Woman of Grace (19 page)

“What have we here? Brody been hitting the bottle a mite too early in the day again?” The tall, chestnut-haired sheriff helped Devlin unload Brody from his shoulder and carry the unconscious man across the street to his office.

Devlin halted on the boardwalk outside the jail. “Help me get him inside,” he demanded tersely. “Then we can talk.”

Hannah hurried up onto the boardwalk to join the men, then followed as they hefted their inert burden into the jail. After laying Brody on a nearby cot, Devlin walked back to close the door on the curious onlookers. When they continued to stare inside, he also pulled the roller blinds on the two windows fronting the door.

“Nosy old coots and biddies,” Devlin muttered as he rejoined Hannah and the two men standing by the cot, removed his Stetson, and wiped his brow.

“Can’t much blame ’em,” Jake said with a chuckle. “It isn’t often Grand View sees such excitement, especially in broad daylight.” His expression sobered. “So, tell me, Devlin. What happened for you to end up with Brody Gerard slung over your shoulder?”

The foreman scowled. “Found him trying to drag Hannah down some alley. Did the first thing that came to mind. I knocked him out.”

“Well, don’t that beat all?” Scratching his beard-shadowed jaw, Jake stared down at Brody for a long moment.

“Why was he trying to drag you off, Hannah?” Noah Starr asked, meeting her gaze with a concerned look.

Devlin’s gaze swung to his housekeeper. In all the confusion, he had failed to ask that question. “Yeah, why, Hannah?”

She swallowed hard, then met the three men’s inquiring glances. “I’m not absolutely certain,” she began hesitantly, “but I think he meant to take me back to Sadie’s. He said,”—she blushed crimson—“he said I was too fine a piece to waste on Culdee Creek, and that he was just going to have to do something about that.”

Renewed anger, mixed with a strange possessiveness, filled Devlin. “Well, that does it,” he snarled. “Gerard is either going to be run out on a rail or stand trial. We don’t need his kind in these parts.”

Jake Whitmore cleared his throat. “It’s not that easy, Devlin. I can’t legally hold him without formal charges.” He looked at Hannah. “Is that what you’d like to do, Miss Cutler? Press charges?”

Before she could reply, Devlin cut in. “Of course she wants to press charges. Didn’t I already all but say that?”

The sheriff didn’t even look at Devlin, but instead exchanged a troubled glance with Noah. “The decision is Miss Cutler’s, Devlin, not yours.” As he spoke, his gaze skittered off Devlin’s then came to rest, once more, on Hannah. “Before you answer,” Jake said, “I think you should consider all the aspects of pressing charges.”

“Go on,” she urged uneasily.

“I can’t hold Brody for more than a few hours, unless you want me to charge him. Then I can jail him until he can be brought to trial for assault and attempted kidnapping.” A decidedly uncomfortable expression crossed his face. “However, considering your past … er … profession and history of involvement with Brody Gerard, those charges might be thrown out when it does come to trial. And in the meanwhile, town sentiment might be stirred up even worse than it already is …”

When Hannah’s shoulders slumped in defeat, something snapped in Devlin. “So what you’re saying,” he said, his voice gone low and husky in his anger, “is that Hannah’s past will be held against her for the rest of her life. That no matter what, she’s never going to be believed or protected from scum like Gerard? That she’s fair game for any lowlife who wants to attack her?”

An irritated look flared in Jake’s eyes. “You’re jumping to some mighty high-handed conclusions, MacKay. I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s the truth of things. You’re a fool if you can’t see it.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen.” Noah stepped quickly between the two men. “Both of you have brought up valid points but, in the end, the decision must lie with Hannah.” He turned to her. “Whatever you decide, I’ll stand by you.”

“I will, too,” Devlin offered gruffly, feeling a bit miffed that Noah had beaten him to the punch.

Hannah managed a tremulous smile. “Thank you both for your support. It’s deeply appreciated.” Her gaze swung to Jake’s. “Sheriff Whitmore, however, has made a valid if painful point. Perhaps, Sheriff, if you could just have a long, hard talk with Brody, it’d be enough to make him stay clear of me from now on. And tell him,” she added with firm emphasis, “that next time I
will
press charges.”

Devlin moved to stand beside her. “Yeah, and tell Gerard that next time
I
won’t go so easy on him either.”

“Can’t say as how I’d blame you.” Jake Whitmore’s mouth quirked wryly. “Not that I’m condoning violence, of course,” he hastened to add when Noah shot him a reproachful look. “I was just meaning to say that I’d understand.”

