Woman of Grace (33 page)

“Finally decided to come back where you belong, have you?” a familiar voice drawled.

Hannah wheeled around and her gaze slammed into that of Brody Gerard. With a low gasp, she stepped back.

“Let me go, Brody,” Hannah said through gritted teeth. “I’ve got no business with you.”

His hand remained where it was, gripping her firmly. “Maybe not, but I’ve got some unfinished business with you.” As he spoke, Brody’s glance slowly, suggestively slid down her body.

Uneasy, Hannah tried to free herself from Brody’s grasp. When he snickered at her futile struggle, icy talons of fear clenched around her chest.

She opened her mouth to call for help, but in a split second Brody’s hand twisted her arm behind her. Another hand slammed down over her mouth.

Terrified, Hannah elbowed him hard in the side and bit down on the muscled palm covering her mouth. Brody grunted in pain, and momentarily loosened his grasp.

Hannah wrenched free. She took two steps forward, and opened her mouth to scream. Then, with a brutal grip, Brody grabbed her and jerked her back around. His other hand fisted, slamming into her jaw.

Pain exploded in her head. A colorful kaleidoscope of whirling lights flashed before her eyes. Then, like a curtain, darkness fell, obliterating everything.

The sun was blindingly bright. A flock of crows flying overhead made a deafening cacophony. His horse’s jarring gait sent Devlin’s stomach to roiling and his head to pounding. And, to add insult to injury, his split lip and bruised face throbbed. If he didn’t get to Culdee Creek soon, Devlin decided, he’d never make it at all.

Finally, blessedly, through the morning mists rising off the land, he blearily made out the ranch entrance’s gateposts. “Just a little while longer,” he mumbled to his mount. “Hang in there, old boy.”

Culdee Star’s ears flicked back. Devlin knew the big bay was listening. He seriously doubted, though, that his horse bore him any sympathy.

After all the other occupants of the Prancing Pronghorn had departed late last night, Sam Green had taken pity on Devlin and made a pallet for him behind the bar. This morning the Presbyterian Church’s bells, peeling out a greeting to the churchgoers attending the early Sunday service, had nearly sent Devlin flying straight into the air. As it was, he had managed to break several bottles of Sam’s finest whiskey, which had ended up costing a pretty penny.

No, he admitted, the day hadn’t begun well at all. And it didn’t promise to get any better. Not only did he have a ferocious hangover and splitting headache, but he still had Hannah to face once he arrived back at Culdee Creek.

And face her he would. That much he had determined last night between shots of whiskey and bouts of bitter self-recrimination. At the very least, he owed her the truth. He owed himself the truth, too.

Last night Hannah had admitted she loved him, an admission Devlin know had required an enormous amount of courage. She deserved the same from him—the courage to confront his own needs and fears, and be man enough to fight for what he wanted.

Fight for her.

He loved Hannah, had for a long while now. So did his children. Devlin wagered he pretty much needed her as much as they did, too. A man would have to be a fool to turn his back on a woman as fine as Hannah. Even a man as bullheaded and thick-skulled as he.

But what would it take, then, to finally be worthy of her? Devlin reined in Culdee Star and, with his free hand, massaged his aching forehead. What
was
it about him that drew Hannah so strongly that she now seemed convinced she loved him? And could he truly live up to her lofty expectations?

He knew he wanted to. He’d do everything in his power never to disappoint her. But if he tried and still failed …

With a fierce swell of rage, Devlin swept aside the old, insidious doubts. What had happened in the past was over and done. No amount of guilt or wishing it had been different would change what had occurred. It was time to move on, to regain control of his life and not look back. He had always been a man who did well when he took charge and relied on himself. He would do so again, but this time with Hannah at his side.

Joy surged through him. “I think you’d approve, Ella,” Devlin whispered, lifting his thoughts briefly heavenward. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t plotted out all this yourself. It’d be just like you,” he added with a tender smile. “I thank you for loving me that much. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

As Devlin headed down the road toward the ranch buildings, Conor, followed by Abby, walked out onto the main house’s front porch and down the steps. Even before he had reined in his horse and begun to dismount, Abby ran to him.

“Where’s Hannah?” She glanced up at him with anxious eyes. “She left last night without telling me, and when you and she didn’t come home, I thought … well, I thought you two were together.”

Devlin all but fell off his horse. Wincing in pain, he turned to face her. “Could you lower your voice a mite?” He pulled off his Stetson and massaged his temples. “I’m not deaf, you know.”

“You may not be deaf, but you sure look to have a walloping good hangover,” Conor offered, joining his wife.

