Rebellious Bride by Lizbeth Dusseau Page B

better,” Abigail exclaimed as she watched Darcy sitting up,
sipping the mug of soup that she’d brought her ailing friend.
    “I am
feeling much better. The fever broke. Though I imagine, I should sit tight
another day.”
    “I would
say so,” Abigail said sternly. “You still don’t look very well.”
    “So how
did you make out with being away?” Darcy asked.
    “What was
that?” Abigail would rather have avoided the question.3
    “With
Aaron, you dummy. He didn’t find out you were gone?”
    Abigail
blushed before she could lie. “He caught me, I’m afraid.”
    “Oh,
drat! I’m sorry.”
    “It was
just a little licking he gave me.”
    “He whupped you too? That nasty varmint!”
    “I
deserved it, Darcy. You remember his warnings about my gadding about anywhere I
want?”
    “Yeah, I
know. I’m sorry I’ve gotten you into this, I really am.”
    “I know.
But some things you just have to do, even if the consequences are bad.”
    Darcy gave her
an appreciative smile. “But you better be getting home now,” she
said.
    “You’re
right about that, I won’t be late this time.”
    “You’re a
real friend to help me, Abby. But you get on now, before you get your behind
blistered again.”
    “I
will.” Abigail stood up and looked down at Darcy. She did look much
better, enough for Abigail to think that the worst of her woes were over.
Grabbing for her bag, she headed for the barn door. But opening the creaky old
thing, she immediately stopped short.
    “My, my,
my, what do we have here?” a scraggly man snickered at her. He leered at
her with his toothless grin and an unshaven face.
    “Who are
you?” Abigail asked.
    “I sees
you have the little thief in there,” the man said, as he looked beyond
Abigail.
    “Who are
you, answer my question?” Abigail ordered.
    “Seems if
you know Darcy Greenwood, you should know who I am. I’m the man she’s running
from.”
    “Leave
her alone!” Darcy called out, realizing what was happening. The sick young
woman’ rose from her straw bed and made her way to the door. “Abigail
leave, just leave,” her friend encouraged her. Abigail looked back as
Darcy approached and the scraggly scoundrel lurched forward and grabbed Abigail’s
wrist.
    “Oh no,
you don’t, you’re not going anywhere,” the man’s leering scowl informed
her.
    “Please!”
she tried to wrench away.
    “Get your
hands off of her,” Darcy snapped. She was on the old man in an instant,
but it was an instant too late. He’d pulled a knife out of nowhere and had it
at Abigail’s throat.
    “You want
to try that again?” he seethed at Darcy.
    Darcy’s eyes
flashed, her anger raged, but there was nothing she could do that wouldn’t put
her best friend in mortal jeopardy.
    “Don’t
hurt her. She’s just my friend, Burt.”
    “Really?”
the man said, turning to eye Abigail close up. His breath right in front of her
nose was foul from liquor, but Abigail was too terrified to show anything but
her trembling fear.
    “Please
let me go,” she said timidly.
    “Maybe,”
Burt said. He eased off a bit with the knife, but he didn’t loosen his grasp on
Abigail’s wrist. “This the one that gave you the money?”
    “No one
gave me the money, Burt,” Darcy said.
    He looked from
Darcy to Abigail and back again. “I think you’re lying. This is the missus
from up the road. These fine clothes. You were staying with her, and all of a
sudden you have my money. I’d bet. . “
    “Burt,
you have your money,” Darcy said. “What more do you want?”
    “I want
it all,” he said.
    “What’s
that suppose to mean?” Darcy replied.
    “I
thought that the hundred was all I’d get from you. But now that I see what a
fine wellheeled lady that we have here, I know
there’s a lot more.”
    “Please,
I don’t have a penny,” Abigail informed him.
    “Oh?
Where’d you get the last?”
    “Please.
I couldn’t possibly,” she protested.
    “Listen,
Bart,” Darcy said with her eyes going