Chapter 6

After taking care of her son’s “need,” a troubled Abigail required time alone. Not forgetting the soap this time, she returned to the secluded part of the lake for her bath. Standing knee-deep in water, she scrubbed herself with the bar of soap purchased at Baxter’s, an item he got from back east especially for her. The lye in the soap Abigail made on the ranch for cleaning clothes and dishes irritated her skin, so she splurged and purchased the bathing soap from back east. It was important because she bathed often, a carryover of her upbringing in New York City. Her mother had been adamant about good hygiene. Abigail washed her privates, underarms, and under her boobs with a basin of water and sponge in her bedroom each night, but there was nothing like the feeling of her whole body being clean. She had taught her son to do the same.

When done bathing, Abigail remained at the lake a while longer to enjoy the solitary time. She floated on her back, nude with her long hair cascading around her head and shoulders, thinking about Wyatt. He was growing up. What was his future going to be? How would he meet a woman to marry and raise a family with? Maybe they needed to get involved more with the townspeople. But they lived so far away. Was that even possible? Wyatt could always get a mail-order bride like his father had. But it would be years before he’d be ready for a wife. She’d have him all to herself for that time.

That triggered Abigail to reflect on what she had done with her son. It was wrong. But it was the better of two evils. She couldn’t allow her son to fornicate with animals. That was immoral. Maybe even unhealthy. But she no longer had to worry about her son doing that with the sheep. She and Wyatt had made an agreement and shook on it. Suddenly, her relaxed, buoyant body tensed, sinking her legs into the water. Now standing, the realization of that handshake hit home. Not only would Wyatt have to live up to his end of it, but so would she.

After drying and dressing, Abigail headed back to the cabin. On the way, she looked around for any sign of Wyatt. The four horses were in the corral so he hadn’t ridden off somewhere. She went into the cabin. It was empty. Now anxious, she rushed to the outhouse and knocked on the door.

“Wyatt, you in there?”

There was no answer. She opened the outhouse door to be sure. It was empty. Abigail’s breathing caught and her heart pounded. In a panic, she dashed to the barn, her wet hair bouncing on the back of her dress and tickling her cheeks. Out of breath, with her heart beating even faster, she flung the barn door open and rushed inside. After a quick look around, she hurried to the corner with the wall of hay. Nothing was behind it. No sheep. No Wyatt.

Abigail collapsed onto the floor with her knees up, her elbows on her knees, and her face buried in her cupped hands. I can’t go on like this. I have to trust him.

When Abigail’s sobbing subsided, she brushed the hay off her dress and left the barn. She was heading to the cabin with her head hung when she heard the shouting. Looking up, she saw Wyatt jogging toward her. One hand held the rifle while his other was high in the air, clutching the hind legs of a dead rabbit.

“Yippee! Yippee!” Wyatt shouted. “Look what I got!”

A huge smile spread across Abigail’s face. What had she been worried about? Everything was perfect.

“I’m gonna dress the rabbit,” Wyatt said and smacked his lips. “Can’t wait for dinner.”

Abigail smiled ear to ear. This was the boy she knew and loved. A young man who, someday, would make a lucky girl a wonderful husband. Abigail had taught him to shoot, but he was a better shot than her. He could ride better. Rope better. Do everything on the ranch better. She smirked. Except take care of the vegetable garden. He always complained that was woman’s work, even though Abigail had told him that his father had taught her.

Dinner was great. Throughout it, Wyatt didn’t stop talking about his hunt. How he had snuck up on the rabbit. How it only took a single shot. All the while, he shoveled food into his mouth while asking for more. Abigail had been ready for the laborious salting process to preserve the leftover meat for another day, but before she knew it, Wyatt had finished the rabbit off. That gave her extra free time before bed so, after putting the clean dishes back in the cupboard, she took their Bible off the shelf and placed it on the kitchen table next to the lit kerosene lamp.

“Let’s read tonight,” Abigail said.

“Aw, do we have to?”

Abigail crossed her arms. “Wyatt Grimston Jr., what kind of attitude is that? There’s no church near us so this is how we stay close to God. And it’s how you practice reading.”

“I’m sorry, Mama, I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

“I know. Let’s get ready for bed first. We’ll be more comfortable and then we can go right to sleep.”

Abigail went into her bedroom and stripped out of her outer clothes and the thigh-length chemise she wore on warmer days. About to put on the ankle-length one she slept in, she first filled the basin with water from the pitcher and used the sponge on the areas she cleaned each night. Since she had taken a bath that day she probably didn’t have to do it, but it was habit. Then she put on the ankle-length chemise she slept in and returned to the front room. Wyatt was waiting on his bed wearing his long johns.

The two sat side by side at the kitchen table. Abigail opened the Bible to the page they had left off the last time and pointed to where Wyatt was to begin. When he started reading, she dropped her hands in her lap and leaned into Wyatt’s shoulder so that she could read along to make sure he made no mistakes. That pressed her breasts into his back as she looked over his shoulder, her cheek brushing his.