Woman of Grace (23 page)

Then there were footsteps and hands—strong hands—grasping her and pulling her to her feet. A voice—Devlin’s voice—beckoned, calling her from her downward spiral of confused emotions. He pulled her into his arms, where he sheltered her within the warm bulk of his body.

“Hannah, what’s wrong?” Devlin’s words, fraught with concern, washed over her like a soothing balm. “Did you hurt yourself somehow when you fell?”

For a brief, blessed instant, Hannah savored the sweet protection of his body and the sense of safety and comfort it seemed to provide. Then, on the downdraft of yet another frigid gust, reality returned. She couldn’t trust Devlin in such a matter.

She pushed back from him and hastily swiped away her tears. “I’m okay.” She forced what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I just slipped chasing after my scarf.”

Devlin turned in the direction Hannah gestured. Far down the hill, the knit scarf had blown back in the opposite direction and was now snagged in a low-growing pine tree.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I need to go after it.”

Devlin halted her. “No, you don’t. It’s freezing out here, and you’re not dressed for this weather.”

His frowning gaze took in her cotton dress and lightweight shoes beneath her short wool jacket. “I’ll fetch your scarf. You head to the house and fix us both a hot cup of coffee.”

Devlin turned then and strode down the hill. Still somewhat dazed by all that had transpired in the past minutes, Hannah could only stand there and watch him go.

He was dressed for the weather. His Stetson snugly covered his head; his thick canvas jacket was layered over a wool shirt and neck scarf. Stout leather gloves covered his hands. Yet despite Devlin’s warm attire, his cheeks and nose were already wind-chafed. In comparison, she could only imagine how she must look.

With an exasperated sigh, Hannah headed up to the house. At this particular moment, she wasn’t in any mood for a talk with Devlin, or for a chivalrous rescue. Right now she was so tired of men she didn’t want anything to do with any of them. Somehow, though, recalling the look on Devlin’s face, she doubted she would be given that option.

The kitchen was a cozy haven after the cold outdoors. She hurried to stand by the big cookstove, savoring its radiant heat. After a time, Hannah began to feel warm again.

Pulling off her mittens, she tucked them into her jacket pocket, then shrugged off her jacket and hung it on a peg by the back door. Luckily, she had earlier set a coffeepot of fresh water on a back burner. Tendrils of steam now wafted gently from its spout. By the time Devlin walked in, her scarf clenched in his hand, Hannah had coffee ready.

As he hung her scarf atop her jacket and pulled off his own outer clothing, she poured him a mug. Hannah filled her own mug as he stirred several spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. She remained standing, however, giving a fierce shake of refusal, when he pulled out a chair for her.

With a shrug, he took his own seat at the kitchen table, then looked up at her. “Why won’t you sit down?”

She took a tentative sip of her steaming brew. “I’ve got too much work to do.”

“Work can wait a few minutes.” He gestured to the chair on his right. “Come on. Sit for a spell.”

Irritation flooded her. She didn’t want to talk to him, especially after what she had just gone through with Evan. Indeed, her thoughts were still so jumbled she didn’t know what to think about it all herself.

“Devlin, I don’t want—”

“Hannah, what’s wrong?” He cut her off, a look of concern darkening his rich brown eyes. “It takes more than a fall or lost scarf to make you cry.”

Her lips tightened mutinously. “It’s really none of your business.”

“No, it’s not, if you don’t want to tell me.” He leaned back in his chair and locked gazes with her. “But you’ve been good to me and my children, and I owe you a lot. I was just trying to offer my help, if you needed it.”

Oh, what was the point of keeping the truth from him anyway? she thought in defeat. One way or another, he’d find out soon enough. With a sigh, Hannah walked over and sank into the chair Devlin had offered earlier.

“I just talked with Evan,” she said. “I finally decided to tell him I didn’t want to marry him. He didn’t take the news well …”

Devlin didn’t comment. He just sat there, sipping his coffee and listening.

Hannah leaned on the table, her forearms embracing her mug, and lowered her head. “I feel so guilty for hurting him. Yet I’m angry, too, that he won’t listen or hear me. I’ve been trying now for several months to do this, but Evan refuses to believe I really mean it.”

“Why, Hannah?” Devlin asked softly. As he spoke, he stroked the sides of his mug. “Why
are
you doing this? It makes no sense.”

Startled, she jerked her head up and stared at him. “Why?” she echoed his question. “Why else, Devlin?” With a great effort, she struggled to contain her indignation. “I don’t love him, or at least not like a woman should love the man she’s to marry.”

Devlin didn’t say anything right away. Rather, he just sat there, appearing to find a sudden interest in intently swirling his coffee. “What caused you to come to this decision?” he asked finally, glancing up at her.

She forced herself to meet his piercing gaze. It hadn’t been all that long, less than six months at best, since she and Devlin had at last come to a truce. In that time, their relationship had gradually improved. But could their fledgling friendship withstand the truth of her cowardly insistence on clinging to Evan, and the security his love had offered?

Hannah wasn’t so sure. And, to expose that weak, grasping side of herself … She shivered, filled with self-revulsion at facing up to yet another of her secret shames.

When she had first come to Culdee Creek, all she had wanted, all she had known was to survive in any way possible. There had been no self-respect, no moral code to draw upon. She had been willing to do anything, use anyone, to keep from having to return to Sadie Fleming’s.

Evan had so eagerly offered his help, then his heart. A heart—a man’s heart—Hannah had learned long ago how to maneuver to her best advantage.

