The Surrogate Wife

“Do you think we should tell her?” Will asked as the door closed.

“No use worrying Meagan over something she can’t do anything about. Ruth hates her, and that’s a fact. And I don’t think anyone but Ruth knows why.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can find out,” Will promised as he followed Josh back to the house where the scent of fragrant stew permeated the air.

Abbie Daniels proved to be a very precocious little girl, with a sharp mind and insatiable curiosity. However, she could not be described as a beautiful child.

Meagan liked children, and Abbie was no exception. But to say that the child’s appearance came as somewhat of a shock would be an understatement.

Having lived in close proximity with Josh Daniels for the better part of the summer, Meagan recognized the fact that he would be considered a handsome man. His features were strong and even. Nothing about him seemed out of proportion.

Meagan was the first to admit that she had not seen Lily Daniels at her best; still, Lily had been a woman who, even in death, had held exceptional beauty. So Meagan was prepared to welcome an attractive child.

To her amazement, the little girl was small for her age, with a pensive, intelligent face. Otherwise her features were unexceptional. Her hair was pulled back so tightly her eyebrows looked to be permanently raised above her blue-gray eyes. But it wasn’t until the child removed her bonnet that Meagan realized she was indeed faced with a challenge.

The afternoon was warm and while Josh and Will talked on the dogtrot, Meagan, Abbie and Will’s wife, Phoebe, went into the house.

Meagan was happy to see the woman who had given her shelter during the time before and during her trial. Phoebe had been a bulwark against adversity and despair, and Meagan was pleased that she had come to help break the ice with Josh’s daughter.

“Are you the new hired girl?” Abbie asked bluntly.

“You could call me that.” Meagan caught Phoebe’s eye and gave a sigh of relief. Obviously the child hadn’t been apprised of Meagan’s true situation. “Actually I am going to be helping you with your lessons as well as helping your father with his work.”

“That’s good.” The child nodded. “Papa needs help sometimes and I’m too small.” She poked around the room as Meagan prepared tea. She peered, prodded and finally decided that there had been no major changes of which she didn’t approve.

Phoebe was telling Meagan about the trip she and Will had taken to Albany when Abbie settled herself at the table.

“Would you like some tea?” Meagan asked as the little girl looked at her expectantly.

“I’d rather have buttermilk,” Abbie told her.

“There’s some in the ice house,” Meagan replied. “Can you carry the pitcher by yourself?”

“Of course,” Abbie said importantly as she dashed out of the room.

Meagan watched the child from the window, making certain she was able to manipulate the heavy door that Josh had built to keep in the cold. A few minutes later, Abbie returned. She placed the pitcher on the table and brushed the perspiration from her forehead.

“It’s warm today, isn’t it?” Meagan remarked as she poured the thick liquid into a cup. “Why don’t you take off your bonnet? There’s no need to wear it in the house.”

Phoebe uttered a gasp of protest, or perhaps it was a warning. Regardless, it came too late, for the child pulled the ribbons of her heavy cotton bonnet, jerked it from her head and handed it to Meagan. Then Abbie lifted the cup of buttermilk to her mouth, closed her eyes and began to drink.

Meagan’s hand went to her lips as she saw the reason why the child wore the heavy bonnet, for Abbie’s ears stuck out on either side of her head like two foreign appendages.

Before the child finished her drink, Meagan turned away, denying the child any glimpse of her face.

“Why don’t you go and see if your father wants some buttermilk?” Meagan suggested.

Abbie wiped her mouth on her forearm and ran out the door. Meagan turned to Phoebe.

“Why didn’t someone tell me?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, Meagan,” Phoebe apologized. “I just assumed that Josh would tell you about Abbie’s…ears. It didn’t occur to me that you didn’t know until you told her to remove her bonnet.”

“Does she wear a bonnet all the time?” Meagan asked, her heart going out to the little girl.

“I’ve seldom seen her without one.” Phoebe fiddled with her teacup. “Lily thought it was a hopeless case. The only thing the doctors could suggest was to keep tight-fitting bonnets on Abbie’s head and hope her ears would somehow benefit from the pressure.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it helped a bit, but Josh has always insisted she wear them.”

