Woman of Grace (28 page)

“She’s a fool to keep coming here so you can find new ways to hurt her!” His face livid, Evan jumped to his feet. “She’s too fine, too good for the likes of you. Sooner or later, you’ll break her heart.”

“I’d never do that to Hannah!” Devlin leaped up, swept his chair aside, and came to stand face-to-face with Evan. The memory of how he had just finished hurting Hannah flooded back with a vengeance, making him even angrier. “You’re not the only one who cares about her, you know.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” his cousin snarled, refusing to back down. “But tell me, Devlin. What exactly do you have to offer her? You’re nearly old enough to be her father. You’ve got three kids and a house you basically rent from my pa. Sure, you’re Culdee Creek’s foreman, but that’s a dead-end job because you’ll never own this ranch.”

He gave a disdainful snort. “A fine husband you’d make for Hannah.”

“I never said I wanted to marry her!” Devlin’s hands fisted at his side. More than anything, he wanted to knock that sneer off Evan’s face. That sneer of contempt that he should ever aspire to a woman as good and beautiful as Hannah.

“Well, then we understand each other, don’t we?”

The sad thing was, Devlin did. In one debilitating rush, he felt the anger drain from him. “Just because I’m not the man for Hannah doesn’t mean you are, Evan,” he said with quiet but deliberate emphasis. “You can’t make that decision for her. After all she’s been through, she deserves better than that.”

“I’m not trying to force her to do anything. I want her to take all the time she needs. But I also don’t want you muddying the waters.”

Devlin rolled his eyes. “You worry too much, Evan. Hannah’s not interested in me.”

“That’s not the impression I got at Christmas when you kissed her.”

“That was a mistake that hasn’t happened again. And it won’t.”

“Do I have your word on that?”

Automatically, Devlin opened his mouth to give it, then snapped it shut again. He didn’t owe Evan any promises.

Despite what he had said to her earlier, the longer he talked with Evan, the less convinced Devlin was that he wanted Hannah and her son out of his life.
Their
son, he corrected himself with a jolt of surprise, whether he ultimately chose to accept the boy or not. The threads that seemed to draw them inexorably closer with each passing day, he realized, had pulled just a bit tighter this evening.

No, Devlin decided, he couldn’t promise Evan anything. It was enough he followed his own conscience when it came to Hannah. Besides, he didn’t particularly like being pushed around by a jealous kid.

“Sorry,” he growled finally, “but you don’t have my word. I’ll try to do what’s best for Hannah, but I’m not going to box myself into some corner in the process, just to please you. You’ll just have to trust me when I say I’ll always try to place her interests above mine.”

Evan eyed him narrowly, then nodded. “Fair enough, just as long as you stick to those intentions.” He pushed back his chair and, without a backward glance, walked across the kitchen and out the back door.

The next morning, Hannah had already arrived and was preparing breakfast in the kitchen when Devlin finally dragged himself out of bed and made his way down for some coffee. At his entrance, she shot him a quick glance over her shoulder, then returned her attention to the bacon she was frying.

“Morning,” she said.

The fortifying aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the mouthwatering scent of bacon and biscuits. “Morning,” Devlin replied, then immediately headed for the cupboard where he took down two mugs and returned to the table.

Walking to the stove, he grabbed a towel and picked up the steaming coffeepot. “Want some?”

She didn’t look at him. “Yes, please.”

He poured them both a mug full of the dark, rich brew, set the coffeepot on the table trivet, then took a seat and prepared his coffee. The first few sips banished the remaining cobwebs from his sleep-deprived mind. From the looks of the dark smudges beneath Hannah’s eyes, he noted, casting her a surreptitious glance, it didn’t appear as if she had slept too well last night, either.

On the heels of that realization rushed yet another surge of guilt. It was his fault, his cruel words, which had once again caused her pain. He was lucky she hadn’t finally chucked it all and walked out on him and the children.

A clatter of blocks tumbling to the floor rose from the corner. Devlin looked up and met Jackson’s contrite gaze. He stared at the little boy for so long—and he guessed too sternly—that Jackson’s eyes filled with tears and his lower lip began to wobble.

Devlin sighed in exasperation. That was all he needed. On top of what had transpired last night, if Jackson started bawling now, Hannah would think he had caused it. He put down his coffee mug and held out his arms. “Come here, Jackson.”

The boy jumped up and toddled to him, throwing himself into Devlin’s arms. In the next instant, he had climbed up and happily settled himself in Devlin’s lap.

Devlin’s face flushed with his embarrassment. “That was quite a tower of blocks you were trying to build,” he said, choosing to focus his attention on a far easier topic to address. “Pretty soon, we’ll have to start teaching you how to build things with a real hammer and nails. Would you like that?”

Jackson’s head bobbed in joyful assent. “Uh huh. Like Dev … win.” With a chubby finger, he poked him in the chest.

Devlin smiled. The boy was quite bright and endearing.

“Want … to pwaay.” Jackson suddenly began to squirm against him. “Down.”

“Okay.” Devlin released the restless little boy, who immediately slid off his lap and hurried back to his corner full of blocks.

He watched him for a time, myriad emotions roiling within him, until Hannah jerked open the warming oven door to place a platter of fried bacon inside. Distracted, his gaze moved then to the cookstove, where she was pouring a bowl filled with beaten eggs into the frying pan. Her slender arm moving in a rhythmic, circular fashion, she began to scramble them.

The morning sun, glinting through the lace-curtained kitchen window, caught in her hair. Shades of flax and winter wheat sparkled in her pale tresses. Light kissed her smooth, flawless cheek and shimmered on her long neck and delicately curved shoulder. Sitting there in the food-fragrant, already summer-warm kitchen, Devlin thought he could watch her forever.