No, she resolved fiercely, she couldn’t admit the brutal truth to Devlin. He wouldn’t understand. And it might well shatter the fragile bond beginning to build between them.

“I realize now Evan caught me at a time when I was confused, lonely, and very vulnerable,” she said finally. “He was so kind and attentive. He treated me with respect.” Hannah sighed and lowered her gaze to finger the tablecloth. “I guess I convinced myself, at least at first, that I was in love with him.”

“That’s understandable, I suppose. But I repeat, what caused you finally to decide you weren’t in love with him?”

What indeed? Hannah asked herself. She shrugged. “I don’t know … maybe coming to know myself better. Maybe getting to know Evan better, too. I’m sure finding God and striving to live in a more honest, loving way also had an influence. I finally realized prolonging this charade would only hurt Evan worse in the end. And I didn’t want to do that. Not ever.”

Devlin lifted his mug to his lips and took a deep swallow. “Well,” he observed as he set the mug back down, “you have the right to change your mind and admit you made a mistake. I just hate to see Evan hurt. And he will be hurt, no matter that you did your best to end this as soon as you could. The repercussions, though, could cause some pretty nasty tension around here for a while to come.”

Hannah stared at him, puzzled. Repercussions? What kind of repercussions?

Why now, Hannah?
Evan’s words in the barn slowly filtered back through her mind.
Ever since you went to work for Devlin, things have begun to change between us. It’s almost as if … as if he’s put ideas into your head. Ideas about him!

Was that what Devlin was getting at, when he had spoken just now of repercussions? Did he think … did he imagine she had decided to turn her wiles to winning him, rather than Evan?

She must, she decided, lay to rest once and for all any doubts Devlin might have about her and her motives. If not, she’d never be able to look him in the face again, much less work for him.

“I made it clear to Evan my reasons for breaking our engagement were entirely personal, and had nothing to do with any other person. You have my word on that.”

A look of relief softened his features. “Good.” Devlin exhaled a deep breath, and shrugged in an apparent effort to ease the tension from his shoulders. “Forgive my bluntness, but I was afraid Evan would misinterpret our friendship. He and I have had a rather stormy relationship over the years, and probably will for some time to come. I don’t ever want to put Conor in the position of having to choose between us, though. That, I’m afraid, would near to break his heart.”

“I wouldn’t want such a thing to happen either.” For the first time since they had come inside, Hannah smiled. “Thank you for your honesty, Devlin. I know it must have been difficult to say, but I’m glad you trusted me enough to say it anyway.”

He downed the rest of his coffee, then grinned. “It’s been hard, picking my way back with you. But you’ve always met me more than halfway, and that made it a sight easier. You’re a good woman, Hannah. I mean that in all sincerity.”

Once more, tears prickled in her eyes. She was certainly getting awfully emotional of late. But then, a lot of wonderful things seemed to be happening, too.

“Thank you, Devlin,” she said. “That’s just about the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

14

Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.

John 3:5

Abby’s labor began early on the morning of December 2nd during a freak rainstorm that quickly turned to sleet, then snow. Unlike Ella’s, it was an easy delivery, and a black-haired, squalling baby boy soon arrived into the world. The proud parents promptly named him Sean, in honor of Conor and Devlin’s grandfather, the brave Scots immigrant who had first come to the United States. Also, as Abby joyfully put it, because their son was truly a gift from God.

Though Conor tried to keep his energetic wife confined to bed for the next couple of weeks, Abby felt too well to lay around for long. By the middle of the week she was already coming downstairs for a few hours in the morning and afternoon while her son napped, and by the beginning of the next she was back to doing all her usual chores. The cradle both Hannah and Ella had used for their newborns was soon set up in a quiet spot in the parlor where Abby could frequently check on her baby.

Soon thereafter, preparations for Christmas began in earnest. The main house’s kitchen was filled with the spicy scents of cookies and fruitcakes baking. Children’s laughter floated through the parlor as they helped string popcorn and make paper garlands to trim Christmas trees. In no time both houses were well-stocked with goodies, and each pungent pine tree embellished by the gaily wrapped and extravagantly bedecked gifts set beneath them.

On Christmas Day, both MacKay families as well as the unmarried hands gathered in the main house for a fine Christmas feast. Afterwards, the children congregated upstairs in Beth’s room to play with their new toys. As Hannah and Abby started to clean up in the kitchen, all the men suddenly discovered the need for a long walk to, as they claimed, “wake them up” after such a filling meal.

“Just another excuse to avoid helping with the dishes, I’d say,” Abby grumbled good-naturedly after the last man departed.

“Well,”—Hannah filled the wash pan with hot water and soap—“did you really want the mess their lumbering about in your kitchen, dropping dishes and tripping all over themselves, would create, if such an unheard of event were ever actually to occur?”

Her friend grinned. “No, can’t say as I would. But it would be nice if, for a change, they all weren’t quite so quick to skedaddle every time it came to doing some kitchen work.”

“Or to changing a baby’s messy diaper.”

At that, both women laughed. The next few minutes were filled with companionable silence as Hannah washed and rinsed, and Abby dried the dishes. It was a blessed time, Hannah mused, filled with a peace and contentment such as she had never known before.

This was the kind of life she had always yearned for, she realized, even when she couldn’t put words to what she needed. God was good. She knew that to the depths of her being more and more with each passing day. And, with each passing day, as she studied the lessons and biblical passages Noah Starr had set her to learn in preparation for her baptism, she grew in her knowledge and love of the Lord. There didn’t seem to be much of anything more that Hannah could wish for from life.