Abbie's Outlaw by Victoria Bylin

Author:Victoria Bylin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2005-08-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The Trent place had changed in the time since John had married Ethan and Jayne on a nearby knoll. The cabin had been replaced by a frame house, and the barn held four fine quarterhorses. As he rode through the meadow, he noticed the lupine just beginning to open in the morning sun. The stalks reminded him of Abbie’s wedding flowers.

Damn, but he was aching again—for himself, for Abbie, for the things that couldn’t be. He had to focus on the needs he could meet, not the ones that pulled at his groin as well as his heart. Forcing his gaze away from the flowers and the new grass that matched Abbie’s eyes, John rode across the yard and dismounted.

As he swung out of the saddle, Ethan stepped onto the porch. The man who had once resembled an angry grizzly was already shaved and sipping coffee. He hadn’t lost his instincts, though. When he saw John, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What’s wrong?”

Ethan’s dire tone matched John’s mood perfectly. Looking just as grim, he said, “I need a dress.”

Ethan arched an eyebrow. “Should I be worried about you?”

Realizing how peculiar he’d sounded, John chuckled. He’d made a similar remark to Ethan when the rancher had hijacked a trunk full of Jayne’s clothes during their courtship. “You’ve waited a whole year to get back at me for that crack, haven’t you?”

“I sure have.” Ethan held out his hand and the two men shook. “Come inside, Reverend. Have some breakfast and tell us what’s got you in a twist.”

As John followed Ethan into the house, the aroma of biscuits tickled his nose. He was close to relaxing when a baby’s delighted squeal reached his ears. He’d dedicated Louisa Margaret Trent last winter. She was six months old and blond like her mother.

John’s heart squeezed. His daughter had made baby sounds he would never hear. She had nursed at Abbie’s breast and he hadn’t seen that flow of milk and the love in her mother’s eyes.

Before he could collect his thoughts, Jayne came around the corner holding Louisa on her hip. Yesterday he would have reached for the little girl and plopped down in the rocker. Today he couldn’t make his arms move.

“Hello, Reverend.” Jayne’s eyes filled with worry. “Are you all right?”

That’s when he realized he hadn’t shaved for two days and his eyes were red-rimmed and bleary. The work shirt under the black coat wasn’t exactly fresh, and the blue chambray didn’t match his usual attire. Not wanting to explain himself, he focused on the task at hand. “Do you remember a gray dress you had for sale at the Emporium?”

“Sure,” she answered. “A suit with pearl buttons and a high collar.”

“I need you to make about five more in the same size, but in pretty colors with buttons and what-not.” His voice picked up speed. “She needs underthings, too—just as pretty as you can make them. And nightgowns and a wrapper. Any color but pink… How long will it take?”

“I finished two dresses yesterday that are just her size.

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