Hannah's Dream (26 page)

Now, with time passed and the reality of her situation settling in, she was glad she knew there was a way to limit her family to one child.  She could devote herself to them by showing them they could be anything they wanted to be and by teaching them to paint, draw, sculpt -- whatever they wanted to learn.  They would paint together on the little hill and she would tell them of her life in New Jersey and of making sand castles on the beach.  They would visit the museums in Denver and stare in wonder at the magnificent colors the artists used to bring their paintings to life.  She didn't notice that her "husband" seemed absent when she daydreamed this way.

It was harder for Hannah to imagine a man she would want to marry.  The ranch was full of men, but none of them, save one, made her heart soar.  Becky had come right out and asked her if she liked Adam, and Hannah had balked at the idea.  Then she went to her room and watched him from her bedroom window as he stood by the pump and took off his shirt, washed himself, then went to James' for supper.  She hadn't meant to stare, but he looked good.  She felt disappointed when he walked away.

That was the moment she understood that she was attracted to him and now her interactions with him had grown awkward.  After that, she had to admit to herself that she had felt superior toward him, that his comments had annoyed her because she felt he was beneath her.  One day following the understanding, as she stood in Becky's kitchen pulling the gizzards out of a chicken, she realized she and Adam
were
equals.  When he came to dinner and ate that chicken, she noticed how he looked at her across the table and knew that he felt awkward, too.

But Adam was a simple man.  He was content to be what he was and had no ambition to be anything else.  A man like that would expect her to obey him and conform to the role of "wife."  He would make her give up her dreams as if being his mate fulfilled her.  She knew all this even though she'd never had a conversation with Adam that didn't end with her stomping off in indignation.

Sometime during the last week or so, Hannah had concluded that even though she found him attractive, Adam wasn't the man for her.  He was kind, yes, and she believed he'd be true, but she had bound herself to a man she didn't feel passionate about once before and she wouldn't settle for less again.

When she walked outside to leave for town, Adam was standing by the wagon.  He had hitched James' horse, Ulysses, to the front and was holding the reins.  Hannah hadn't expected to see him and was taken aback by his presence.  She stood on the porch and looked at him.  She couldn't think of anything to say.  She didn't understand her reaction because she had decided he wasn't the man for her.  Why did he continue to affect her this way?

"Mornin'," he said.

"Morning," she replied.

The word caught in her throat.  Why was her throat so dry?  She turned and went back into the house.  She went to the kitchen and poured water from the pitcher Becky kept full into a glass and drank it.

"Don't drink too much or you'll have to visit the public privy," Becky said.  She wrinkled her nose in disdain.

"I'll be fine," Hannah said.  "I just had a frog in my throat."

As she left the kitchen, Jimmy bounded down the stairs.

"Uncle James said I could come," he said.

"Good.  You need a haircut," she said.

"I do not," Jimmy said.

"But you'll get one anyway because I said so."

"You know what, Hannah?  Since we moved here, you've become mean."

He stomped away, leaving her to ponder his words.  Had she become mean?  She went to the porch and saw Jimmy with Adam.  He was playfully punching Adam.  Adam was pretending to punch him back.  Jimmy was laughing until he turned and saw Hannah.  His smile faded and he climbed into the wagon.  Adam's face looked sad, too, as though he had been caught stealing a cookie from his mother's pantry.

She smiled.  She walked over and as she climbed into the wagon, Adam put out his hand to help her.  The urge to tell him she could do it herself rose up inside, but she stifled it and took his hand.

"Thank you, Adam," she said.

"You're welcome," he replied.

She looked at him and saw a small smile creasing his lips.  He truly was a nice man.  She also felt a stirring in her stomach.  He held his hat in his hand.  In the bright sunlight, his hair had red highlights.  She had never noticed it before.

He usually wears his hat,
she thought.  
That must be why I didn't see it.

"I wanted to tell you," he said, "that I liked that painting in your Ma's parlor."

Marian had hung Jimmy's painting of the ocean in the parlor.  Hannah didn't know Jimmy didn't want anyone to know he was a painter.  Jimmy jumped up.

