"A Ms. Frances Gates. She came and inspected my house. There's been a complaint." Abby rested her head on her mother's shoulder and sobbed. "I just wanted to come home."
"Well, you stay right here with me. Did she tell you who reported you?"
"No," Abby said and sat up straight. Chloe leaning on her while she was leaning on her mom was too much for her back.
"Well, you've got nothing to worry about. You don't have what they're looking for."
"How do you know?"
"I just do. You should see some of the kids they find. Living in filth, black and blue... You don't have any of that."
"I hope you're right. I'm just scared. Who would have done such a thing?"
"Bradley."
"But, Mom, if he wants to see her so badly, why doesn't he come and see her? Besides that, if I'm so dangerous, why did he leave her with me in the first place?"
Anger surged through her. She stood up and started to clean up the blocks by throwing them back in their box.
"That's it. If I'm so bloody awful, why did he leave her with me in the first place?"
"Good point," Helen replied.
"Too bad you don't have any connections down there at that place. You should have seen that woman. If she ever knew how to smile, it was a long time ago."
"I guess so. You don't understand what kind of stuff they see every day. It's like police work. You see a lot of the dregs of society, and it takes its toll on the good people who work there."
"Yeah, well, that's no reason to be bad to my Chloe."
"Was she bad to Chloe?" Abby could see Helen's hackles rise.
"No, not really. I am just upset."
"I'm assuming that you do not intend to move in?"
"No. I just wanted to come home for tonight. I'm so tired."
"Well, I'm gonna get changed. I've been in these scrubs all day. I've been filling in for my friend ... " Her voice trailed off as she disappeared into her room.
It was so good to be home. Chloe had dumped the blocks back out again and was building a shaky tower.
Abby remembered when the carpet in this house was a bright red floral. She had been a baby, and the house had belonged to her grandmother. Her mom had since replaced that carpet with the tasteful beige one they were sitting on.
They passed the evening pleasantly, reminiscing of the days when there were more of them. They told each other the old stories and looked forward to the day when they could share them with Chloe.
"What more have you heard of Duncan MacLeod?" Helen asked.
"Nothing really. One girl at work seems to think that he has no right to the family business. But that's none of her business, if you ask me. My friend Debbie thinks he's a hunk." She laughed at the old word. Her mom smiled.
"What do you think?"
"I like him. But that doesn't mean much. You just have to look at Brad to know that I definitely do not know how to pick men. I've been sorta waiting for you to get back to me on it. Did you find out anything?"
"No, but I did remember that it wasn't him in the ER that night. I mean he was there, but he wasn't being seen. I couldn't find out anything without the right name."
"Too bad."
"Well, maybe you should take your chances. He seems nice enough."
"What are you talking about? This whole check-him-out thing was your idea. 'Be like Aunt Mae' you said. 'Make a list.'"
Helen was smiling broadly at her. She knew something.
"All I'm saying is that you have my approval to go ahead."
"Why?"
"I heard something the other day. I can't tell you about it. But I think he's probably OK."
Abby held onto the chair she sat on. She should be elated. Duncan had shown interest in her, Lord knew how she felt about him. But now she had this investigation to get through. According to her mom, she should be all right. But she didn't know yet.
"I don't have time for that stuff right now. Maybe someday."
"You have nothing to worry about. Your apartment is clean. Chloe is not beaten. It'll be fine, although it's a good idea not to start up anything new with him until the investigation is done. You don't want them thinking that you are parading a string of uncles through Chloe's life. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah."
Helen's view of a relationship would, of course, include the modern standards of premarital sex, despite what Abby told her about the way she conducted herself. And if that's what her mother thought, then why would a complete stranger, who was not predisposed to give Abby the benefit of the doubt, think any differently?
Abby went to bed early. The stress of the last few days was telling in her mood. She was cranky. Peace and quiet were what she wanted. Time to think. What had Helen found out? It wasn't the first time patient confidentiality had come between Helen and a story she wanted to tell about a problem she had encountered. Abby knew her mom well enough to know that she would never find out from her the events of that night.
Well, approval or no, Abby could not have Duncan MacLeod until the investigation was finished. Her name must be cleared. Then she would be free.
She drifted into a fitful sleep and awoke unsatisfied as if she hadn't slept at all.
Chapter 29
“Duncan, it's been more than a month." The stern voice that Erin MacLeod used to discipline her boys still caused him to sit up straight and pay attention. She was sitting across the table from her son sharing coffee in the large airy kitchen of their home.
The room was nearly the size of Abby's apartment, he realized. There were large multi-paned windows across the back of the room overlooking a well-kept garden. Adjacent to it, there was a massive round table ensconced in a bank of bay windows. They sat there now blowing on hot cups of coffee.
This was what Abby must have meant. Her place was like a closet compared to this light-filled room. He had blown off her comments about her apartment. Maybe he had been in the Army too long; he didn't feel anchored to any one place as home. This was where he went home to, not where he lived.
His mother's tired smile brought his thoughts back to the table. The lines on Erin's face were deepened with fatigue. Duncan wished he could ease her grief. He hadn't seen her really smile since before his father died.