Before Phoebe could continue, Josh appeared at the door. “Come along, honey,” he urged, “I’ll help you get your bonnet back on.” He gave Meagan a wilting look. “Abbie always wears her bonnets, Meagan,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Day and night.”

“I understand,” Meagan said quietly. She wanted to shout at him that he hadn’t told her and she had no way of knowing about his daughter’s “affliction.” Then she saw the anguish in his eyes and held her peace.

Josh tied the ribbon under his daughter’s chin. “There! Now you look like Abbie again.” He grinned and tweaked her nose before his smoldering gaze fell again on Meagan.

“Abbie again…Abbie again…” The little girl danced about the room, basking in her father’s approval. She stopped in front of Meagan. “I have lots of bonnets,” she told her. “I’ll show them to you if you like.”

“I’d like that very much.” Meagan smiled, aware that the child had made the first gesture of acceptance. She looked at Phoebe, expecting approval, but there was only a little worried frown that creased Phoebe’s forehead.

It was obvious to Phoebe that Josh Daniels could not keep his eyes off his indentured servant, just as it was obvious that Meagan was unaware of the explosiveness of the problem.

The Carmichaels spent the night, using the trundle on the daybed. The morning mist had not yet faded when they made their farewells.

“If you need us, let us know,” Phoebe said as she impulsively embraced Meagan. “We’ll find some way to come to you.”

And before Meagan could ask what she meant, the woman allowed her husband to help her into their buggy. As they were leaving, Meagan stared after them, wondering what had prompted the woman’s words.

It wasn’t long before Abbie had reestablished her place in her own home and Meagan found herself hardpressed to keep up with the little girl.

“My mama never made me tell her where I was going,” she protested as Meagan brought her in from an impromptu trip to the barn.

“Abbie, you need to tell someone. Your father worries when he comes in and doesn’t know where you are. He is working the fields all alone right now, and if you refuse to tell me where you are going, I am going to go back into the fields to help him and you’ll have to come along, whether you want to or not.”

“Well, I don’t want to go with you,” Abbie protested. “And I don’t want to tell you where I go. My mama never made me do anything like that.”

“Your mama never made you do anything you didn’t want to do.” Josh’s voice boomed. “But your mama isn’t here. Meagan and I are. And you’re gonna tell one of us where you’re going, or you are not going to go.”

Abbie put her hands on her hips, a vision of indignation, but there was no submission in her father’s face. He wasn’t going to change his mind no matter what she tried. Abbie surrendered to authority. “I’ll tell you or Meagan, but then I’m going to go where I like,” she asserted.

“Only if you have permission,” her father reminded her.

The little girl turned on her heel and marched out the door. She hadn’t left the porch when her father called after her, “Abbie! Where are you going?”

“I’m going back to the barn.”

“Do you have permission?”

She stopped.

“You know where I want to go,” she fired defiantly.

“And you know you’re supposed to ask for permission,” he said again.

“My mama never had to answer to anybody when she wanted to go somewhere,” Abbie shouted at her father.

Angered at the defiance in his daughter, Josh spoke rashly. “Maybe if she had she wouldn’t be dead now.”

His words brought a simultaneous gasp from the lips of both his daughter and Meagan. Before he had a chance to utter another sound, Abbie ran back through the door of the house and burrowed herself into her bed behind the curtain.

Josh did not try to talk to her. He looked at Meagan and shrugged before returning to the fields. It was Meagan who went to the child.

“I guess you pretty much had the run of the place when your mama was alive,” Meagan remarked as she took her place on the side of the bed.

“Mama knew I wouldn’t get into any trouble.” Abbie sniffled into her pillow.

“Your father knows you aren’t going to get into any trouble,” Meagan told her. “It’s just that he wants to know where you are. I don’t think he really knew how much freedom your mother was giving you around here. I tell him where I’m going so he won’t worry, and he does the same for me.”

The little girl lifted her head and looked at the young woman. “Is that because you love him?” she asked.

Meagan was taken aback. Loving Josh Daniels was the last thing in the world she would ever dare admit to, even if it was true, which of course it was not. It would be foolhardy to love someone who could never love you back.

