Woman of Grace (25 page)

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Cutler, and right on time!” She swung the door wide, stepped back, and motioned for her to enter.

The scent of something sweet and spice-laden filled the air. Hannah smiled. If she didn’t miss her guess, Noah’s aunt had some treat baking. Millie was always commenting on what she viewed as Hannah’s too thin frame, saying that she needed “a little fattening up.”

“Smells good.” Hannah removed her wool jacket, knit headscarf, and mittens.

“Apple spice cake.” Her hostess took her things and hung them on the oak hall tree standing by the front door. “You’ll stay a bit after your instructions, won’t you? A hot cup of tea and warm piece of cake will fortify you for the cold trip back to Culdee Creek.”

“I’d love some of your cake,” Hannah said, loathe to disappoint Millie in any way. “But if Devlin is ready for me early—”

“Then he can just come on in and also have cake while he waits,” the older woman finished firmly.

Behind them, a door opened. “Ah, Hannah,” a deep male voice said, “I hadn’t realized you were here.” Noah walked up to stand before them. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long?”

She met his welcoming smile with a warm one of her own. “I just arrived. Your aunt and I were discussing plans for after my lessons.”

He shot his aunt a quizzical glance. “Let me guess. Do these plans have anything to do with food?”

Millie laughed, then shooed them away. “Now you stop that right now, Noah Starr,” she chided with mock severity. “Hannah’s not the only person who could use a little extra meat on her bones.”

Chuckling, Noah took Hannah by the arm and led her into his study. It was a room she would’ve expected of a preacher, she thought, surveying it yet again with ever curious eyes. Two walls, from floor to ceiling, were filled with shelves stuffed with books. In the center of the room, facing the door, was a huge, oak desk, centered on a blue-, red-, and green-fringed Aubusson rug. Before the only window, hung with thick, dark green velvet drapes that stood open to brighten the pine-trimmed interior, sat two blue damask-covered wing chairs.

From her earlier visits, Hannah knew to head for the chairs. As she settled herself, Noah walked to his desk and picked up his Book of Common Prayer, then joined her. After taking the seat opposite Hannah, he leafed through the book until he found the spot he wanted, slipped a bookmark between the pages, and then closed it.

“So, how have things been for you of late?” His brown eyes warmed with interest. “I haven’t seen you since just before Christmas. That makes it”—he crinkled his brow in thought—“that makes it almost three weeks, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” Hannah nodded. “Almost three weeks since my last instructions.”

“And how have you been?” he repeated.

She looked away, directing her glance to the window. The view outside was one of flattened, dry grass where the relentless Colorado wind had scoured the snow away, and small, shriveled mounds of white where it hadn’t. A few desiccated, drooping stalks still stood within the picket fence enclosure of what remained of Millie’s lush, summer flower garden. And in the yard’s far corner, a skeletal cottonwood, its gray, gnarled bark and limbs providing a stark backdrop, presided like some ancient behemoth.

Still, the bleak scene was a peaceful contrast to the tumult raging within her. Should she tell Noah about her and Devlin’s Christmas kiss? Would he be scandalized to learn how much Devlin’s kiss had aroused her? And did she dare reveal to him Devlin’s belated admission of his own guilty desire?

It was all so confusing. Still, Hannah needed someone to talk to who wasn’t part of the MacKay clan. And she needed to know what path the Lord would wish her to take with this.

She sighed, turned back from the window, and met the priest’s questioning gaze. “Christmas Day provided a bit more excitement than I’d bargained for. Abby and I ended up standing under the mistletoe, and kissing all the men there after they returned from their walk.” Hannah hung her head. “I’d told you, the last time we talked, that I had ended my relationship with Evan. And it wasn’t as if I was truly trying to entice anyone. Abby and I were just feeling high-spirited with the holidays and all. But it got out of hand.”

Noah leaned forward, his gaze now serious, concerned. “What happened, Hannah?”

“Everything was okay, until I Devlin kissed me.” As she spoke, she could feel the blood heat her face. “He pulled me close and kissed me full on the lips, not at all like how the others had kissed me. And I … I liked it. I liked it very much.”

The priest straightened, then settled back in his chair. He propped his elbow on one armrest, cradling his chin in the fork of his thumb and forefinger. “And now you feel guilty about it. Because Ella’s been dead less than a year.”

“Yes.” Hannah swallowed hard. “But there’s more. On the way here today, Devlin finally confessed he had wanted to kiss me. We almost ended up in an argument, and now he’s feeling so guilty I’m afraid the friendship we’ve built over the past months may well be over.” Her hands clenched, and she pounded a fist on her thigh. “I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything, and all in one moment of silly, thoughtless fun!”

“There’s no harm in a friendly kiss. And it wasn’t as if you singled one man out on purpose.” Noah considered her thoughtfully. “There’s also nothing wrong with you being attracted to Devlin, or he to you.”

“But what about Ella?” Hannah wailed. “What kind of people does that make us, not even to pay her the proper respect of a decent mourning period?”

“Have you or Devlin done anything untoward before or after this Christmas kiss?”

The blood drained from Hannah’s face. No, she thought, unless you count Devlin’s calling on me at Sadie’s as untoward. But she knew Noah meant since Ella’s death, and she wasn’t about to drag that other time back into the light. That was in the past. Nothing could be done about it.

“Since I came to Culdee Creek, Devlin has never talked to me or tried to touch me in an unseemly way. That’s why the way he kissed me came as such a surprise.”

“So lay aside the memory of the kiss, allow the proper time to pass, and see where this newfound attraction leads.” Noah smiled gently. “There’s no rush, is there? No reason why you can’t allow things to take their natural course.”

