Chapter 1

Chapter One of Abigail

Abigail stood at the edge of the woods, gazing into its depths. She had never before been inside, at the request of her father, but her wandering and adventurous mind couldn’t help but wonder what it was like there.  Tilting her head, she looked at the tops of the trees, with their branches hanging down low. The leaves were green and crisp with spring, and they seemed to dance in the breeze, catching the light of the sun and shining like stars. The hem of her dress took flight in the wind too. She loved the feeling of the fabric flapping against her legs, so she herself danced like the leaves and twirled in circles, her arms open wide. She smiled toward the sun as it warmed her face.             

                “Abby,” her father called from inside the house. “Come inside for lunch.”

                Abigail longed to stay and dance at the edge of the forbidden woods, but her stomach began growling at the thought of food, and she hurried inside with all the speed she could conjure.

                As she burst through the kitchen door, Abigail was stopped short by a tall, busty woman standing in the doorway.

                “Wipe your feet, child,” Bernice warned, her voice that of a tired old woman. “I just mopped the floor.” Bernice’s hands sat on her hips, the place where they most often were found. As the only person left working for her father, Bernice had to take most of the housework in her own hands, helped only occasionally by Abigail and her two siblings.

                “Sorry, Bernie,” Abby said, trying to sound sincere. She wiped her feet against the rug and scurried off to the kitchen.

                “There you are, darling! Come and sit down, lunch is ready.” Abigail’s father said with a smile. “I hope you worked up an appetite.”

                Abigail’s father, a single widow, had the appearance of a man much older than he. His hair was graying and his eyes and lips had wrinkles at their corners. He was much taller than young Abigail, as she could only reach up to his hips before having to stand on her toes to give him a kiss.

Abigail took her place at the table next to her brother, Robert. At fourteen years old, he was in his last year of secondary school and would soon be moving on to work. He gave her a small smile and pulled a silly face, making her giggle. Robert was as handsome as her father was when he was young, and working outside in the yard has trimmed him into a fit young man.

While her father put a plate of food in front of her. A cup of piping hot tomato and herb soup, some boiled carrots from the garden, and a treat: A thick slice of bread with butter spread over it. Abigail’s father noted her joy at this discovery, and said “there was a little extra income this week, love. Enjoy.” She smiled a toothy grin at her father and took a hearty bite of the bread, savoring the rich, buttery flavor.        

                “And,” her father said, sitting down to his own lunch, “I have another surprise for you. Uncle Cort is coming to visit.”

                Abigail gasped , her eyes shining with delight. “Uncle Cort?”

                “That’s right. He’s on leave from the service and is going to be staying with us for a week or two. Now, I will be working when he comes by, so you two need to make sure that he feels at home, do you understand?” Abigail and Robert nodded in agreement.

                After Abigail’s mother passed away when Abigail was just an infant, her father had been working night and day to provide for his family as his wife’s savings became thin. Before, they had lived as comfortably as any other family in the neighborhood �" they had maids and cooks, and their house was always filled with fresh flowers from the grocer. But as time went by and money became tighter, Mr. Murray had to let go of some of the things he and his wife had treasured. He fired two of his maids and his cook, and employed the help of his two older children �" Candace and Robert, to help with the household chores. They were reluctant at first, as they had never had to lift a finger in their young lives, but soon they seemed to welcome the idea of helping their father keep the family afloat. When Abigail became older, she too assumed some of the smaller responsibilities �" like sweeping with a dustpan and collecting eggs from the chicken coop, and these were tasks she enjoyed.

                The last possession to be sold was Abigail’s mother’s prized steed, Stasha. Even though the horse was the last tangible thing that belonged to her beloved mother, Abigail’s father was able to get three hundred dollars for it, a price that was unprecedented in the market. They ate very well that week �" hearty soups and tender meat filled their plates and their stomachs. But now the soup would have to do.