Page 44 of More than Words Can Say

“Focus on Rosalind for now.”

He gave a sharp nod, then reached out to squeeze Abigail’s shoulder. “I’ll be watching out for her,” he vowed.

Abigail nodded. Then, needing more than words to calm the worry exploding in her heart, she pressed her cheek to his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. He embraced her in turn, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

Oh, Rosie. Have I been so busy taking care of the bakery that I’ve failed to take care of you?

CHAPTER

22

Abigail pointed to a patriotic display behind the clerk’s head. “I’ll take ten yards of bunting, a spool of paper festooning, and a dozen of your small muslin stick flags.”

The clerk glanced behind him, then turned back. “Those are actually our medium-sized flags. Three and a half by six. They’re only two cents more per dozen than the tiny two-by-three-inch ones.”

“All right, let’s do the medium size.” She’d give the decorations away to local children after she closed her shop on the Fourth, and they’d have much more fun waving the larger size around.

Wilkins, Wood & Patteson Dry Goods had to be the most festive store on the square. Red-white-and-blue displays filled the windows and shelves. They carried the largest selection of dress goods all year round, but in July, they were the exclusive purveyor of the bunting officially approved by the Honey Grove City Council. Every business on the square had to purchase the same bunting to present a uniform appearance, but Abigail was just now getting around to purchasing her required length. Thankfully, Rosalind had volunteered to deliver the widow bread this afternoon, which freed Abby to take care of this errand. Though, in truth, if she and Zach hadn’t discussed their plans for July Fourth this morning, she’d probably still be procrastinating.

Decorating was not her forte. She could braid a beautiful loaf and ice the perfect cinnamon bun, but drape bunting and hang streamers? She didn’t possess the patience nor the talent for such an undertaking. Thank heaven for Rosie. Her sister would have the bunting gathered and swathed in the time it would take Abigail to add a single length of paper festooning to the three shelves of her display case. Rosie was a marvel.

The clerk folded the cloth he’d finished cutting, counted out her flag sticks, and removed a spool of festooning from the display behind him and plunked it onto the counter next to the rest of her order. “Anything else today, Mrs. Hamilton?”

A handsome ewer and basin set in a display at the end of the long counter caught her eye. Several different razors and shaving soaps were artfully arranged atop draped toweling around the masculine basin. The ewer matched its counterpart, both solid white with a smooth finish and a single stripe of midnight blue around the rim. The blue reminded her of Zach’s eyes.

She’d noticed his plain white shaving mug on the washstand in his room when she went in to dust and clean the rugs. Her mother had selected the floral set she’d shared with Abigail’s father, and after she died, Papa hadn’t had the heart to replace it. But that didn’t mean Zach should be forced to face such femininity every time he washed. Now that she thought about it, she was amazed her burly husband had not banished the entire set at once.

“How much for that ewer and basin set?” Abigail nodded at the display of red razor boxes stacked around the white-and-blue porcelain. Even their ordinary goods had been made to look patriotic.

The clerk smiled, obviously eager to make another sale. “Three and a quarter for the entire ten-piece chamber set.”

“Oh, I don’t need the entire set.” She blushed at the thought of buying her husband a chamber pot. They might be growing closer, but they weren’t that close. Not yet. “Just the ewer and basin, please.”

The clerk’s smile dimmed just a bit. “The two pieces alone will run you two dollars, ten.”

She raised a brow at the price. That was two-thirds the overall cost for only two-tenths the pieces.

“My manager doesn’t like to break up sets,” the clerk explained with an apologetic shrug. “And those are two of the largest pieces of the set. You sure you don’t want all ten for only a dollar fifteen more? It really is the better bargain.”

Abigail shook her head. Paying more for something she didn’t need did not constitute a bargain. Not for a woman on a budget. “No, thank you. I’ll just take the two pieces we discussed.”

“Very good, ma’am. I’ll fetch some from our inventory in the storeroom so I don’t break up the display. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

She smiled, thankful he wasn’t the type to press her for a larger sale against her wishes. But the instant he disappeared from behind the counter, a woman pounced like a lioness waiting for a weakened gazelle to separate itself from the herd.

“Abigail! Oh, you poor dear. I just heard.” Sophia Longfellow snatched up Abby’s hand, her voice carrying in a loud stage whisper.

Abigail snatched her hand back. “Stop, Sophia. Just stop.” Whatever she was about to say, Abby didn’t want to hear it.

Sophia reared back, eyes wide at Abby’s blunt statement. She blinked once, then recovered her poise, a tiny pout slipping into place, as if she were the wronged party. “Stop what, Abigail? Being a concerned friend?”

Abby sighed and shook her head. “You stopped being my friend a long time ago.” Her heart ached as she forced herself to accept that sad truth. This perfectly coifed, fashionably dressed woman before her was not the Sophie of Abigail’s childhood. The one who’d been her partner in adventure, who’d run around in pigtails, muddy boots, and torn hems—that girl no longer existed. “For years I hoped we could mend our fences and at least get to a place of cordiality if not friendship,” Abigail admitted, “but you’ve made it clear that is not an option.”

“I’ve made it clear? I’ve done nothing but look out for your interests.”

Abigail held her chin up, determined not to be cowed. Guilt would not blind her this time. She wouldn’t scurry away to wallow in her insecurities again. She knew the truth, and it was past time to give it voice. She met Sophia’s gaze straight on. “You tried to destroy my marriage. How is that in my best interest?”

Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “I did no such thing. I’ve only tried to protect you from that philandering man you call husband. Just today he was seen out behind the church with his arms around your sister! That’s twice in as many days. The man has no shame!”