Hannah Grace (16 page)

"And I'm glad for it. Unlike you, I don't need a man to make my life complete and fulfilling. God is all I need, and you should say the same. Why, just last Sunday, the Reverend Cooper spoke on the virtues of seeking God's divine guidance when making important decisions. Imagine seeking answers for your future in some silly magazine. What do those writers know about anything, anyway? You should be reading your Bible instead,"

"What? I'll have you know I read my Bible every day, sister dear, and I have not run across one thing that has warned me against marrying Ralston. And another thing. I don't need a man to make my life complete, but that doesn't mean I'm longing for spinsterhood, either."

"Stop it, both of you." Maggie's stern tone from her perch by the vanity drew both girls to a halt. She was still dressed like a queen in her blue brocade gown, and her freshly brushed hair curved gently about her shapely shoulders. Ever the practical one, Maggie cleared her throat and swiveled on the seat until she faced her sisters. "Hannah's right; your pacing isn't helping matters," she said to Abbie. "Nor is your incessant squealing. You best settle down and allow Hannah to make her own decisions-with the Lord's guidance, of course."

Properly put in her place, Abbie sighed and crossed the room. Turning away from her sisters, she pulled back the lace curtain and gazed out the window, granting them a moment of pleasant silence. Hannah lay back down and sucked in several calming breaths.

"I think remaining single would be highly advantageous," Abbie said.

"Perhaps," Maggie agreed. "But only if God willed it."

"In fact, I'm seriously considering it. Katrina is simply not the same since she and Micah Sterling married, and neither will you be, Hannah Grace. We used to share so many secrets, Katrina and I, but since she married Micah, she seems so-so old. Oh, we still see each other often, but it's not the same. Micah forever hangs on her, or she on him. We can't even have a decent conversation most times."

"Why, Abigail Kane, you're jealous." Maggie turned back around to the vanity mirror and resumed her nightly hundred strokes to her glorious, gold mane with her horsehair brush, leaning forward to study her flawless complexion in the mirror. "Micah Sterling stole your best friend, and you're just plain mad as a hornet over that."

Abbie spun around, black locks bouncing, dark eyes snapping with newfound spark. "I most certainly am not. The last thing I want is a man to have to cater to and pick up after." Then, to Hannah, she added, "Which is exactly what you'll be doing if you marry Huffy. Lots of catering. Doctors like to have their social gatherings, you know. You'll be forever hosting some function or another."

Hannah draped a weary arm across her forehead and peered at a spider's web just overhead. Abbie's banter fueled her exhaustion, making changing into her nightclothes seem like an impossible chore.

Ralston's proposal of marriage was rather shocking, she mulled. Why, he hadn't even kissed her yet, unless one counted a peck on the cheek, and even those came at rare intervals. Moreover, his failure to seek her father's blessing beforehand troubled her. Why ever had he thought it necessary to announce his wishes to marry her in a public setting? Had he expected immediate elation from everyone present, thinking she couldn't possibly turn him down in the presence of others? She winced as she recalled Papa's face-his look of surprise, then confusion and disapproval, and perhaps a hint of anger, albeit appropriately contained and controlled. To be certain, uncomfortable didn't come close to describing the general feeling in the room, particularly when she delicately withheld an answer.

After the party, Hannah and her sisters straightened up the house, washed every last dish and crystal goblet, shook out rugs and linen tablecloths, and folded and put things in their proper places, all with Grandmother's hasty orders and strict supervision. Papa stifled any talk of the wedding proposal the second Abbie brought it up, saying, "Hannah and I shall discuss this issue in private." His brusque tone had everyone scurrying about the house, Helena included. Within an hour, one would not have known a flurry of guests had filled every room. Without ado, everyone but Hannah and Papa escaped to her room, and Papa ushered Hannah to the library, pressing her gently into the settee.

"Now then, do you love this man?" he asked, wasting no time in getting to the point, dropping down beside her with a sigh and crossing one leg over the other. When he turned to look at her, his eyes penetrated deep into her core, and yet they held a tenderness that made her want to weep.

