Page 65 of A Rugged Beauty
You can pretend to be happy.
Hollis's words from last night wouldn't stop ringing in Abigail's ears.
Morning had dawned, but her husband hadn't come to the fire searching for his breakfast. Or anything else. She must have driven him away with her impertinent questions.
What a fool she'd been to think that his openness when he'd spoken of his wife meant that he welcomed her questions and opinions. He'd told her straight from the beginning that this wasn't any kind of real relationship, hadn't he?
She put down the spoon she'd been using to flip a slice of ham browning in the frying pan, only to realize she'd misjudged and the spoon fell to the ground with a thud.
Frowning, she picked it up and set it aside. Another dish to wash.
She hadn't slept well after Hollis left the campfire last night. She'd lain awake for what felt like forever, waiting for him to return. He never had. At some point, she'd drifted off only to dream of murky water pulling her under the surface. Hollis's words ringing in her ears. And then a glimpse of a tall, stately woman—faceless—standing with Hollis before a preacher.
It was that image that had woken her with a gasp. Hollis and his wife, the way Abigail had imagined her.
"Mrs. Fordham said she'd appreciate some more of your broth."
Abigail lifted her head, only then noticing that Felicity had approached.
The camp was bustling around them, everyone preparing for the bugle's call and the orders to roll out.
Mrs. Allen waved to Abigail from her wagon nearby, a reminder that her social standing had improved after the announcement of their marriage. Folks had come to her yesterday to offer their congratulations and to ask how she was faring.
Abigail blinked and pulled herself back into the conversation. Felicity watched her expectantly.
"Of course." She moved to the wagon where she'd left the clean bowls that morning to dry. The broth was on the coals to keep warm. She'd reheated the leftovers of what she'd made last night.
"I don't suppose August would shoot me another grouse? Or turkey? Or quail?" She'd seen Mrs. Ward by the riverbank this morning when she’d gone for water. The woman had been performing the same chore, but looked pale. Abigail could only hope that whatever illness was plaguing their camp wouldn't spread.
Best to be prepared. Mam had taught her that.
"I'll ask." Felicity took the bowl with its fragrant, steaming liquid. "Are you all right?"
"Of course." Abigail smiled at her friend, the words coming naturally. Until Hollis's voice echoed in her mind again.You can pretend to be happy.
Felicity’s expression turned thoughtful as she glanced toward Ben, who was playing with young Sara, Leo and Evangeline'slittle girl. Felicity had enough to worry about. Abigail's troubles were her own. Talking about them wouldn’t solve anything.
Felicity sidled closer. "I've counted you as a dear friend from the moment we set out on this journey."
Abigail's brows pinched.
"I know that your marriage to Hollis isn't real," Felicity whispered.
A prick of awareness skittered up Abigail’s spine. She couldn't help a quick glance around. No one seemed to be paying them any attention.
"Of course it's real." A moment of their vows clicked into the front of her mind.
"I don't see how it could be," Felicity whispered. "One moment you aren’t married and then you are?" Her expression grew serious. "Hollis is a hard man."
Abigail frowned. " Only because life has treated him so poorly."
He'd lost his cousin, his wife and baby. If anyone had a reason to keep people at a distance, it was him.
"He has bossed you since the first day of our journey," Felicity reminded her. "Along with everyone else."
"My brother tasked him with watching out for me," Abigail reminded her.
"Yes, but he's?—"