Hannah shook her head. Noah didn’t understand, but then, how could he? She hadn’t told him the whole story. “It’s not as simple as that.”

“Do you perhaps imagine, because of the life you once led, that you don’t ever deserve to find happiness with a man? Or is it you fear you now can never have a normal relationship?”

Mortified at what she imagined he was implying, Hannah jerked her gaze back to his. “I-I don’t know if we should be talking about such carnal things. You being a man of the cloth, and all, I mean.”

The young priest chuckled. “As if I haven’t ever had such thoughts myself, or wondered how it would be with the woman I might someday wed. But I wasn’t speaking of the intimate aspects of a marital union, Hannah, but of the more spiritual, emotional relationship.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let me phrase it another way then.” For a long moment, Noah was silent, his brow furrowed in thought. “Do you still harbor guilt over your past life? Feel unclean, even damned? And does that make you wonder how you can ever bring a joyous, sanctified heart to a marriage? How you will ever feel worthy enough of a man you come to love and wish to wed?”

Tears stung her eyes. She lowered her head quickly to hide them. “I don’t know if I ever will, but in coming to the Lord, I have hope …”

“As well you should.” The priest opened his book and began to thumb through it. “There’s a passage I want you to hear, one that can be used for baptism. Ah, here it is.” He looked up and met Hannah’s gaze, then lowered his once more.

“Heavenly Father,” he read, “we thank You that by water and the Holy Spirit You have bestowed upon this your servant the forgiveness of sin and have raised her to the new life of grace. Strengthen her, O Lord, with your presence, enfold her in the arms of Your mercy, and keep her safe forever.”

Slowly, reverently, Noah closed the Book of Common Prayer. Once again, he looked up and locked gazes with Hannah. “Do you understand what that means, Hannah?”

“I think so.” She hesitated, then forged on. “It means that with my turning to the Lord with all my heart, all my sins are forgiven. And my life begins anew.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what that prayer means. What an astounding gift salvation is.” He smiled. “To start anew, free from sin … What a wondrous blessing!”

Even the barest consideration of such a miraculous offering overwhelmed her. “It’s a gift I’m almost afraid to accept,” she admitted, suddenly pensive and unsure. “What if, even after I’m forgiven and cleansed, I weaken and fall back into sin?”

“Conversion to the Lord is a firm determination to live for God, Hannah. Not a certainty that you’ll never sin again. Even if you fall—and we all do, time and again—you must never take your eyes off the Lord. Your trust in Him must be so strong that you’re convinced of His forgiveness if only you ask. And you must be equally convinced that God will always help you, and pick you up no matter when or if you should fall.

“In my mind, that is the greatest gift of baptism,” the young priest said, his eyes glowing with a glorious light. “It marks the beginning of a journey that will take us to God, a journey that will make us one with Christ, a completely new person and a child of God—washed clean and white as snow.”

“A child of God,” Hannah breathed in an awestruck whisper. “What a wondrous gift. It fills me so full of happiness, my heart feels near to bursting.”

She had come home at last, she realized, to the only home that truly mattered.

“And it’s only the beginning.”

“Yes.” She laughed in delight. “But, oh, what a beginning it is!”

15

But we believe that through the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ we shall be saved, even as they.

Acts 15:11

On April 9th, the eve before Easter Sunday, Hannah was finally baptized in Grand View’s Episcopal Church. A small group of MacKays—Devlin included—joined the townspeople attending the Easter Vigil service. Dressed in her own creation—a high-necked gown of rose-colored spotted silk lavishly trimmed in cream Venetian lace and sporting a flared full skirt, puffed sleeves, and big bow tied to the front side of her waist—Hannah was a dazzling sight.

Her physical accoutrements were nothing, however, in comparison to the radiant glow in her eyes and her luminous expression. Try as he might, Devlin couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He had dressed up for the occasion himself, wearing a plain black sack suit with a crisp, white shirt and black four-in-hand tie. Although he had avoided church and anything religious since Ella’s death, he made an exception this once, knowing how important his presence at the baptism was for Hannah.

Funny thing was, the prayers and readings touched him. He felt downright comfortable sitting in the pews with the rest of the MacKays. Too comfortable, Devlin realized. A man like him didn’t deserve to be in church, much less almost enjoy it.

Yet he did enjoy it, and that admission stirred an ache deep within him. To put a name to that yearning, though, was still more than Devlin would dare do. So he tucked the feelings deep inside his heart and tried to forget … like all the times before.

After the service, Noah and his aunt opened the rectory for a social hour to honor their newest church member. Several families—including the Edgertons, Nealys, and the Widow Ashley—politely begged off, citing other obligations. Enough stopped by to visit, however, to allay some of Hannah’s fears about her acceptance into the congregation.

“This hasn’t been so bad, now, has it?” Devlin asked as he joined her with two cups of ginger punch clutched in one hand, and a plate laden with almond macaroons, velvet cake, and two crème horns balanced in the other. After setting the plate on a nearby windowsill, he handed one cup of the chilled drink to Hannah, then took a sip of his own before popping a macaroon into his mouth. “I mean, a good two-thirds of the congregation turned out for the social,” he added, after chewing and swallowing the nut-laden treat.

“It was very kind of them,” Hannah murmured, scanning the room with a gratified smile. “I’m especially happy for Noah’s and Millie’s sakes.”

Devlin frowned. “And what about for your sake, Hannah? You count, too.”

She nodded. “Yes, but I’m used to the scorn and rejection. I’m more concerned that all Millie’s work for the social wasn’t for naught, and that Noah doesn’t lose most of his congregation because he has taken me in.”