"Papa, I-I don't know for sure. He's a very fine man, and he has high aspirations. He would be a good provider, of that I am certain."

Papa nodded, raising his eyebrows a mere notch. He stole her hand from her lap and sandwiched it between his own. `And so you would marry him for these reasons?"

"No...well, I understand that love must play a big part."

`A big part?" Jacob gave her fingers a gentle squeeze and smiled. "My dear, it must play the biggest part of all-love, and a deep conviction within yourself that God has led you to this pivotal point."

In that moment, she felt the tiniest tweak in her conscience. What part, if any, had the Lord played in bringing Ralston and her together-or was that something she would sense with time? A tumble of confused thoughts scurried through her head, and she sucked in a jagged breath.

Her father must have sensed her inner turmoil, for he patted her hand. "I must confess, I haven't made much of an effort to know Ralston better, but what I've seen of him, I like. It's just that I had no idea your relationship had risen to such a level; I certainly had no idea of his intentions to propose marriage."

"If it's any consolation to you, Papa, I had no idea of Ralston's plans, either, and in the presence of so many guests. If you'll recall, I gave him no formal answer."

He exhaled a long sigh, accompanied by the first hint of a twinkle in his eye. "For which I am most grateful. I have never once doubted your sensible side, Hannah Grace. I know you will make this a matter of diligent prayer." Again, that needling sensation pricked at her soul.

Lord, forgive me for neglecting to seek Your wisdom.

Suddenly, Jacob leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, then clasped her shoulders and studied her face. "It's hard to believe you've grown up so rapidly. When did this happen?"

She smiled and picked a piece of lint from his shirtfront. "Oh, Papa, I can't stay a child forever."

"Humph, I suppose you are nearing a marriageable age."

"Grandmother said anyone past twenty can't be too picky."

"Don't bring me into this," Helena suddenly chimed from the living room. When had she sneaked back downstairs? "I said no such thing-not in those exact words, anyway."

"Mother Kane, how long have you been lurking?" Jacob asked.

"I'm not lurking at all. I just came down to retrieve a book." Helena walked grandly into the library, her silken housecoat flowing behind her, and took down a volume from a shelf directly behind her son's mahogany twin-pedestal desk.

Jacob raised his eyebrows. "So, if you didn't say it in so many words, how did you say it?"

"What? Oh, well, I suppose I mentioned something at one point about the importance of finding a proper husband before, say, the age of twenty-five. After all, the older a woman gets, the narrower her chances,"

"Ah." He combed his long, slender fingers through his thick beard. "It is all in God's hands whether one finds a lifelong mate, and a matter for much prayer and seeking God's Word for direction. I would hope you added that as an afterthought."

The normally intact, highly controlled woman grew pink with embarrassment, if not indignation. She drew back her shoulders. "I have always taught your daughters the truth of God's Holy Word, Jacob Stewart Kane."

It was one of the few times Hannah had heard Grandmother address her grown son with such sternness, and, for a split second, Hannah had to hold back a telling smile. What Grandmother said was true. Rarely had Helena Kane dismissed an opportunity to make a Sunday school lesson out of the minutest misdemeanor. Hannah's head filled with childhood recollections.

"Well, I wasn't questioning your Christian training, Mother, just your-oh, good grief, I don't know. I feel out of my element. This is something new to me, discussing matters of marriage with my eldest daughter." He suddenly rose to his feet, so Hannah jumped to hers, as well.

"If you don't mind, Papa, I'd like to go to bed,"

He leaned forward to kiss her forehead and give her a warm hug. "It has been an eventful evening, hasn't it? We'll let the matter of the proposal rest until we're all a bit more clearheaded,"

She sighed with relief and moved out of his embrace. "Good night, then." She blew her grandmother a kiss on her way to the door.

"It was a nice party, by the way," Jacob said. She turned to acknowledge his compliment. "Folks seemed to enjoy meeting Sheriff Devlin in a less formal setting. I must say, he's a most likeable fellow."