“That’s because it’s the best way to do things when people live out here,” she said. “What if there was a fire, or an Indian attack, and your father didn’t have any idea where you were?”

“He never knew where my mama went, or what she was doing, and nothing bad ever happened.” Abbie sat up and crossed her arms over her chest.

Meagan stood up, her back toward the girl as she straightened some of the articles on the chest of drawers. “Well, that’s not quite the way I’d look at it.”

Realizing her mistake, Abbie was about to try to retract her words, but the look on Meagan’s face told her she wouldn’t get away with it.

“All right.” Abbie scuffed her foot under the rag rug beside the bed, “I’ll tell you or Papa where I’m going. But I’m not going to like it.”

“Abbie, life is just full of things we don’t like,” Meagan told her. “It’s all part of growing up.”

Abbie jumped off the bed and looked down her body at the distance to her feet. “Do you think I’m growing up?” she asked.

“I think you’re growing up faster than you know,” Meagan told her.

“My grandma called me her baby all the time,” Abbie admitted. “It didn’t make me feel grown-up.”

“I think grandmas are allowed to say things like that because they are so much older than everybody else,” Meagan confided. “I guess everyone seems like a baby to them.”

Abbie’s face brightened. “I guess I can be Grandma’s baby as long as I can be grown-up here at home.” She gave an assertive nod as she threw back the curtains and headed once more for the door.

“Abbie,” Meagan called out, “just remember, you have to earn the right to be treated like an adult, and the first thing you must remember to do is—”

“Tell you where I’m going.” Abbie finished the sentence for her and sighed a deep sigh. “I’m going to the barn to look for baby kittens. The cat has babies every spring and fall.” The little girl stopped, a new thought springing to her mind. “Do you know where they are?”

Meagan wiped her hands on her apron. “As a matter of fact, I do. There are five and they’re about a month old. If you like, we can bring one into the house and keep it for your very own.”

Abbie flew across the floor and grabbed Meagan’s hand. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go now! Why didn’t you tell me you knew there were kittens? If you had, we wouldn’t have had all this trouble.”

Meagan stifled a laugh. “Why didn’t you tell me kittens were what you were looking for?”

“I thought if I told you, you wouldn’t let me go. My mama always said kittens were dirty, sneaky little things and she didn’t want me to play with them. One time when I showed her where they were she took the kittens out of the barn and put them in a bucket of water.”

Meagan knew drowning kittens was a common practice, but she couldn’t help but give a little gasp of disapproval. “What did you do?” she asked, wondering if the child had cried over the loss of her treasures.

Abbie swung Meagan’s hand as they crossed the yard. “I waited until Mama had gone into the house to lie down and then I ran back and took them out of the water and laid them in the sun. As soon as they dried out, all but one of them came back to life. Mama never even noticed and Papa never knew.”

“Well, I don’t think we should trouble your father about it now,” Meagan said, and the little girl cast her a look encompassing friendship and trust that, given a chance, could last a lifetime.

Chapter Four

Much to Abbie’s disappointment the kittens proved to be too young to leave their mother, but the child was allowed to visit them often. She was returning from one of her little sojourns to the haymow when Ruth Somers stopped her.

“What are you doing out here alone?” the woman demanded. “Isn’t anyone around to take care of you?”

“I was up in the haymow playing with my kitten,” the little girl told her.

“Why wasn’t someone with you?” Ruth demanded.

Abbie backed away, anxious to be free of the woman’s persistent questioning. “Usually Meagan comes with me, but she’s churning right now.”

“Nonetheless, you shouldn’t go wandering about alone,” Ruth declared, not considering that her children ran wild from dawn to dusk, never answering to anyone for their whereabouts as long as they showed up at mealtime.

“I’ll have to speak to your father about this,” Ruth said. “Now run along and play.”

And Abbie was more than happy to do so as she turned and hurried toward the house.

Meagan was rinsing the wooden churn when Abbie came running toward her.

“How are the kittens?” Meagan asked the breathless girl.

“They’re fine, and Aunt Ruthie is here,” Abbie gasped.

Meagan straightened up and glanced toward the front of the house. A wagon stood at the hitching rail and the horse looked longingly toward the grass a short distance away. Ruth was nowhere in sight.