"I know, Mom. It's just not that easy. I had forgotten all about this. It's not like I had somebody hanging around just in case I needed to get married real quick." He felt the burden of his family's legacy, like an unfinished task. “It’s nothing but tradition and superstition. Like black cats and ladders, it's almost pagan."
"Is that what you think?" Amusement glittered in Erin's eyes.
"Yeah. Jesus even told the Pharisee's that they broke the law of God with their traditions."
"True." Erin's eyes gleamed. "But doesn't Isaiah say 'it is better not to vow a vow than to vow a vow—"
"And break it." They spoke in unison. Erin smiled at him.
"Duncan, you gave your word before God. This requirement does not break any of God's laws that I know of." He slumped onto the table sliding his cup forward as he did so.
"Mom."
He needed time. He wasn't sure exactly when he had chosen Abby, but it seemed he had. She was so hurt and fragile. She had run away from him the day of her interview. He did feel the Lord had spoken to him about the child. Spending time with her at the church had done the trick. He was ready.
"Get up, Duncan." He sat back up.
"I am planning Easter on the Lawn. Find someone to bring."
Erin stood to indicate the end of their interview.
And that's just how Duncan felt. He'd been interviewed and found wanting. Easter was still three weeks away. Perhaps if he was careful, and with the guidance of God, she wouldn't be frightened off.
Chapter 30
Two weeks before the grand opening, Abby was kept too busy to dwell on her troubles, including Duncan MacLeod. Every night she worked on something after Chloe had been fed, bathed, and bedded down, often falling into bed herself a
fter midnight. She brought home pamphlets and brochures to make welcome packets for their guests at the grand opening; she worked on arrangements for the Old Thyme Festival; and she practiced her music for Easter.
On Friday night she had a rehearsal at the church. She dropped off Chloe with her mom and made her way across the little town. Abby was glad to get out and play music with her friends.
The music soothed her troubled soul. She had gone round and round in her mind, but she could not figure out who could have done such a thing to her and Chloe. Since there was no truth to Chloe being abused, someone must have misconstrued something he or she saw, or else they out and out lied. Her face flamed red with indignation when she remembered the woman at the Seven-Eleven.
It had been Wednesday evening after work and Abby stopped in to buy a bottled soda. While they were waiting in line, Chloe picked up a lollipop.
"I want lollipop."
"No," Abby had said.
The woman in front of her turned around, took the lollipop from Chloe and paid for it. She handed it back to the child with a snide look at Abby. She walked out of the store before she could hear Abby take the sucker from Chloe and tell her, "Maybe after dinner."
The condescension in the woman's eyes stayed with Abby. She saw them in the eyes of every stranger. And yet she could think of no enemy. Only Brad, but she had made their daughter available to him. He hadn't called. She hadn't seen him since the child spewed vomit across the restaurant onto his pants three weeks earlier.
Chloe was too little to understand. But one day she would. One day she would want to know why her father didn't come to see her. It was going to be hard on Chloe. But Abby was not going to chase him or teach Chloe to chase after him. If Bradley chose to fail, then he could do it without Abby making excuses or covering for him.
Duncan's truck was parked among the others when she arrived at the church. Avoiding him here would be harder, but she did have things to do. No doubt he did too or he wouldn't be here.
It would be so much easier just to talk to him and tell him what was going on, but she couldn't. Abby was embarrassed by her mother's suggestion that Chloe shouldn't appear to have a bunch of uncles. Besides that, she had to stand on her own two feet. She didn't need his power or his wealth; she would do this on her own. Then she could think about the future.
Pastor Bob was standing on the stage in the front of the sanctuary when she walked in the door. Peace came over her; she felt safe and loved here.
"Hi, Abby." Lars came in from the door that led downstairs from the back of the altar.
"Hi, guys." Abby placed her things in a pew and went up to see what she could do to help while she waited for the rest of the praise team to arrive.
"I have a praise!" Mrs. Young arrived on the altar with a giggle.
"I am glad I caught you, Abby." She laid a hand on Abby's forearm. "Lars, Pastor. Is Duncan here? I saw his truck outside."
Abby shrugged. She hadn't seen him yet.
"He's downstairs getting the brass vases for the lilies," Lars answered.
"Well, I'll just tell him when I see him. Ruth, my daughter"—she looked around to include them all—"we talked last night for the first time. I mean we really talked." Her eyes misted over at the memory. "And she called Charlie."
Abby felt the delicious tingly fingers of God. Her spirit soared.
"Hallelujah!"
"They have a date next week. I am so happy for them," Mrs. Young continued. "Who knows? Maybe someday I will get some grandchildren after all."
They all laughed.
"Well, I have a prayer request," Abby said. "A social worker came to my house on Tuesday. Someone reported me for something. I don't know what. I'm under investigation. Please pray that they won't take Chloe from me."
Abby answered all the questions: No, she didn't know who did it; No, she didn't know what action of hers could have been misconstrued.