"Hannah paints good," he said.

"But it's not..."

"She's the best painter in the world," Jimmy said loudly.

Jimmy was standing behind her and she turned her head to look at him.  His look said, please don't say anything.

"Yes, the parlor, I remember now," she said.  "I'm glad you liked it."

"I felt like I was there," Adam said.  "Is that what it's like in New Jersey?"

"It is where we lived," Hannah said.  "We were right near the ocean."

"I've never seen the ocean," Adam said.

"It's big," Jimmy said.

"I'm sure it is, partner," Adam replied.

James came out of his house and walked to the wagon.  He climbed in next to Hannah and took the reins.

"Anything more we need?" he asked Adam.

"Nope.  You got the list?"

"Yup.  We'll be back before supper."

Adam watched the wagon pull away and stayed until they were out of sight.  He loved seeing Hannah's hair in the sunlight.  He was glad she wasn't one of those girls who wore a hat all the time.  She had such beautiful hair.

Chapter 45

High Bend was not a big town, but it had a train station.  Goods came in from Denver regularly so if you needed something, you could order it from Healy's Dry Goods and have it within a week.  Hannah had ordered some new paint brushes.  Hers were starting to shed, leaving pieces of brush on her canvas.  She also ordered some canvases.

A week ago, James had surprised Marian by giving her half the money he had inherited from their parents.  He felt it was the right thing to do.  Their father had arranged Marian's marriage to Randall Dawes, and both men had left her high and dry.  Being with Marian again had revived James's affection for her.  She was a decent, kind woman who didn't deserve her fate.

She had refused to take the money, saying it was his and she would be fine.  She spoke out of pride, but James soon persuaded her to accept, if for no other reason than to provide for her children's needs.

"You can buy Hannah that dress for the Social," he said.

"How did you know about that?" Marian asked.

"I saw her looking at it in Healy's."

Marian had set up an account with Healy's and now if the children went with James to town, they could buy what they needed without her presence.  She trusted their judgment.

She also gave them each ten silver dollars for their pocket and purse.  She gave Becky one hundred dollars, which she also politely refused.

"Put it aside for your old age," Marian told her, and Becky, seeing the wisdom of her words, finally accepted the money and put it under her mattress.  She didn't trust banks.

Hannah loved to walk into Healy's because Mrs. Healy made scented soaps and displayed them at the front of the store.  They smelled of roses, lavender, and vanilla.  The scent was strong as you walked in the front door, and Hannah would rush to the display, pick one up, and hold it under her nose.  Now she could afford to buy one, too!

"Good morning, Mr. Healy," she said as she approached the counter.

Mr. Healy was a tall, thin man.  His face resembled that of a basset hound and he always looked sad.  His eyes, however, belied his appearance and twinkled when he saw Hannah.

"I got them things you ordered," he said.

"Will you hold them here until we're done shopping?" she asked.

"Will do.  You look real pretty today, Miss Hannah," he said.

She smiled.  "Thank you, Mr. Healy."

"I bet you'll be going to the dance," he said.  "My wife ordered new dresses for the gals in town."

"Are they in the back?" Hannah asked.

"Yup, straight back."

She smiled and turned away.  She walked right into Mrs. Healy, who was glaring at her husband.  He was a bit loose with the females who came into the store, and she always had to keep her eye on him.

"I'm sorry," Hannah said.

She went around Mrs. Healy and walked away.  She could see the dresses and made a beeline for them.  The one she had admired was still there -- an ivory cotton dress with yellow rosebuds and green leaves embroidered on fabric.  It was a fine cotton and the fabric had a sheen that made it look like silk.  James came up to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you gonna buy it this time?" he said.

"I haven't been asked to the dance," she said.

"Everyone goes, Hannah.  You don't need to be asked."

"I guess I could buy it in anticipation of someone asking."

James sighed.  "You don't need an escort.  You'll be with me and your mother."

There was no shame in going to the social with James and her mother.  Hannah wanted to go, and in this dress, she might meet the man of her dreams.  There was also a chance Dr. Wallace would be there, and since she already knew him, he might ask her to dance.