Like a mist rising from a night-cooled lake, sadness filled him. He wanted Hannah to belong here, in this house, in this kitchen, with him and his children. But he knew it could never be. He could never atone for what he had done to her. There was no chance of happiness and redemption for him anymore.

Still, life went on. And he owed Hannah an apology. It seemed, Devlin thought wryly, he was having to do a lot of that of late. A smart man would’ve learned his lesson a long time ago.

“Hannah?”

For a fleeting instant, she stiffened. She was exhausted after a sleepless night; Devlin’s silent and staring presence in the kitchen had only made her more tense.

She was on the verge of tears, and she didn’t like feeling so out of control. The closer she drew to Devlin, the easier it seemed for him to hurt her. If she were a smart woman, she would turn and run as fast and far away as she could from him.

For the moment, though, that wasn’t an option. Indeed, Hannah wondered if she’d ever be able to leave. Her heart and life had long ago become entwined with those of Devlin’s children. She didn’t know if she could turn her back on those dear little ones.

“Hannah, please talk to me, listen to what I have to say.”

She scraped the cooked eggs onto a large plate, then shoved them into the warmer beside the bacon. Finally, after checking the biscuits in the oven and moving the frying pan into the sink, Hannah walked to the table and took a seat.

“I’m listening, Devlin.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his glance sweeping her face with concern. She felt her defenses begin to weaken and forced herself to recall his harsh words of the previous night. Freshened pain swept through her. Her resolve hardened in renewed self-protection.

“Where and how do I begin?” Briefly, Devlin lowered his gaze, then lifted it to meet hers. In his eyes she saw shame and remorse. “I’m sorry for what I said to you last night. I was wrong to speak to you in such a manner. You didn’t deserve it.” He paused to inhale a deep breath, then forged on. “I still need time to work through my feelings about Jackson and what I want to do about him, but in the meanwhile I want you to know I won’t change how I’ve always treated him. He’s a fine little boy. I won’t do anything in any way to hurt or punish him for what we’ve done.”

“That’s good to know,” Hannah replied evenly, maintaining rigid control of her emotions. “If I ever suspected for an instant you’d take out your anger at me on him … well, I’d never go near you or this house again.”

Fleetingly, a smile quirked the corners of Devlin’s mouth. “That’s good to hear. I wouldn’t want the mother of any child of mine to act any other way.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, and clasped his hands together before him. “I know I’ve hurt you time and again, Hannah. But the news you shared with me last night … well, let’s just say you scared me near witless.”

“Hence your wretched, thoughtless words,” she offered with bitter sarcasm. “I’m not your enemy, Devlin. I don’t hate you or wish you ill. When will you finally get that into your head?”

He straightened and ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m trying, Hannah. Really, I am. And the fault’s not yours. It’s mine.”

She sighed. “That doesn’t make these outbursts any easier to take. I do the best I can to be your friend, to treat you honestly. But I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate how you treat me when—”

“It’s been a long while now since we first made our peace with each other. Over a year, if I’m not mistaken.” He managed a weak, lopsided, little grin. “Isn’t a man allowed to make a stupid, brainless fool out of himself once a year?”

She eyed him warily, but said nothing.

Devlin stood, came around to where she sat, and took both of her hands in his. Pulling her to her feet, he gazed down with an expression of heartfelt entreaty. “Please, Hannah. Forgive me. I don’t mean to make light of the cruel things I said to you. It breaks my heart to see you hurting and know I was the cause of it.”

He hesitated, chewing on his lower lip in a gesture of tortured indecision the like of which she had never seen before. “I … I care about you,” he ground out finally, his voice low, his words halting. “You’ve given me so much, and never asked hardly anything in return. I know I don’t deserve it and am ungrateful most of the time to boot, but I do recognize how much you do for me and the children.”

“Devlin, I—”

“Hush, let me finish.” He released one of her hands and grasped her shoulder. “It’s always been hard for me to let myself trust others, to allow myself to care about them or come to need them. Too many times to count, I’ve lost someone I loved, or been betrayed by them. After a while, it just seemed safer not to let anyone get too close.”

“You let Ella get close, and your children.”

He smiled sadly. “Yeah, well I didn’t say some folk didn’t manage to slip past my guard. But the few times I’ve let that happen, it seems I’ve always had to pay a price. Gets kind of tough to lower your guard after a while.”

“But that’s part and parcel of life, Devlin.” She moved closer, drawn by the fascinating glimpse he offered of his wounded heart. “You have to trust—trust in God and in your fellow man. From that trust comes the ability to love and accept love. But there cannot be one without the other.”

“Ah, Hannah, Hannah.” Devlin smiled down at her. “You’re so full of love, it surrounds you like some shining aura. I think that’s why I’m so drawn to you, hoping some of that glorious light might somehow fall my way.”

“We all need each other,” she said, suddenly concerned he might see her as more than she really was. “I need your light as much as you need mine.”

“Do you, Hannah?” He lifted his hand and touched her, tenderly stroking the side of her face from temple to cheek. “Do you really?”

As he spoke, his eyes went dark, smoldering. His voice turned rich and husky.

His unexpected reaction stirred something deep within Hannah. Excitement raced through her. Desire flared, scorching her with its sudden surge of power.

They had come to another crossroads. Devlin was a grown man in his prime, and not one to be trifled with or put off as she had managed to do with Evan for so many months. Whatever she next said he would hold her to.

Yet what else was there but the truth? She loved Devlin. That meant he possessed the power to hurt her. But he also, if he wished to use it, possessed the power to bring her great joy. The choice for or against him—frightening as it was—was hers.

She lifted her arms and encircled his neck. Pressing close, Hannah laid her head over his heart. “Yes, Devlin,” she whispered achingly, “I
do
need you. I need you so very, very much.”

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