"And charming, too," Grandmother added in a wistful manner, pressing a hand to her throat, her book to her bosom.

For reasons unknown, a knot formed in the back of Hannah's neck. Why must Gabriel Devlin's name come up when Ralston's should be at the forefront, even if the party was for the benefit of the new skier?

Hannah forced a smile. "Good night, now."

On the way to the stairs, she'd caught her grandmother's final remark.

"To be sure, that Gabriel Devlin will make some woman a fine catch."

ON bother! With a great deal of effort, Hannah had dragged herself upstairs and dangled her feet over the edge of her high Jenny Lind bed, doing her best to rein in her tangled thoughts.

"Well, are you going to tell us what Papa said about the marriage matter?" Abbie asked, walking away from the window.

Hannah let out a labored breath. "My head's too discombobulated at the moment. Besides, tomorrow's Sunday, and I have to get up extra early, since it's my week to make breakfast."

"Hannah's right," Maggie said, rising from the vanity and stretching her slender arms toward the ceiling as she expelled a wide yawn. "Undo my buttons, Abs," she said, turning her back toward her little sister.

Abbie set about the task, "Let's talk about the very divinelooking Sheriff Devlin, then, shall we?"

Hannah groaned. "Let's not," She padded to the bureau drawer to find her nightgown.

"He is a handsome specimen," Maggie said dreamily, standing patiently as Abbie moved her hands meticulously down her back. "Why, if I were a wee bit older and didn't have my heart set on going to New York..."

"But you do," Abbie reminded her. "Besides, he's not your type. He's more, hmm, Hannah's type, I'd say."

Hannah twisted around, mouth gaping. "I do declare, what is all this talk about Gabriel Devlin? First Papa, then Grandmother, and now you two. He's a nice enough man, yes, but he's not-divine, as you put it, Abbie. And he certainly is not my type."

Abbie stilled her unbuttoning task. "Why not?"

Why not, indeed? Completely at a loss for words, Hannah yanked open the top drawer, snagged her nightgown under her arm, and marched to the washroom situated just outside the girls' bedroom. Even when she closed the door behind her, it was difficult not to hear Abbie's remark: "Well, I guess I've found another button to push when I want to get a rise out of her." Her sisters' high-pitched giggles trailed off

"It's gettin' cooler these days, Pop. Cain't we hole up in a hotel somewheres tonight?"

Rufus reined in his horse, turned full around, and stared at the three hooligans following his lead. Although the sun shone through puffy clouds, there was a chilly nip coming off Lake Michigan this morning that passed right through their holey cotton shirts, a sure sign that autumn would soon come knocking. If snow fell before they found that rotten kid, they might freeze to death. The boys shifted in their saddles, Roy pushing his weathered hat back to gaze at the sky, Reuben leaning forward to rub his lathered horse on the neck, and Luis watching his father with hopeful eyes.

"We ain't stayin' in no hotel, Luis, and don't none of the others of y' come up with anymore half-baked ideas. We can't take any chances on folks recognizin' us. You saw that article in the newspapers. Least ways, y' saw m' picture. Not a one of us can read worth squat, but that picture alone tells me they's after us. Maybe that fool kid already come forward 'bout seein' us. We gots t' watch ar backs, y' hear?"

"Then, what's the point in killin' that kid, Pa, iffin' he's already tol' on us?" asked Reuben. "Seems t' me, we should jus' skedaddle and hope no one spots us on the way out."

"Seems to me we should just skedaddle:" Rufus wagged his head and mocked his boy in a whiney voice, then spat at the ground, hitting the toe of his boot instead. 'Anyone tell you y' got the brains of a gopher? That kid's the only witness to ar crime. Anythin' else is hearsay. Even you spoutin' off t' that painted woman down in South Bend ain't goin' t' hold water with the law if it was to ever come t' trial. Who's goin' t' believe her? That don't mean it weren't plain daft of you to go braggin' 'bout what happened, Reuben. An' if I hear tell you open your yapper again, I'll close it for good, y' hear?"