“Did Mrs. Somers go into the house?” Meagan asked as she wiped her hands on her apron and gathered up the bowl of butter and the pitcher of buttermilk.

“She said she was going to talk to Papa,” Abbie volunteered as she trailed behind Meagan toward the house.

“She’ll have a time finding him,” Meagan observed with some private satisfaction. “He’s gone down to check the animal pens by the creek.”

Abbie’s saucy smile told Meagan that the little girl didn’t like Ruth much more than Meagan did.

In all truth, Meagan was nervous over Ruth’s persistent visits. There was always the chance that the woman would tell Abbie the real reason Meagan was working for the Danielses, and Meagan could not bear to see the friendship and trust in the little girl’s eyes replaced by fear and loathing.

Meagan hadn’t had time to store the milk and butter when she saw Josh and Ruth coming toward the house.

Abbie rushed toward her father and was swept up in his arms.

“Look who’s come to see you.” He laughed as he acknowledged Ruth’s presence. “Your Aunt Ruthie is here.”

“I know,” Abbie said, burying her face in her father’s neck.

“Now don’t be so shy,” he urged. “You haven’t seen Aunt Ruthie for a long time.”

“Yes I have,” the little girl insisted. “I saw her when I came out of the barn. She said she wanted to talk to you and sent me to the house.”

Ruth laughed. “What an imagination that child has,” she asserted. “Why, I barely got here when I saw you go into the barn and went to meet you.”

“That’s not true,” Abbie protested. “You were here before Papa came back.” Suddenly the little girl looked stricken and began squirming in her father’s arms. “You didn’t hurt my kittens, did you? Let me down, Papa! I have to go see my kittens.”

Josh let the child drop to the ground and she ran off toward the barn before he could stop her.

“You see,” Ruth said, “the girl is completely out of control. Imagine living in fear that someone is going to harm a bunch of barn kittens. That’s what comes of allowing her to live in the same house as a murderess. You should let me take her home with me where she’d know she would be safe. If anything happens to that child there will be the devil to pay.”

Josh removed his wide-brimmed hat and replaced it on the back of his head. “It’s funny,” he said casually, “but Abbie never had any worries about the kittens before today. Could be she’s afraid you might want to take them home with you the same way you want to take her.”

Ruth drew herself up in outrage. “How dare you insinuate that I might have done something to disturb the child! I have nothing but her welfare at heart. And after the way she lied about seeing me…”

Meagan had heard most of the conversation and came forward. She didn’t understand Ruth’s intentions, but she certainly wasn’t going to allow the woman to drive a wedge between Abbie and her father. She smiled as she came toward them.

“Hello, Mrs. Somers. I see you found Josh. How lucky that he came back so early. I wanted to tell you that he had gone down to check the pens near the creek when Abbie told me you’d arrived, but you were nowhere in sight.”

Ruth was taken aback for a moment. Meagan was trying to ruin her credibility. Her mind worked desperately as she endeavored to think of some way to detract from Meagan’s tale.

Finally it came to her and she twisted her lips into a superior smile. “Of course I was nowhere in sight. If you didn’t see me it’s obvious I wasn’t here.” She turned to Josh. “This is ridiculous. Meagan is trying to cover up for Abbie’s lies. They’re conspiring together against you.”

Meagan spoke up before Josh had time to form an answer. “Well, maybe you weren’t here, Mrs. Somers,” Meagan admitted, “but your horse and wagon have been hitched to the rail ever since before I finished churning and that was quite a while ago.”

Ruth had forgotten about the horse, and the fact that it could be seen from the house.

“I can see that my presence isn’t appreciated here,” she fumed. “I just stopped by to see that Abbie was all right, not to be interrogated over the time of my arrival.”

“Now, Ruth,” Josh chided, “I’m sure you’re reading more into this than is necessary. You seem to be the one who is touchy about how long you’ve been here.” He was irritated that the woman had implied that Abbie lied. “If you don’t have time for a cup of tea I suppose you should be starting back home. Meagan and I have to get back to work.”

With a jerk of her head, Ruth marched to her wagon and, without a word of farewell, went on about her business, leaving Josh and Meagan to wonder as to the woman’s motives.