“Well,”—Devlin grasped Hannah’s elbow—“guess we’ll be heading on out then. Looks like a storm’s brewing. We need to get back to the ranch before it breaks.”

Jake nodded to Hannah. “Nice to see you again, ma’am, even if it couldn’t be under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Good-bye, Hannah,” Noah added, smiling gently. “If you ever need to talk …”

As Hannah nodded and turned to Devlin, thunder rumbled in the distance. “I think we’d better be on our way.”

Devlin quickly bid his farewells, then slapped his Stetson on his head and escorted Hannah from the jail. With nothing left to gawk at and the weather changing rapidly, most folk had dispersed and headed elsewhere. The few still lingering outside eyed them with frank curiosity, but said nothing.

Devlin soon had Hannah back at the buggy and seated inside. As she tied her sunbonnet snugly, he climbed in, gathered up the reins, then paused to gaze at the sky. “It’s going to be close, but I think we can make it home in time.”

At his comment, Hannah looked up. While they had been in the jailhouse, the clouds had turned gunmetal gray and were now churning furiously. Fitful gusts of wind blew through the streets, kicking up miniature dust cyclones. It suddenly seemed cold, and the scent of rain was in the air.

“Well, we’d better head on out, then.” She grabbed hold of the buggy seat arm. “Can’t say as how I want to spend anymore time in town today anyway.”

Devlin shot her a quick, searching glance then clucked at the horse to set out. As they drove out of town, neither spoke. Hannah supposed Devlin was intent on controlling the horse in the increasingly windy weather. And she didn’t know what to say, or how to say it. Her emotions confused, she once again hovered on the verge of tears.

“You know”—Devlin’s voice pierced the tumultuous muddle in her mind—“I meant what I said back there.”

Puzzled, Hannah twisted in her seat to face him more fully. “What? I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite get that.”

“I meant it when I said I’d stand by you. It’s not fair that some folk hold your past against you, while Brody Gerard can do whatever he likes and get away scot-free.” His mouth tightened; a muscle leaped in his jaw. “The man is spoiling for trouble. And if he doesn’t watch himself, I just might be the one to give him a good dose of it.”

The wind swirled down then, sending Devlin’s Stetson flying. With a disgusted oath, he halted the buggy, handed the reins to Hannah, and climbed down to chase the runaway hat. She cast a nervous glance at the ominously blackening clouds overhead. If the weather hadn’t been worsening so rapidly, she would’ve almost laughed at Devlin’s comical efforts.

A trace of moisture grazed her cheek, then another and another. Thunder sounded increasingly nearer. She prepared to yell at Devlin to forget the hat, when he finally lurched forward and grabbed it. “Hurry up,” she called to him. “The storm’s about to break!”

He jumped into the buggy, wedged his hat on the floor between his legs, and grabbed the reins. Slapping the leather lines hard over the horse’s back, he urged the animal into a gallop. They rolled down the hard-packed road leading to Culdee Creek at a breakneck pace and, for a time, Hannah imagined they might make it.

Then the heavens seemed to open. Rain fell, harder and heavier by the second. The torrential downpour quickly drenched them. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud in a deadly display of brilliant energy before reaching downward to strike the earth. As the lightning bursts grew nearer, the cracks of thunder became almost deafening. The horse began to shy and rear in fright, fighting its traces.

Her bonnet now limp around her face, and her dress plastered to her, Hannah grabbed Devlin by the arm. He shot her a taut, worried look. “What?” he yelled over the rushing wind and bedlam of thunderous sound.

“Shouldn’t we stop … somewhere … and find shelter?” she shouted.

He nodded and pointed to a low rock overhang jutting from the side of a hill just thirty yards away. “Over there. We’ll take shelter over there.”

Once more lightning crackled, this time in a stand of cottonwoods less than a hundred yards away. The air sizzled with static, making Hannah’s skin crawl. The horse reared in terror, then slipped in the mud, losing its footing. For a horrible moment, Hannah watched the animal struggle to keep its balance. Then, almost in slow motion, it toppled backward, falling straight toward them.

“Get out! Jump!”

Even as he shouted the command, Devlin pushed her from the carriage. Hannah’s right foot caught on the edge of the buggy, and she felt it twist painfully. There was no opportunity to consider her ankle, though, as she threw out her hands to break her fall. She hit the ground hard.

