Page 38 of More than Words Can Say

Yet as she ran home, her thoughts kept turning down that road again and again. What had Rosalind and Zach been doing for twenty minutes in that stable?

She tried to silence the suspicious whispers, truly she did. She set about making dinner, ordering her mind to attend only to the task in front of her. But as she chopped the sausages Rosalind had purchased at the butcher’s shop and dropped them into the pan to sauté with some potato and onion, the whispers grew too loud to ignore. So when her sister came into the kitchen to retrieve a crock of butter, Abigail seized the opportunity.

“I heard you ran into Zach today while you were running errands.”

Rosalind’s head jerked up, but her gaze darted away. In guilt? “Yes, I, uh, ran into a bit of a–a situation . . . and Zach helped me out.” She shrugged. “Nothing of consequence.”

Nothing of consequence? Nothing of consequence had her cuddling up to Abigail’s husband in the broad light of day and disappearing into a stable for twenty minutes?

“What kind of situation?” Abigail struggled to keep her voice light and her tone merely curious, even as her grip on the spoon handle tightened until pain radiated up her arm.

Butter crock in hand, Rosalind traipsed back toward the stairwell, obviously eager to make her escape. “Oh, there was just some stranger in town who got a little too friendly toward me. Zach happened to witness the scene and stepped in to scare the fellow off. No harm done. I promise.” She backed into the stairwell. “Nothing to concern you.”

Rosalind smiled, spun around, and flew up the stairs. Too bad that smile was the same one she always used when trying to talk her way out of trouble.

Abigail’s heart throbbed. The spoon loosened in her grasp and knocked against the side of the skillet, splattering grease onto her hand. With a hiss, she yanked her hand away from the pan and rubbed it against the front of her apron. Rosalind was hiding something from her.

Abigail said little through dinner, opting to watch her companions instead. The guilty little glances Rosie shot at Zach when she thought Abigail wouldn’t notice. The pointed looks he jabbed back. Not exactly lover-like, but they hinted at something between them. A shared secret.

Something about stables, no doubt.

Abigail lurched to her feet. Rosie exuded a small gasp at her abrupt movement. Zach halted his fork halfway to his mouth and raised a brow. Abby could feel the heat of their eyes on her, but she didn’t care. She needed to get away. Now.

“I’m not feeling well,” she said, her untouched plate adding credence to her statement. “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s not even seven yet,” Rosie protested.

“I know, I’m just . . . tired.”

Tired of pretending nothing was wrong. Tired of being on the wrong end of family secrets. Tired of not being the woman men preferred.

Leaving her dishes on the table, she fled the room, only to be stopped by a warm hand on her arm just outside her bedroom.

“Abby?” he said, his voice rich, rumbly, and setting off newfound flutters in her belly when he had absolutely no right to have that kind of effect on her. Not when he was keeping secrets from her. “Are you all right?”

No, she wasn’t all right. Two hours ago she was seriously considering sending Rosalind to visit Lydia and inviting herself into her husband’s bed. Now she couldn’t even manage to look him in the eyes.

He must have noticed, for he cupped her chin with his hand and drew her face around. “Abby?”

Her lashes shuttered her gaze from him. “Please, Zach, I just want to go to sleep.”

“All right.”

But he didn’t release her. Instead his free hand came up to cup the other side of her face. He lifted her toward him. His breath fanned across her cheek.

No. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend their courtship was real.

Just as Zach’s lips lowered to hers, she twisted her face away.

CHAPTER

20

When Zach’s lips skittered off the edge of Abigail’s jaw, hurt hit him square in the chest. Followed by confusion. Then a spark of anger.

Straightening, his hands fell away from her face. “You’re upset.”

She offered no comment, just spun around and made for the doorway.