She took the dress off the rack and put it over her arm.

"Good," James said.  "Now I can get on with my errands."

He left her and went to the other side of the store, where Mr. Healy kept the tools.  Hannah headed to the counter.  She had forgotten to give Mr. Healy the list Becky sent with her.  She placed the dress on the counter and reached into her handbag for the list.  She handed it to Mr. Healy.

"Becky needs those things," she said.

"I'll fetch 'em right away."

He left her at the counter with Mrs. Healy.  Mrs. Healy ran her hand over the dress.

"This one is dear," she said.

"Mama has an account here," Hannah said.  "She told me to buy whatever I wanted."

She didn't like Mrs. Healy.  She was tall, like her husband, but gaunt and wrinkled.  She always looked as though she'd just bitten into a pickle.

"Must be nice to have a rich uncle," she said.

Hannah chose to ignore her and walked away.  She went to the shelf of books that ran along the side of the store and searched the titles for something new.  She'd grown tired of dime novels, but they were cheap and it was what she could afford.  Now she could pay for quality.

She spied a copy of Pride and Prejudice on the top shelf.  She had read other books by Jane Austen and liked her style of writing.  She reached for the book but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't reach it, and suddenly an arm reached over her and pulled it from the shelf.

"Is this what you wanted?"

She turned and saw Owen Wallace standing behind her.

"Yes, that's the one.  Thank you."

He handed her the book and tipped his hat.

"I was hoping to see you again," he said.

"Oh?" she replied.

"I was wondering if you had an escort for the social."

"I haven't accepted an invitation yet."

"Then perhaps you'll consider letting me escort you."

Hannah looked into his handsome face.  She imagined herself entering the ballroom on his arm.

"I would be honored," she said.  "But I'd also suggest you ask my uncle.  He's standing at the counter."

She began to walk to the counter and he stayed by her side.  He smelled of bay rum.  He was much taller than Hannah.

James had paid for his purchases and turned to look for Hannah.  He saw her walking toward him with a tall man.

"Uncle James, this is Dr. Wallace, the man who helped Louise."

James and Owen shook hands.

"I heard all about your heroics, doctor," James said.

"All in a day's work," Owen replied.

Hannah went to the counter and paid for her items.

"Your things are in your wagon," Mr. Healy said.  "Your brushes and such."

"Thank you, Mr. Healy."

"Sir," Owen said to James.  "I'd like to escort Hannah to the social."

"I have no objections if that's all right with her."

James looked at Hannah and she nodded.

"Then it's settled," James said.  He thought for a moment.  "Why don't you come up to the ranch this Sunday after church.  We'll all have dinner at Hannah's ma's house.  It would give us a chance to get to know you."

"I'll be there," Owen said.

"We'll see you Sunday," James said.

"Will I see you in church?" Hannah asked Owen.

"Yes, I attend every Sunday."

She smiled.  "I'll see you then."

She followed James to the wagon and Owen helped her climb onto the seat.  He stood by her and the top of his head was at her eye level.  She smiled and waited for James.  Then she remembered Jimmy.

"Where's Jimmy?" she asked James.

"He went to the drug store," he replied.  "We have to go fetch him."

They pulled away and Owen waved.  Hannah waved, too.  James parked the wagon in front of the drugstore, where Jimmy waited outside.  He was sitting on the wooden porch holding his stomach.

"Get in, boy," James said.

Jimmy got up and walked to the wagon.  He took his time climbing inside so Hannah turned to look at him.

"You didn't go to the barber I see," she said.  Jimmy looked gray.  Are you all right?"

"I feel sick.  I had a cherry phosphate."

"Well, one shouldn't make you feel sick."

"I had three."

"Oh, Jimmy!" she cried.

"Keep your head over the side of the wagon, boy," James said as they drove away.

Chapter 46

Grady Kay was as green as a fresh-cut sapling, but when James Hughes took him on, the sixteen-year-old proved an eager, if not terribly smart, hand.  He did whatever Tom Beasley told him to do.