Woman of Grace (15 page)

She knew it was Evan, restless and upset no doubt over their unfinished discussion. Hannah resolved to speak to him about it tomorrow. It wasn’t fair to leave things hanging. Though she refused to agree to become his wife just because he thought it was time, she didn’t wish Evan to view her hesitancy as a permanent rejection either.

“Well, I reckon I should take this silence,” Devlin observed wryly, “as a positive sign. If you’d definitely made up your mind to refuse my offer, you surely would’ve told me by now.”

Still preoccupied with thoughts of Evan, Hannah turned to look at him. “Whatever are you talking about?”

Devlin took a long drag on his pipe. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you did come here to inform me whether you’d agree to care for my children and house, didn’t you?”

Pipe smoke enveloped her in an aromatic, heady cloud. “Yes.” She nodded, relieved to find her focus again. “First, though, I need to know your mind in this a bit more. I mean, why me?”

A frown furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, why you?”

“Even if you’re displeased with Mrs. Ashley, you could always find some other woman to take on the job. Some decent, well-bred woman with respectable references.”

“My children don’t want a decent, well-bred woman. They want you.”

Hannah didn’t know what to say to that, or even how to interpret it. Was Devlin joking or just stating the bald truth? “Am I to take that as an insult or a compliment?”

He sighed, lowered his head, and paused to massage his temples. “Both, I reckon.” Devlin looked up. “I’m not a man given to fancy words, Hannah. And I’ve said just about all I know how to say. I’m sorry for how I treated you. Sorry and ashamed for how I used you. No woman deserves to be treated like that.”

“It was a business arrangement, nothing more. We both got something out of the deal.”

Her flat, emotionless statement surprised him. Knowing how tight Sadie Fleming was with the money her girls made, what had Hannah truly achieved from selling her body but a bare-bones means of survival? In an attempt to shame him from his cruel attacks on her, Abby had shared part of Hannah’s story with him. Yet here she now sat, speaking of her days of prostitution as if they were of little import.

“In the end, I wonder if either of us got much of anything that really mattered,” he said at long last. “None of that’s important anymore, though. All I know or care about is that my children need you. Martha Ashley can’t meet their needs. The woman’s got no maternal instincts. If she were a man, she’d have made an impressive general. But my children aren’t a bunch of little soldiers. They need a mother’s love.”

“And you think
I’m
capable of providing that? A mother’s love, I mean?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think so.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and leaned back in the swing. “Well, forgive my stupidity, but I still cannot fathom whatever made you change your mind about me, unless it was sheer desperation.”

“My children love you, Hannah.” Devlin leaped from the swing and wheeled about to sit on the porch rail, facing her. “They’re a lot more important to me than my anger at you. Besides,” he added grudgingly, “if the truth be told, I’m beginning to realize I haven’t been giving you a fair shake.”

Once again, Hannah didn’t know whether to be happy or mad. Devlin MacKay could be the most infuriating, patronizing, yet surprisingly engaging of men, especially when he sat there like that, a puzzled twist to his mouth, a boyishly bewildered look in his eyes, spouting words she knew must taste as bitter as gall. Something urged her not to let him off too easily, but another part of her not only felt pity for his plight, but understood.

“You hurt me, Devlin. I don’t want that to happen again.” Though the admission was wrenched from her against her better judgment, she was glad she had finally said it. Now, let him deal with the real reasons for her hesitation about working for him again.

With his hands gripping the porch railing and his shoulders hunched, Devlin looked down. “I’m sorry for that, too, Hannah.” He shot her a quick glance. “I’m not saying I’ve got it all worked out yet—my feelings about you, I mean. I can’t honestly say I ever will. One thing is sure. It’s going to take me more time.”

“So, in the meanwhile, I should expect further snide comments and inconsiderate behavior, is that it?”

“No.” He shook his head with a fierce vehemence. “You’d be doing me a big favor. This time I’m not fool enough to turn my nose up at it. All I’m saying is I still have things about us I have to work out.”

She drew in a long, deep breath, then made a decision. “Well, I suppose we could give it a try. But on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“This time you pay me, the same as you paid the Widow Ashley.”

He grinned then. “Getting to be a regular little businesswoman, are you?”

Hannah nodded. “A woman has to look out for herself, and if
she
was worth paying, so am I. Besides, if we keep things on a purely businesslike basis, it might work out all right between us.”

Devlin wasn’t so sure about that, but he shrugged and replied, “Couldn’t hurt to try.” After all, he certainly had nothing more to lose.

9

But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain.

1 Corinthians 15:10

Two days later, fortified with a week’s severance pay, the Widow Ashley was packed and ready to depart Culdee Creek. As the woman awaited a ranch hand to bring up the buckboard and load her possessions, she spared no effort spewing her pent-up bile on Hannah, who had thought to make a quick trip to her room to pick up some clean diapers before returning to Devlin’s house.

“You vile, conniving little hussy!” the woman raged, shaking her fist in Hannah’s face. “You meant for this to happen all along, didn’t you? And after I took you into my confidence and trusted you to help me with the children! But I should’ve known you secretly wished to warm Devlin’s bed, and couldn’t dare risk a decent woman winning his heart and marrying him. How would that have made you look by comparison?”

