The Peculiar Adventures of Miss Abigail Crumb trilogy by Louisa Swann

Author:Louisa Swann [Swann, Louisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fictionj
Publisher: Eye of the Eagle
Published: 2020-04-20T00:00:00+00:00

I HAD ALMOST made it back to my own tent when a sudden noise somewhere ahead made me freeze in place.

Was this it then? Had Owen managed to stage his “distraction”?

Quickly, I limped into my tent, added the girls’ things to my now-stuffed valise, managed to latch the valise closed—and waited.

“You’ll have to ride somewhere else,” I told Ahoy. He wriggled his nose, but seemed more interested in what was going on outside than in the fact that he had just lost his primary mode of transportation.

It didn’t take long before it became clear that Owen had, indeed, staged his distraction. Several voices raised in consternation, men’s voices mostly.

Then Mother’s voice, loud and insistent.

I couldn’t make out her words, but the very sound of her annoyance made my blood run cold.

I snatched Ahoy from the cot and stuffed him into my flannel shirt. I had decided not to change, reasoning that the trousers would be easier to deal with in the mud. Turned out the flannel shirt was an ideal spot to hide a rat.

Valise and light stick in hand, I left my tent for the last time.

I hoped.

The clearing around the main campfire was partially visible from Mother’s tent. There was definitely a commotion going on. Mother stood just to the left of the fire, looking every bit the regal queen. She was surrounded by a group of men, miners from the day shift from what I could tell. I’d never seen the night crew, of course, but several of the faces looked familiar.

Everyone was speaking at once, trying to get Mother’s attention. Owen stood next to Mother. He held up his hand.

“Show us what you’re talking about,” he said in a calm voice. I caught a glimpse of Mother’s face before she turned away.

Someone was in for a bad night.

One of the men led the way toward the opposite side of camp, toward the clearing where the men had had their disagreement earlier in the day.

I waited in the shadow between tents until the footsteps died away.

Then I slipped into Mother’s tent.

Trepidation set my nerves on fire as I scanned the interior, looking for Phoebe and Flo and trying not to choke on the cloying stench of whatever incense Mother had burning.

The girls’ cots had been brought in and positioned along the back wall, one to each side of the tub. But neither of the girls appeared to be occupying their respective cots. Neither were they sitting at the table or the secretary.

Before I could fall into complete panic, Ahoy leapt from my arms and skittered across the carpet, disappearing beneath Mother’s cot.

Someone squeaked.

Definitely not the rat.

“It’s me,” I whispered, not wanting to speak in a normal voice. There was always a chance someone could be outside. Or that Mother had taken care of whatever situation had evolved and was back already, although that particular scenario was highly unlikely. “We’re leaving. Come along.”

“Abby?” Flo’s head popped out from under the cot, followed rapidly by the rest of her. Her nightdress was wrinkled, and she had streaks on her face from crying.

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