laid out when he first met her. He was the one who’d changed. He was the one who was simpleminded enough to think all could be changed for love. Stupid to make the same mistake twice. What made him think he knew what love was this time? Maybe his epiphany was nothing more than the natural feeling of inadequacy a father experienced when he couldn’t comfort his daughter and his thankfulness to a woman who could.

“I appreciate what you’ve done, but I don’t want you to think it’s your duty.”

“I don’t,” Abby said, looking a little surprised. “I’m very fond of Pamela. I had earaches myself. I know how much they hurt.”

“She seems to be sleeping peacefully now.”

“You ought to lie down,” Abby said. “You have a full day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay.”

“Then you’d better settle down and stop talking. We’re liable to wake her.”

Bryce settled down next to his daughter, his arm around her, his fingertips touching Abby. That seemed like a metaphor for their relationship. Nothing more substantial, nothing more enduring.

Yet something within him had changed. After tonight he could never view Abby or himself in the same light again. He was certain his life would never be complete without her.

“You could stay with Pamela again tonight if you want,” Moriah said to Abby as they got ready for bed. “Now that Colonel McGregor has a guard on duty, I don’t mind sleeping here by myself.”

It annoyed Abby that Moriah continued to refer to Bryce by his title. She’d done her best to make her sister understand their relationship was purely friendship. As for Pamela, no woman could ignore a sick child calling her name. Neither meant Abby wasn’t capable of controlling any foolish tendency to become romantically interested in her father.

“She’s much better today. Practically well, in fact.” Abby had come back to the trading post after breakfast, but she’d checked on Pamela three times during the day, the last time after supper.

“Her father ought to get married. That child needs a mother.”

“He plans to do so as soon as he gets back East. With his looks and family connections, I’m sure it won’t take long.”

“What happens if he doesn’t get posted back East?” Moriah asked. “Dorrie says promotions are practically impossible to get since the end of the war.”

“Bryce’s family is wealthy. They have important connections.”

“This young colonel we’ve been hearing so much about, George Custer, is a personal favorite of General Sheridan, but he’s stationed in the Dakotas.”

“From what I’ve heard Bryce say, he’s a bad officer and ought to be relieved of his command. Maybe they’ve sent him to the Dakotas to get him out of the way.”

“Custer’s not the issue. The promotion is. Dorrie says no one is getting them.”

“Fortunately we don’t have to worry about that.”

“I think we do,” Moriah said, looking directly at her sister. “If he doesn’t leave soon, you’re going to fall hopelessly in love with him.”

It was useless to deny what Abby knew to be the truth, but there was no point in letting Moriah know it was already too late. “It wouldn’t matter if I did fall in love with Bryce. I’m not what he’s looking for in a wife.”

“I’m not interested in him. It’s you I’m worried about. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Bryce can’t hurt me unless I let him. I’m not going to talk about him anymore. I’m so sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

“You should have taken a nap.”

“I left you alone too much as it was. Don’t fret I’ll be fine as soon as I get a good night’s sleep. Start thinking about when you want some time off.”