With a terrified squeal, the horse slammed into the carriage. In its wild thrashing, the animal managed to tip over the conveyance. Hannah was on the side opposite where the horse hit, but as she climbed to her knees in the rain and mud, she realized Devlin had jumped from the other side.

Panic seized her. She started to stand, only to have her right ankle give way. “D-Devlin!” Hannah choked back a gasp of pain as she tried once more to test her ankle. “Devlin, where are you?”

She took a faltering step forward. Again her ankle buckled, and a sharp pain lanced through it. She dropped to her hands and knees.

“H-Hannah?” With a groan, Devlin scrabbled around from the backside of the overturned buggy and stood. Aside from a bloody gash on his forehead and his now mud-soaked clothes, he looked in one piece.

Overhead, thunder rolled, and the rain poured down. She pushed to her knees and lifted her hands to him. “Help me. I twisted my ankle jumping from the carriage.”

At Hannah’s entreaty, Devlin hurried over and helped her to stand. Even with his assistance, though, she quickly discovered she couldn’t walk. With her first pained inhalation, he swung her up into his arms and carried her to the rock overhang.

Hannah closed her eyes and silently willed her heart’s pounding rhythm to ease, her body to cease its trembling. She was but shivering from the cold, she told herself. Her painful ankle combined with the storm’s fury were the sole reasons for her racing pulse. Still, she couldn’t help but clasp her arms about Devlin’s neck a little tighter and lay her head on his shoulder.

“We’re here.” Hannah’s eyes snapped open. They had reached the rocky shelter. Squatting, Devlin laid her down gently. “Can you scoot in there yourself?”

“Y-yes, I think so.”

Gingerly, Hannah crawled in beneath the overhang. It was dry and padded with old leaves and moss. She moved as far inside as she could, then turned.

Even then, Devlin was hurrying away. “Where are you going?” she cried, her fright swelling anew. “The storm … get in here!”

“In a minute,” he called back. “I’ve got to check on the horse.”

An interminable amount of time passed. Repeatedly, lightning struck not very far away. Each strike made Hannah jump, filling her with renewed fear for Devlin’s safety. At long last, though, he returned.

Crawling in beneath the overhang, Devlin scooted close and began to place a blanket around her.

“Luckily, it was wedged between the seat and floor and didn’t get too wet,” he said. “You’re soaked to the skin. The blanket will warm you.”

Until he mentioned it, Hannah hadn’t realized she was still shivering. Already the blanket felt good. “A-and what about y-you?” she asked through chattering teeth. “You n-need to get w-warm, too.”

“I-I’ll be all right.”

Though his voice sounded gruff, Hannah could detect Devlin’s efforts to hide his own shivering. “W-we can sh-share this blanket, you know,” she said.

“No … that wouldn’t be pr-proper.”

Exasperation filled her. “Oh, h-hang propriety! I’m not going to let you freeze to death for the sake of some silly social customs.” She lifted the edge of the blanket closest to him. “Now, get over here, before I th-throw the whole blanket at you!”

He hesitated just an instant, then moved toward her and pulled the blanket over him. Hannah scooted closer to him. “There, that should give you more blanket. You need it more than I, to protect you from the rain and wind.”

He pulled the extra amount of blanket she had provided more snugly over him. “Good thing no one can see us right now,” Devlin whispered. “The tongues would wag and never stop.”

At the image his words stimulated, Hannah giggled. “I know it’s mean of me to laugh, but I couldn’t help seeing Mrs. Ashley’s face, or Mary Sue’s either, for that matter. They’d be so jealous.”

“Don’t know why. I’m no prize.”

Her laughter faded. “Why do you say that? You’re hardworking, honest, and loyal. You’re a good father, and you were a loving husband to Ella.”

“Was I really?” His voice dipped low, resonating with pain. “You, of all people, know what kind of a husband I really was. Not a very good one.”

“So all the love and devotion you gave Ella count for nothing, in light of a short time of unfaithfulness? You now mourn her wholly from guilt, and nothing else?”

“You know it’s not just guilt,” he muttered. “I loved Ella with all my heart. I just didn’t love her enough, or in the way she deserved. If I’d been a better, stronger man, I never would’ve cheated on her.”

“But you did, and she forgave you,” Hannah said softly. “That’s a gift she gave you, Devlin. Because she loved you.” She expelled a long, thoughtful breath. “You were blessed to have had a wife as wonderful as Ella. But she counted you a blessing, too. Her love for you would never have stayed so true and steadfast if you weren’t good to her.”