Hannah had hoped to avoid the widow this morning. After hearing the buckboard move past the front yard of the main house, she had mistakenly thought it safe to leave Abby watching the children for a few minutes. Unfortunately, the rig had just been leaving to head around to the bunkhouse. Even now, she could hear it pulling up outside.

There was no chance of avoiding a confrontation now, though. She had all but walked into the lion’s den. Still, if there was any way to prevent this from degenerating further, Hannah meant to do so.

“You’re mistaken, Mrs. Ashley,” she said with quiet emphasis, taking a few steps back as she spoke. “I’ve in no way set my cap for Devlin. I’d thought you were aware of my ongoing involvement with Evan MacKay.”

“Did I say you wanted to wed Devlin?” The ebony-haired woman gave a disparaging laugh. “I hardly think so. Women like you use men to their purpose. Stupid, lust-driven beasts that they are, a smart woman of loose morals frequently has the advantage over a decent, God-fearing one.”

Hannah bit her tongue lest she point out that a decent, God-fearing woman wouldn’t callously use innocent children to win a husband. There was nothing she could say, at any rate, that would convince the widow otherwise. Best to fetch what she had come for and be on her way.

Martha Ashley, however, apparently wasn’t finished with her yet. She followed Hannah into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind them.

At the sound of the door closing, Hannah whirled around. “This is unseemly behavior …” Her voice faded as the other woman, rage in her eyes, advanced on her.

Then the door opened behind the widow. Devlin stood there. He took one look at Hannah’s face and the way the older woman all but loomed over her, and scowled. “Your things are loaded, Mrs. Ashley,” he growled, anger glittering in his eyes. “It’s time to depart.”

With a gasp the woman whirled about, her hands fluttering wildly as she struggled to straighten her dress and pat down her hair. “Oh, thank you so much,” she exclaimed, smiling brightly. “I was just apprising Hannah of some last minute household details and wishing her a fond farewell.” She extended a hand to him. “But I wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting on the likes of little old me, so if you’d be so kind as to escort me out …?”

Devlin shot Hannah a final, searching look. She managed a faint smile and nod.

“After you, madam.” His expression now shuttered, he offered the widow his arm.

Without a backward glance at Hannah—who assumed she was no longer of any importance now that Devlin was available—Martha Ashley flounced from the room, gathered her son from his cradle in the parlor, and stomped out of the bunkhouse. Heaving a sigh of relief, Hannah sank, weak-kneed, into her rocker. Her palms were clammy, and her heart still pounded like she had just run a race, but she was all right. She was all right, and the Widow Ashley was finally gone.

After a time the buckboard pulled away. Still, Hannah didn’t move from the rocker. Then a knock tentatively sounded on the frame of her bedroom door. She looked up. Devlin had returned.

Remorse etched his rugged features. “I’m sorry about that. She had no cause to turn her anger on you. I’m the one who hired and fired her.”

Hannah glanced at him, then resumed her rocking. “Most times a woman who feels she’s lost a man blames it on another woman, rather than the man. I’m used to it.”

“Ella never blamed you for my infidelity.”

“No, she never did, did she?” Hannah smiled sadly. “But Ella wasn’t like most women.”

“No. No, she wasn’t.”

He looked suddenly pale beneath his tan. Hannah frowned. “Are you all right, Devlin?”

“Yeah. I’ve just been feeling hot and cold all morning, but it comes and goes, and then I feel all right for a spell again.” He raked an unsteady hand through his hair. “Maybe, once I get the men started on the calf branding, I’ll go lay down for a spell.”

Hannah shot him a dubious look. “Well, I’ll be back up to the house in a few minutes.”

“Yeah, sure. You do that.” Devlin nodded vaguely, then turned and walked away.

Once Devlin finally lay down after the noon meal, he found he couldn’t get back up. He could barely even find the strength to pull off his boots. His head swam; his whole body ached so badly he felt as if someone was trying to wring him dry, and he became hot with fever. By the time Hannah looked in on him after nursing and changing Bonnie, he knew he was sick.

As she leaned over him and put the back of her hand to his forehead, he licked his lips. “I … I don’t know why … but I feel like I’ve wrestled with some steer and got … the short end of it.”

Hannah straightened, a tiny furrow forming between her brows. “You’re really hot, Devlin. Let me get you something cool to drink.”

He made a motion as if to wave her away. “Yeah, get me some water. I’ll be fine … once I sleep this off.”

As she stepped back from the bed, his lids grew heavy. The next thing he knew, she was back with a cup of water.

“Here, take a drink,” she said.

Greedily, Devlin swallowed the entire contents of the cup, then pushed it aside. “I … I need to get up. There’s work to do.”

Hannah placed a firm hand on his shoulder, pinning him to the bed. “Oh no you don’t. You’re in no condition to be going anywhere.”

Any other time Devlin would’ve set her straight about her high-handed manner. Just because they had agreed on a business arrangement didn’t mean she was suddenly queen of the roost. But the thought of talking, much less arguing, was suddenly more than he could contemplate. His lids were just too heavy to keep open …