"And please don't tell anyone else." Talking with them and sharing her distress did nothing to alleviate the growing fear that things were going to get worse before they got better.
"Of course we won't, dear." Mrs. Young patted her arm.
"It's no one's business," breathed Lars in his sonorous voice. Pastor Bob just shook his head. His eyes spoke for him.
Abby thought it was a gift of God that it took Duncan so long to find the vases in the basement. He didn't turn up until the subject had changed to the music they were to rehearse.
The rehearsal began after Rose, the music director, arrived. It was all business after that.
Agitation over the social worker's visit was a noise in Abby's mind. She couldn't concentrate on the music. She was haunted by images of Chloe living with Brad and worse. Chloe taken into foster care. The desire to dive under a rock became severe when these thoughts presented themselves.
Abby had never had a worse practice in her life. She drove Chloe home glad it was over.
The weekend loomed before her empty, but for the waiting.
Every time she sat down to play with Chloe, Abby wondered if it would be the last time she would be able to do so with her daughter without people watching. She took that thought with her everywhere she went: the drug store, the grocery store. All eyes were surveillance cameras, watching, waiting to catch her in some evil act.
Chapter 31
Duncan drove home from church troubled. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop on Abby's prayer request. He had heard voices as he came up the back stairs. Only when he put his hand on the doorknob did he hear Abby say she had a prayer request. He waited to give her time to finish and then she said she didn't want anyone else to know. So he waited like a sneak until the subject changed. He hated deceit. Soon he would have to tell her that he had heard them. Chloe was all that Abby had or cared about. Anyone who knew her knew that. She always took seconds when it came to her kid. He'd never seen a woman wear shabbier clothes than her children. And now someone was threatening everything she had.
That was the first clue, he realized. Someone who didn't know her had to be at the heart of this. If he ever got his hands on the person who did this, he or she would be very sorry indeed. Until then, he would use his considerable resources to help her.
Of course Douggie would have to handle this. And if he wasn't good enough, then he would find out who was. Abby would have only the best. The image of Chloe smiling up into his eyes while she ate doughnuts on the back of his truck stayed with him as he walked into the house.
Of course she wouldn't let him fight this for her. She would want to do this alone. She was independent. There was a lot to admire about Abigail Ericksen. She would fight this on her own—and fight his help.
Of course he could just marry her today and let whoever it was come after him. But she wouldn't do that either. Abby would come to him on her own terms.
She would have to come to him free and clear, or she wouldn't respect herself.
He smiled to himself; it was good that his mom would host the Easter on the Lawn.
When Duncan arrived home, he found his mother and brothers eating a late dinner in the kitchen.
"Douggie, could I see you in my office?"
He turned away from them to pour himself a glass of iced tea. His office. He had needed to correct himself before he spoke. He needed to think of it that way or forever stand in Lachlan's shadow. It felt good, casting off the mantle of grief. He had to choose life; Lachlan would have expected no less.
"Oooo, Duncan, is it time for the prenupts?" Andrew teased. Angus laughed.
"No. And when it is time for me to marry, there will be no prenuptial agreement. What's mine will be hers, and what is hers will be mine. Do you understand?"
Eyes all around the table were wide. "Well, sure Duncan. We were only teasing ya."
"Now, Douglas, if you have a moment."
It was not meant to be a question. Douglas stood up and followed his brother into his study.
Duncan went in and sat down behind the desk. Then he stood up and beg
an to clear away the desk ornaments. This was his space now, and he had work to do.
Chapter 32
Saturday morning dawned sunny and warm. Flowers were beginning to bloom. Abby opened every window in her apartment. A fresh wind blew past the white bars, clearing the air. Abby felt like a prisoner, afraid to go out because of the eyes of others. Her strength returned as she paid her bills.
When she was done, she had money left over. It hadn't happened since she had been divorced. God had taken care of her. So why should she sit behind bars hiding when He would take care of her? She had enough money left to buy her groceries and a new Easter outfit for Chloe.
"Come on, Chloe. We're going out."
Four hours later she returned with a trunk full of groceries and two dress bags.
The dress she bought for Chloe was in yellow dotted Swiss. It was smocked at the top and had puffed sleeves. The dress she found for herself was the same shade of yellow. It had ordinary flat sleeves and a v-neck. She wouldn't have bought it except it was on the clearance rack. She couldn't believe her good fortune.
It was good to get out, and it was good to be home. Her mailbox was bulging with circulars and the local weekly paper. After she put away the food, she went out front to retrieve the mail.
Wrapped in her newspaper were two letters and a bill. She tucked the bill away in the drawer reserved for that purpose and looked at the addresses on the others. The first was a card. "MacLeod" was embossed in gold on the flap. The other was a number ten business size from Social Services.
She put the others down on the counter and tore into the envelope. She had not expected to hear so soon.
"...We are closing the investigation. We have found no evidence of the claim that was made against you. We will keep your file open for one year. You may request a review if you choose. You must make this request within 30 days ... "
She was free! She broke out in a sweat. Her hands began to shake. She was free.
"Chloe!" The child came out from her room.