Meagan returned to the house and picked up the butter crock when Josh reached out and stopped her. As his hand touched her arm he felt the resilience of her flesh all the way to his toes.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming to Abbie’s defense,” he said, knowing it was only a half-truth.

Meagan had been real spunky when she stood up against Ruth in defense of his little girl, and he had wanted to whoop for joy. For once, someone besides himself had championed the child. Even Lily had seldom found a good word for their daughter. It had embarrassed the lovely Lily to have given birth to a child who was less than perfect. Making Abbie wear the bonnet was a constant reminder that there was something wrong with her appearance, and when the bonnet was removed Lily had found it almost impossible to look at her daughter.

And now Meagan had come along and seemed completely oblivious to the imperfection that set Abbie apart.

Meagan never accused Abbie of lying to draw attention to herself. And, to the best of his knowledge, Meagan never made fun of the girl because of the angle at which Abbie’s ears stuck out on each side of her head.

Josh wanted to do more than say thank-you to Meagan. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her how wonderful he thought she was, but he knew that was the last thing he dared do.

Meagan smiled at him somewhat hesitantly when he did not take his hand from her arm. He wanted to say something more, but he simply released her and stepped back.

“And Abbie thanks you too,” he said lamely, as Meagan, sensing potential danger, scurried out the door.

It was almost dark when Josh saw Meagan again. By that time he had gotten a rein on his emotions and greeted her in an offhanded manner as she entered the barn.

Abbie darted past her and ran to the stanchion where Josh was milking the cow.

“Squirt me some milk,” the little girl demanded, and her father laughingly aimed the udder toward her opened mouth. The first stream of milk missed and splashed against Abbie’s cheek and onto her bonnet. She shrieked with delight as the second hit her open mouth.

“Sorry about getting milk on her bonnet,” Josh called over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Meagan answered laughing. “Bonnets will wash.”

The cow lowed restlessly. Josh checked the trough and asked, “Meagan, will you go up in the mow and toss down some hay?”

“I’ll go first and make sure the kittens aren’t in the way,” Abbie volunteered as she whisked up the slat ladder and disappeared into the loft.

“Hurry, hurry,” Meagan urged. “I’m right behind you.”

Abbie’s delighted giggles were punctuated by a gasp and the clap of one piece of wood striking another. Josh turned from his milking to see Meagan tumble to the ground.

Exasperated at having her milking turned into a circus, the cow kicked the bucket the moment Josh let go of her udder.

Meagan groaned as she tried to catch her breath while Abbie’s anxious little face peered from the top of the ladder.

Josh knelt down beside Meagan and lifted her into his arms. “There, there, now. Take it easy. It’s going to be all right. Are you hurt? Do you think you busted anything?”

Meagan’s head was spinning but she wasn’t certain whether it was because of the fall or the touch of Josh’s hands as he ran them along her body searching for broken bones. Had she been alone she would probably have climbed to her feet and waited until the pain in her hip and the dizziness subsided, but with Josh cradling her against his body she lost any desire to move.

She opened her eyes and waited until she was able to focus on the thick blond hair and strong features so unbearably close to her.

She nestled her head against his shoulder as he brushed back the hair that had fallen over her face.

“What happened, Papa?” Abbie demanded from her perch. “How did Meagan fall off the ladder?”

Josh looked up. One of the wooden slats that served as a rung swung free on one end. “I guess one of the slats came loose.” Josh barely glanced at the ladder, for his full attention was on Meagan, who was still trying to catch her breath.

“Are you hurt?” he asked again. “Do you have pain anywhere?”

“No,” she managed. “Nothing like that. Just knocked the wind out of me. Is Abbie all right?”

“She’s up there.” Josh indicated the cavernous hole above their heads without taking his eyes from the woman in his arms. “Looks like you cracked your head real good.” He brushed his hand over her forehead, gingerly touching the rising lump.

“Papa! Lift me down!” Abbie demanded. “I’ll go get some cold water for Meagan’s head.” The little girl’s perception amazed her father.

Reluctantly, he released Meagan and held his arms up to his daughter. It was while he stood in this position that he saw the fresh marks against the aging wood. He put the little girl on the ground and turned back to the ladder.