A Love All Her Own

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Authors: Janet Lee Barton

BOOK: A Love All Her Own
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Copyright

ISBN 978-1-60260-439-1

Copyright © 2009 by Janet Lee Barton. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

One

Eureka Springs, Arkansas,

July 20, 1886

Abigail Connors sniffed and threw off her covers. She was through with this crying. It wasn’t going to change a thing. She’d done enough of that over the past week and a half—ever since her world had collapsed around her. Much as she wanted to pretend it was all a nightmare, there was no denying it. She’d lost the man she’d loved for years and the love of the niece she adored—all in one afternoon. And she had no one to blame but herself.

Fresh tears threatened, even when she thought she couldn’t possibly have any left, but she swiped at her eyes and held her weeping at bay. It wasn’t going to do her any good, and she couldn’t stay in bed forever. As it was, enough talk about her was probably circulating around town, now that her wedding had been called off. She pulled on her wrapper and yanked the cord to summon her parents’ housekeeper.

In minutes, Laura appeared. “Miss Abigail, I’m so glad to see you up and about! Would you like some breakfast?” It was obvious that the woman had been worried about her. During those first few days when Abigail couldn’t have cared less if she ever ate again, everyone in the house had practically begged her to eat. Laura had prepared all her favorites to no avail. But the woman looked so hopeful this morning that Abigail couldn’t disappoint her.

“Perhaps after I’ve had a bath, Laura. Please prepare that for me now, and then you can make me some tea and toast.”

The housekeeper set about doing as asked at once. By the time Abigail was finished bathing and was trying to decide what she needed to do next, Laura arrived with a tray laden with tea, toast, and an egg cooked just the way Abigail liked it. For the first time in days, Abigail felt hungry. “Thank you, Laura. I think I’ll be going home today, so if you would just see that my things get home, I would appreciate it.”

Laura didn’t say anything, but Abigail had a feeling the housekeeper didn’t approve and would go running to her mother with the news. Nevertheless, it was time. She had to make plans. She could not stay in Eureka Springs and watch Nate Brooks start a new life with Meagan Snow. She couldn’t stay and see the disgust in her niece Natalie’s eyes when the little girl looked at her. Nor could she stay and be laughed at behind her back. She could not, would not do it. Going anywhere would be better.

Abigail ate her breakfast and was on her second cup of tea when her mother’s light knock sounded on the door. “Come in, Mama.”

“Abigail, dear, what’s this Laura tells me about you going home?” her mother asked, gracefully sweeping into the room. She looked lovely as always, dressed in a green-and-white-striped morning dress, with not a hair out of place. “I’m not sure you are ready to—”

“It’s time, Mama. I can’t stay with you and Papa forever, and I can’t stay in Eureka Springs, either. Not with the. . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t even want to think about Nate’s upcoming marriage to Meagan Snow.

“But dear, you don’t want to make a hasty decision. Give yourself time—”

“Mama, please. I just can’t stay here. Don’t you see?” Her parents had been so very kind and patient with her the last few days, even after she’d admitted what an awful person she was. They had assured her of their love and insisted she stay with them until she felt she could cope with her heartache, but she knew she’d disappointed them. Abigail felt she had to get away, but she wasn’t quite sure where to go. “Mama, I must get out of Eureka Springs.”

“Why don’t you get dressed and then come down to your papa’s study? We can talk to him about it. He’ll know what to do.”

“Mama, he’s not going to want me going anywhere. I—”

“Abigail, dear, your father and I have your best interests at heart. You know that. We will hear you out, and then together, we’ll all decide what is best.”

Abigail sighed. There was no way around it. She was going to have to discuss this with her father. She needed a plan, and she needed it quickly.


Abigail dressed in a pale blue morning dress, and Laura dressed her hair for her, arranging it on top of her head as was in fashion. Before leaving the room, Abigail pinched her cheeks to give them a little color, knowing her papa would try to find a reason to keep her under his care a little longer. Taking a deep breath, she opened the bedroom door and went down to his study.