Abby shot both men a quelling look. “At this moment, I could care less whether Devlin has a hangover or not. I want to know where Hannah is!”

As the gravity of the situation slowly permeated Devlin’s befuddled mind, he forced his thoughts to focus. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since last night.”

“Well, she’s not here,” Abby snapped. “She went after you and never came home!”

Devlin shot Conor a questioning glance.

His cousin nodded in solemn agreement. “She’s not here, Devlin. We’ve searched the whole ranch.”

Concern in her eyes, Abby stepped closer. “What happened last night at the Prancing Pronghorn, Devlin? What did you say to Hannah?”

Devlin’s gut clenched. “I didn’t say
anything
to her. She never came into the saloon.”

Conor turned to his wife. “Do you think it’s possible she decided not to go to the saloon, and spent the night with the Starrs, or maybe with Russell Gates and his wife?”

Abby’s eyes brightened with renewed hope. “I suppose that’s possible. Will you ride to Grand View and see?”

“No, it’s my fault Hannah went to town in the first place,” Devlin cut in with as much firmness as his pounding head would allow. “It should be up to me to find her and set things straight.”

“From the looks of you right now,” Conor muttered, casting a disgusted glance at his cousin, “you couldn’t manage that by yourself if your life depended on it. So, while I saddle up, why don’t you head into the house and have a couple cups of coffee? You’ll need it for the ride back.”

Devlin stifled a groan. What more could go wrong? Still, when Conor used that tone of voice, it was pointless to argue. Besides, he didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t have a chance to set things right with Hannah, to tell her he loved her. Now that he had taken the final step that would free him from his past, Devlin didn’t want it to be a journey begun—and ended—in vain.

On the return trip to town, Conor informed Devlin that, despite all arguments to the contrary, Evan had insisted on riding out first thing in the morning. He had to get away for a while, his son had explained. Get things put back in the proper perspective. Where and how he presumed to accomplish that, Conor added grimly, Evan didn’t say.

Beneath the sparse words and flat tone of voice, Devlin could hear his cousin’s pain. “I’m sorry, Conor,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I know Evan and I had our problems, but I never thought it would come to this. And I swear to you. It was the furthest thing from my mind to try to take Hannah away from him.”

“Well, there’s no accounting for women and their choice of men, is there?” Conor shot him an agonized look. “That’s a lesson Evan’s going to have to learn sooner or later. It’s also a lesson you need to learn real soon, too, before you destroy any chance you have with Hannah. You hurt her last night by running out on her.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. She deserves better than me, Conor. But I didn’t know how to make her see that.”

“Do you love her?”

Devlin closed his eyes against the bright sun, willing the throbbing pain in his head to ease. “That’s a fool stupid question,” he growled. “Who wouldn’t love Hannah? She’s an angel, a rare, sweet, beautiful angel.”

“Then why are you trying so hard to destroy what you have with her?”

“Why else?” Devlin’s laugh was unsteady. “I’m afraid. Afraid I’ll disappoint her. Afraid to let myself hope I can ever be happy again.”

“Well, that’s a foolish way to go through life. Are you bound and determined to end up like your pa?”

Devlin’s head jerked around, and he glared at Conor. “I never want to end up like my pa. Never!”

“So that’s why you got drunk at Sam’s and ran off on Hannah? ’Cause you don’t want to be like your pa.” Conor shook his head in renewed disgust. “Sure makes a heap of sense to me.”

To shield his bloodshot, burning eyes from the sun’s glare, Devlin tugged down his Stetson’s front brim even lower. “Yeah, I reckon it does,” he muttered. “Just about as much sense as it makes to me.”

With that, he spurred his mount on to a gallop.

Hannah wasn’t at either the Starrs’ or Gates’ house. After scouring the town, Devlin finally found Culdee Fire still tied near the saloon. Their anxiety rising, the two men headed for the sheriff’s office.

When he heard the news, Jake Whitmore wasn’t any more pleased than Devlin and Conor. “Considering her horse is here and she’s nowhere to be found,” he said, scratching his jaw, “I reckon some foul play’s afoot. Any ideas who might wish her harm—aside from a passel of the women in this town, of course?”

At the memory of the day he had dragged Brody Gerard’s carcass into this very office, a cold horror flooded Devlin. If Gerard had finally managed to carry her back to Sadie Fleming’s …

He slammed on his Stetson and headed for the door. “Just one idea,” he growled over his shoulder, “and if she’s there, the man who took her is going to wish he was never born!”

20

Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord.