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to feed a man. Pink suffused her face. "Oh, of
course not." Because putting it back would be terrible etiquette, she
grabbed the large cornbread and set it beside the one on her plate. Now she had enough for a man.
    Brant
placed the pot back on the stove and sat beside her. He said, "I wouldn't
mind relieving you of that cornbread, Miz Abby."
    "Yes,
please, help yourself," she said gratefully.
    Miss
Pitts continued, "You haven't answered my question, Miz Vaughn. What do
you think of our way of life? Not quite up to your accustomed standards?"
    Abigail
set her spoon down and her shoulder rubbed against Brant's because of Mrs.
Pitts' chubby body on the other side of her. The contact started her stomach
swirling with butterflies and she stuttered, "I-I." She glanced at
the smirk on Luke's face and knew her answer was very important. Inhaling, she
said, "In this wild frontier, as you call it, I find the
countryside lovely and the inhabitants even lovelier. It's like being suddenly
dropped into one of my favorite adventure novels. Perhaps you would feel the
same if you moved east. Of course, after a time, you would fit in quite nicely,
just as I will here."
    Abigail
glanced at Jenny's widened eyes and then at Luke's slightly opened mouth. She
couldn't make herself look at Brant. Had she been unforgivably short with his
childhood friend? She felt a slight shaking of his body. Like he was trying not
to laugh.
    Miss
Pitts narrowed her eyes.
    Mrs.
Pitts broke the silence. "The MacGregors are having a barn-raising on
Friday. Are you planning on attending?" She glanced from Brant to Abigail,
and back to Brant.
    "I
surely am. Mick MacGregor helped me raise my barn. I was right sorry to hear
his burned down."
    The
rest of the meal continued with small talk and an undercurrent of unease.
Abigail was glad when the guests decided to leave. She watched Miss Pitts pull
on her gloves and then place a hand on Brant's arm, giving him a look that held
her heart in her eyes. "I look forward to seeing you at the barn-raising.
I still remember the first time we danced when we were fourteen. Do you
remember?"
    Brant
looked uncomfortable. "Yes, I do. That was the first time I got the
courage to ask a girl to dance and the first time I danced with Molly, too.
But, that was a long time ago."
    "Some
things can never be forgotten," Lola Pitts said sadly. The longing in her
eyes made Abigail look away. Her previous irritation was replaced by sympathy
for this woman who obviously pined for Brant.

Chapter 7:  Barn-Raising
     
    Brant poured the final bucket of hot water into
the tub that had been moved into Abby's room. He looked at the steaming water
and memories of beautiful encounters with Molly flooded him. Without a word, he
swiftly stepped from her room and shut the door, feeling an almost overwhelming
desire to cry like a baby. Glancing up, he saw Luke watching him, a knowing
look reflected in his eyes before he quickly turned and started up the ladder
to the loft, his book in tow. "Goodnight Pa," he said, without
attitude.
    Shocked by his son's goodnight wish, he replied
softly, "Goodnight, son."
    Abby entered the room from Jenny's bedroom.
"They're all tucked in. I guess I'll say goodnight, too. Thank you for
preparing the bath."
    A few minutes later, the sound of muffled
splashing had Brant gritting his teeth. He needed to escape the cabin. Stepping
into the lovely night, crickets greeted him with their cacophony and owls with
their hoots. The moon hung large and bright and a soft breeze ruffled his hair.
Walking toward the corral, he paused and reflected on his day.
    Lola's visit had been surprising. During their
last conversation a few weeks ago, he'd tried to gently make her understand
that there would never be anything between them. She'd become upset and said
some unkind words before begging him to reconsider. He knew she'd always had
feelings for him but he'd never felt the same thing. God knows he'd tried to
after Molly's death so his