Her father was sitting at his desk, writing, while her mother was looking out the front window, a cup of tea in her hand. “I just don’t know, Jacob,” her mother said but cut her sentence off when she noticed Abigail enter the room.

“Don’t know what, Mama?” Abigail mustered a smile. “What to do with me?”

Her father rewarded her with a chuckle. “That would probably sum it up nicely, dear. You have presented us a challenge from time to time.”

Abigail went over and kissed the top of her father’s head. “Yes, I know. Mama has been telling you that I think it’s time to leave, hasn’t she?”

“She has. I don’t think it is a good idea.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, Papa. But I must find a way to. . .get on with my life.” Abigail heard the wobble in her voice and hoped her parents didn’t notice it.

Her mother poured a cup of tea and handed it to her. “Here dear. We’ll figure out something.”

“Thank you, Mama.” Abigail took a sip and continued. ‘‘I’d like to get away for a while.”

“Away? You aren’t just talking about going back to your house, are you?”

“No, Papa. I—I want to get out of Eureka Springs for a while.”
Maybe for the rest of my life,
Abigail thought. But she didn’t voice the wish.

“Georgette dear, I’d like a cup of that tea, please.” Abigail’s father waited until he’d taken a sip from the cup her mother handed him. “Where are you thinking you’d like to go?”

She took a deep breath. “Europe.”

Her father almost choked on the warm liquid he’d swallowed. “Europe!” He stood up and began to pace the room. “Abigail, Europe is much too far away. What if something happened and you needed us?”

“Papa, I’m sure I’d be all right.” But the thought did give her pause. Much as she thought of herself as independent, Abigail had never really been away from home without her parents.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea at all. Please dear, just give things time.”

“Oh Papa, I don’t think I can stand staying in the same town where everyone knows me—and knows that my engagement has been broken
and
that Nate will be marrying Meagan Snow very soon. Everyone I know will be laughing and talking behind my back.” Abigail could feel the tears and knew she couldn’t hold them at bay much longer. “I can’t stay knowing that my Natalie doesn’t want anything to do with me—” Her voice broke on a sob. “I just can’t do that. I need a change. I have to get away, Papa. I just have to.”

Jacob Connors gathered her in his arms and rocked her back and forth. “Oh, my Abby. Just let me think on it a little while. I believe I can come up with something closer than half a continent and an ocean away. Don’t go home just yet. Have dinner with us, and I’ll try to have an answer for you by then.”

Abigail sighed in relief. Her father was going to help her. She was going to be able to get away from all the hurt and humiliation. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered.


Marcus Wellington stopped by Western Union as he did first thing every morning, noon, and afternoon. In his business, he was liable to get several telegrams a day. The telegrapher handed him two new ones.

“This one from Mr. Connors in Eureka Springs just came in a few minutes ago, Marcus,” Harold Dillard said.

“Thank you, Harold.” Marcus took the telegrams and moved over to the end of the counter to read them. He tore into Mr. Connors’s first. He hadn’t heard from the man in several months, but whatever he needed, Marcus would get to first. He read:

Marcus, need your help. Daughter is coming to Hot Springs soon. Need you to have protection for her. Can you take care of it for me?

Marcus waited until the customer Harold was helping left. “I need to reply to this one right away, Harold.”

The clerk gave him a pad and pencil, and Marcus wrote:
Jacob. Will be glad to. Let me know the details. Marcus
.
He handed it to Harold. “This needs to go out right away.”

“I can do that, Marcus.” Harold read it over and began transmitting.

“I’ll wait a few minutes—just to make sure he’s not on the other end waiting for my reply—to send another,” Marcus said, walking over to look out the window. He couldn’t help but wonder why Jacob’s daughter would be coming to Hot Springs by herself, but it didn’t matter. The man had asked him a favor, and there was no way he’d turn him down. If it hadn’t been for Jacob Connors, the Wellington Agency wouldn’t exist. Marcus had just about exhausted his resources two years ago when he’d finally approached his father’s good friend and banker, Jacob Connors. He wasn’t sure if that was the only reason the man had lent him the money to start his detective/protective agency, but they both had reason to be glad he did. Many people had thought that his business would fail within a month or two, but they’d been wrong. The Wellington Agency would never compete with the Pinkerton Agency, and that was fine with Marcus. He had no desire to be that big. Still, his business was doing so well he was making plans to open offices all across the state, and he owed it all to Jacob Connors.

