Free Tabitha: Bride of Missouri (American Mail-Order Bride 24) by Amelia C. Adams Page A

replied.
    “I wonder if I might stop by later this afternoon. To talk.” He looked a bit uncomfortable making his request, and she winced. Was he planning to bring up the topic of courting again? Hadn’t she been clear before?
    “I suppose,” she said hesitantly, wanting to refuse, but knowing that Clara was right behind her and probably listening to every word.
    “Excellent. I have a lunch invitation today, but I’ll be by afterwards.” He gave a slight bow, and she moved through the doorway and out into the autumn chill.
    “What was that about?” Clara wanted to know as they met up on the sidewalk.
    “I’m afraid I don’t know,” Tabitha replied.
    “Miss Phillips! Tabitha!” Thomas came up beside them. “It was a pleasure to see you today.”
    “And you. I trust your arm is feeling somewhat better.”
    “It is, a bit. I believe dancing may have done it some good after all.”
    Perhaps he caught the severe look on Clara’s face, or maybe he really did need to leave, but he raised his cap and took a step away. “Have a peaceful Sunday, and I’ll see you again sometime. Mrs. Wilcox. Mr. Wilcox.”
    “He seems a very impertinent young man,” Clara remarked as they headed in the opposite direction. “He certainly acts like he knows you.”
    “He escorted me home last night when the pastor got called away,” Tabitha explained. “We talked a bit, and we did get to know each other.”
    “And does he realize the pastor has set his sights on you?”
    Tabitha resisted the urge to sigh, although it was very strong. “The pastor knows that I’m not interested in marriage right now.”
    “And I think you’re being foolish beyond words.” Clara’s mouth set in a firm line, and the rest of the walk home was in utter silence.
    ***
    Tabitha waited until Clara was busy in the kitchen, then tiptoed into the post office and retrieved the bundle of letters from the drawer where she’d placed them. Seeing Thomas that morning had shattered her resolve, and now she believed she had to take action. She had just slipped the letters under her pillow when she heard Clara calling, and she went down to set the table.
    Herbert lowered himself into his chair with a thunk. His skin was more of a natural color, but he seemed weak, and Tabitha wished she had any notion what was wrong. She doubted he’d go see Dr. Gideon—Herbert was a very private man, and one who didn’t believe in doctors much anyway.
    “How are you feeling, Herbert?” Tabitha ventured.
    “Fine. Just fine.” His reply was almost a bark, and she winced. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t going to discuss it. Stubborn man.
    “Pastor Reed asked to come by this afternoon,” she said a moment later, trying to break the silence that hung over the room like a cloud.
    Clara looked up from her bowl of soup, a spark of interest in her eyes. “Coming to court, is he?”
    “No. He and I are just friends.” Perhaps if she kept saying it, eventually someone would believe her.
    “Foolish.” Clara went back to eating, and Tabitha reached for the butter. Why had she come back to town, exactly? Oh, that’s right—she’d had nowhere else to go. She wondered if she should have stayed in Massachusetts for another few weeks and advertised as a governess or something. Surely that would have been better than this.
    Herbert took one more spoonful of soup, then pushed back from the table. “Going to bed,” he mumbled before shuffling away.
    Clara didn’t acknowledge that he’d spoken.
    Tabitha weighed her options, then decided that if she didn’t say something, she’d most likely regret it. “Do you think Herbert should see a doctor?”
    “You know how he is. Wouldn’t see a doctor if he chopped off his leg and needed it sewn back on.”
“I do know. It’s just . . . this seems serious.”
    Clara plopped her spoon into her bowl. “It is serious, missy. His health, our debts, our entire situation. Don’t think I haven’t been trying to fix it,