Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

A fter a few days, Abraham was getting used to the routine. Customers came daily because Tonganoxie was a trading post and a rest stop for travelers who were coming from the west to Kansas City, and for soldiers and traders moving from Fort Leavenworth to Fort Scott and vice versa. When he'd first arrived in the small town, he hadn't realized how popular Magdalena Bury's Tavern and trading post was as a stopping place for the travelers on the Oregon trail as well. All of these people kept Miss Cahill's livery afloat, but the people dealt mostly with Ms. Penelope, telling her what they wanted, and then she would relay the needs to either Miss Cahill or to himself. So that he and she were both able to work with the horses without the constant interference by the owners.

Swallowing hard, he peered out the window toward the riding paddock. Miss Cahill's silhouette was outline by the reddening sky. In the mornings, she rode two or three horses, then worked through the stalls during the day, and then rode another two or three horses in the evening. It had gotten so that if Abraham wasn't busy shoeing a horse, he would give her a hand with untacking and rubbing down horses after she rode. At first, she'd been surprised by his willingness to act as her groom, but for him, this was what he'd done in the army for cavalry men. He didn't see much difference in doing it for her.

Now that he'd gotten the hang of things, the two of them didn't need to speak much to each other. She wrote in chalk on the dark wall which horses needed things done with their feet or fencing that needed repaired, and Abraham would just do those things. The quiet between them was comfortable and amicable, but he knew that would need to change if he had any hope in wooing her.

The thought of that made his heart race and his palms a bit sweaty. At first, he'd thought of Miss Cahill as a means to an end. That he could use her to achieve his dreams. But as they'd gotten to know each other over the last several days, his affection for her had grown.

They were kindred spirits. She seemed to prefer animals over the people as well, and showed the animals in her care respect, even as she gave them boundaries. The horses respected her as boss mare, and rightly so. In every situation when it came to the livery, Miss Cahill had control of what happened and when. In the house, it was a different story. There, her aunt, Ms. Penelope had control, and Miss Cahill seemed to willingly hand over the reins there.

Abraham had no intention of upsetting the balance in either situation. He did what he could instead to make both of their jobs easier.

"How is the bunny doing?" Miss Cahill asked when he took hold of her horse's reins to untack him.

But it caught him by surprise, and for a moment he stumbled to find an answer while he removed the horse's saddle. "She's doing well. Moving around the box and getting more comfortable in her environment, and though she nibbles at the alfalfa hay and oats that I put there, she prefers your aunt's vegetables, for certain."

"She? Have you determined that she's female then?"

"Oh," he said, rubbing the horse down as his cheeks heated. "No, I honestly don't know, but she just looks like a female to me, and I didn't want to keep referring to her as an it."

She nodded, the smallest of smiles reaching her lips. When Miss Cahill was done riding and at this time of day, her eyes seemed to hold onto less concern, her shoulders were relaxed, and she seemed happier with the world. Sometimes, in the mornings when there was much to be done, or when a group of soldiers used the livery overnight and there were many horses to care for, Miss Cahill would become downright surly herself. Abraham remembered when that term could be used to describe him, but since he'd been in Tonganoxie, he'd become much more serene and hadn't lost his temper at all. Maybe it was because he'd been abiding in the Lord, but maybe it was also because Miss Cahill put herself as a buffer between the customers and his work. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he could keep his peace so well since he'd come to town.

"Would you like to see her?" he asked as he put the horse away in his stall and hung the halter on the hook by the door.

Her eyes lit up as she smiled wider and nodded.

Holding up a finger, he gestured for her to wait and then he made his way up the ladder quickly. After taking hold of the crate, he lowered himself back down to the aisle of the barn. He found her eyeing the ladder upon his descent.

"You fixed the third rung."

He nodded. "I did that on my first day here."

"Oh," she said, her cheeks pinking a little. "I hadn't noticed."

"That's all right. You don't have much need to go up the ladder any longer." Then he thought about her going up the ladder with him there and it made his own cheeks heat. For a moment, neither of them seemed able to look at each other.

Then she cleared her throat. "So, the bunny is in the crate?"

"Yes," he said, pulling the crate in front of him and allowing her to peer in. The bunny was nibbling at the handful of alfalfa that he had put in there earlier that morning. "She's a bit spry so I can't really handle her anymore. She doesn't like to sit still in my hands and tries to slip out. I imagine it won't be more than few weeks before she's ready to be loose in the wild again."

Miss Cahill blinked up at him. "She's already grown too, and it's only been a few days."

"I thought she might have, but I see her every day, so I wasn't certain."

"I'd say she's almost a third bigger than she was before. She probably won't fit in the palm of your hand like she could before."

He huffed a laugh. "You're probably right there. She's definitely longer than my palm."

Reaching in with her fingers, Miss Cahill gave the bunny a couple of strokes on the top of its head. The bunny flinched at her touch at first, but then settled in and continued to nibble at the hay, seemingly not to care about the pats. "She's much calmer than she was before. You've done well by her."

Unsure how to respond, Abraham didn't say anything. He was unused to receiving praise of any kind and felt that it might make things more awkward if he thanked her. Still, his cheeks heated more. The light from the sun was dwindling, casting them both in a golden glow that came through the front door of the barn. It highlighted Miss Cahill's hair and made it seem as though she had a halo. The light around her gave her an angelic appearance, and Abraham was struck with a bit of awe. There were moments like this when it seemed that there was no more beautiful woman on Earth, and he wondered how he could even be in her presence like this, much less being expected to woo her and make her think of marrying him? Would that even be possible? Was he even worthy of such a task?

She stepped to the side and took hold of the saddle that was still on the holder outside the door of the stall. Then she started toward the tack room. "I'll lock up down here if you want to put her away. Penelope will be coming down to the barn shortly to see where we are if we don't get moving to join her for dinner."

"Right," he said, coming out of his thoughts, but his heart still raced in his chest. "I'll put her away."

"Have you given her a name?" she asked as he started up the ladder.

"No, not yet," he called down as he put the crate back in the space by his pallet. Then he came back down the ladder and found her waiting there for him. "I haven't given it much thought."

"I was thinking we should," she said as they both made their way out of the barn, swinging the doors shut and latching them afterwards. "Something like Penny."

He lifted a brow. "Are you naming her after your aunt?"

She shrugged as they walked along the path between the barn and the house. "Why not? If we want the bunny to be strong and resilient, and too stubborn to fail, Penelope is a good name. Penny for short, of course, so we know we're referring to the rabbit and not the human."

"All right then," he said with a nod as they approached the front porch of the house. "Penny it is."

After kicking off their boots and removing them, they made their way inside for supper.