The telegraph machine started working, alerting Marcus that a message was coming in. Harold was writing out the code. “You were right. He must have been waiting for you.” Harold handed Marcus the paper:

Thank you. Will be sending details in the next day or so.

Marcus sent a reply saying,
Message received. Will be looking for next one
.
There was nothing else to do until he knew when Jacob’s daughter would be arriving. He’d check his schedule and think about whom he could trust to watch over Miss Connors. He folded the message and headed for the door. “See you later, Harold.”


When Abigail joined her parents for dinner, she couldn’t tell if her father had come up with a plan or not, but she knew he would let her know in his own way and his own time. She just hoped it would be before she lost what appetite she had for the meal she knew Laura had prepared with her tastes in mind. It was the first time since she’d been staying with her parents that she had joined them for dinner, and the housekeeper had made her favorites, from baked ham to scalloped potatoes and rolls.

Her father seated her mother and took his place at the head of the table. Then he looked at Abigail. “I think I have a plan. But let’s ask a blessing for our food first, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abigail bowed her head while her father gave the blessing.

“Dear Lord, we thank You for this day. We thank You that our Abby is joining us for dinner tonight. Father, we ask that the plans we draw up for her are in Your will. And we ask You to bless this food we are about to eat. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

As her mother began to dish up the meal, her father laid out the plan he’d come up with.

“For some time now, I’ve been thinking about investing in a bathhouse in Hot Springs. I believe the town could support another one, but I want it to be very nice.”

‘‘But Jacob, what does that have to do with Abigail?” his wife asked, handing him his plate.

“Well, I don’t know who I’d trust more to investigate the bathhouses already in business than my daughter. Abigail wants to get away. I don’t think it really matters where, does it, daughter?”

Abigail shrugged. “Not particularly. I’ve heard that Hot Springs is a very nice place to visit. I’m not sure it’s far enough away, though. Some of my friends are the ones who told me about it.”

‘‘Dear, I know you wish to get away.” Her mother handed Abigail a filled plate. “But I would rest so much better if I knew you were in the state. I would worry so if you were to travel abroad.”

“Well, I suppose I could check out the bathhouses for Papa. If I hate it there, I’m sure I can go somewhere else.”

“I think you’ll like it fine,” her father said. “There is even more to do there than in Eureka Springs. And we have friends who you could go to if you needed anything. Your mother and I have known the Wellingtons for a long time. They will show you around and help you get acquainted quickly.”

Abigail wanted to protest, but deep down, she had to admit that she’d feel more comfortable if she knew some people in the area whom she could turn to if needed. It appeared that her parents understood her need to get out of town. That alone had her appetite coming back, and Abigail found she was actually very hungry.

“That will be nice. The Wellingtons. I’ll look for them,” Abigail said before taking a bite of ham.

“You won’t have to. Their son will be meeting your train,” her father said. “He owns the Wellington Agency. It’s a detective/protective agency, and I’ve asked him to watch over you while you are there.”

Abigail almost choked on the ham she’d just swallowed. “Papa, I don’t need someone to watch every move I make!”

“Abigail, dear. You are my daughter, and you stand to have a sizable inheritance one day. I don’t want anything happening to you,” her father said quietly.

“But—”

“Abigail, Marcus Wellington is going to make sure you are safe. That is all. More than likely, you won’t even know who it is he has watching you at any given time. His agency is growing and getting good reports from all over the country. Your mother and I know his family, and I know him to be an honorable man.”

“But, Papa—”

“Abigail. It really isn’t going to matter whether you are here in the States or in Europe. Be assured I will hire someone to watch over you no matter where you go. And you are going to have someone to turn to if you need them—whether you like it or not.”

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