Hannah Grace (17 page)

"Yes, sir, Pa. I ain't tot' nobody since." Reuben looked as scared as a hog going to the slaughterhouse. Rufus nodded, feeling satisfied.

"You think it'll go to trial, Pa?" asked Luis. Luis looked scared, too, but his fears came from his own naivete.

"They'd have to catch us first, bonehead," said Roy. `And they ain't goin' to, right, Pa? That's why we have to stay out of folks' sight, lay low, sleep under the stars, wear at hats down low on ar faces, split up when we can. We gots to watch our backs every second. You fellas can go to trial if y' want, but I'll die 'fore some judge stamps `guilty' on my forehead and sends me off t' prison."

Pride welled up within Rufus for his oldest boy's cleverness. Maybe he couldn't read, but that was only because Rufus had kept his boys sheltered their whole lives. They didn't need book-learning for the kind of work they did. Robbing was plain work, living on the edge, constantly watching their tails, never taking time to enjoy the finer points of life, like a goodtasting wine, a soft feather bed, or a decent roof over their heads. No sir. They'd be living the wayfaring life the rest of their days, which, for Rufus, wouldn't be much longer, what with him getting up in years. What was he, anyway? Sixty? He'd been forty-something back when Wilma had Luis, but after her passing, the years and their numbers seemed to lose all meaning. She never approved of her husband's lifestyle, but she appreciated the money well enough when food got scarce. And, after suffering a few blows to the chin, she'd learned to quit asking how he earned it.

"Simple" best described her, which probably explained Reuben's pea brain,

A flock of gulls swooped down on them when Luis threw down a half-eaten apple he pulled from his pocket. Rufus's horse whinnied and pawed. "We'd best find a place to settle in for the day. Don't want no one catchin' sight of us. Roy, ride on ahead and see what you can find. Me and the boys'll walk the horses down to the shore for a drink. We're goin' to hang out in Holland till we can get some news on that kid. Might be we'll even find 'im hidin' out here. Someone's bound to leak some information one o' these times. Matter o' fact, I got a good feelin"bout this place."

"You bet, Pa," said Roy, his face beaming with importance.

"Why's he always get to go scoutin'? When's Luis or me get a turn?" Reuben whined.

"I don't want no turn," Luis chimed.

Rufus shook his head at both of them and spat a big wad, this time making his mark on a decaying log.

Not waiting around, Roy turned his horse toward town and kicked him into action. "I'll be back 'fore you can say jackrabbit, Pa. You boys do as Pa says, now, y' hear?"

When Roy galloped out of earshot, Reuben groused, "He ain't my boss,"

Rufus glowered. "You best start thinkin' different, boy. Once I pass on t' glory, you'll be answerin' t' him."

"Rise and shine, buddy boy, we're going to church this morning."

"Hmmm." Jesse moaned and turned over, pulling a skinny leg back under the hotel bedsheet and burying his face beneath the pillow. Gabe knew that Jesse'd had another nightmare last night, for he'd had to wake him from a crying spell. As usual, though, Jesse had refused to talk about it, so the most Gabe could do for him was tousle his hair, assure him of his safety, and tuck him back under the blankets. The boy was probably tired, but that served as no excuse for playing hooky from church. Memories flooded Gabe's mind of the many times he'd tried to feign a headache or sour stomach as a kid, and his mother's unsympathetic rejoinder that if he didn't have a fever, then God wanted him in church. Her reasoning may have been a bit extreme, but it had followed him into adulthood, and he meant to continue enforcing it with Jesse.

"Hey." Gabe sat on the edge of the bed. "I've been thinking. I have the day off today, so maybe after lunch, we'll head over to the livery to check on Zeke and Slate, then walk down to the pier and watch the boats. Might see some big ones comin' through the channel. Would you like that?"

That got Jesse's attention. He turned over and wiped the sleep from his chocolate-colored eyes.

The sanctuary was filled to capacity as folks stood to sing the closing hymn. The soles of Gabe's feet vibrated with the pipe organ's resounding chords. Rev. Cooper had delivered another rousing sermon, this one about God's faithfulness, unconditional love, goodness, mercy, and certain presence in uncertain times. Gabe appreciated the reminder, especially in light of all the changes he'd undergone: acquiring a new job, new friends, a new house-and a boy! He glanced down at Jesse, who still stuck to his side like a fly to honey. In that instant, deep emotion welled up in him for the child-tenderness, affection, and untold warmth. Without forewarning, Jesse Gant had wrangled his way straight into Gabe's heart, and the notion made him squirm with uneasiness. When the time came, how was he ever going to say good-bye to this boy?

For the tenth time that morning, his eyes snaked a path to Hannah Grace, standing just three pews ahead of him, a flowery hat atop her head concealing her mass of red curls. Ralston stood next to her; on her other side stood the rest of the Kane clan. A provoking knot rolled around in his gut. Why couldn't he keep his eyes off her, and what possessed him to resent the good doctor?

He wasn't envious. He refused to be envious!

Straightening his shoulders, he focused all his attention on the portly Rev. Cooper as he delivered the final benediction.

Dazzling sunshine dispelled any hint of clouds as Hannah and Ralston traveled down Water Street in his horse-drawn coupe after a lovely Sunday dinner at the home of Edgar and Alice Carlton, owners of several thriving businesses, and long-time members of St. Elizabeth's Catholic Church in Sandy Shores.

Ralston waxed verbose. "Edgar sure seems engrossed with building a new hospital someday. He's already organized a committee and hired an architect to draw up initial plans. He's asked me to serve on the planning board, too, for which I'm thrilled. Naturally, I'll want to be a part of the project as it moves forward. I'm glad he's so interested in coordinating an investment group. Perhaps your father will want to take part. Why, there's enough wealth in this town to get a dandy start on the fund-raising. Edgar said he's approached several businessmen in the area, including a few over in Mill Point, who are eager to see this dream come to fruition,"

"Is that so?" Hannah replied. "A hospital would be a lovely addition to Sandy Shores, wouldn't it?" Not to mention a boon to Ralston's career-increased clientele, a private nurse or two, perhaps a partner, Hannah thought. Ralston had such lofty, ambitious goals. And, of course, she admired him for them.

"Much more than that, my dear; it would provide convenience, improve health care, increase property values, and give folks a sense of peace knowing they needn't travel clear to Grand Rapids should they need specialized care," said Ralston. "Of course, Muskegon is opening a fine facility next year, but that's still a hike for citizens of Sandy Shores,"

Hannah looked at Ralston and smiled. "You and Edgar must have done quite a bit of talking while Alice showed me around her flower garden. It would have been nice to hear some of the discussion,"

His roundish face lengthened to a frown, his brows slanting downward, indicating her statement took him aback. "I'm afraid you would have been quite bored by all of it. Edgar went into a detailed account of the financial aspects of such an undertaking."

A brown and white dog that looked to be the twin of the one they'd found hanging around outside Kane's Whatnot raced across their path in pursuit of a big tabby cat. Ralston had to rein in his horse to give the critters right-of-way, as did an oncoming carriage.

"Bored? Why would you say that? I enjoy hearing about such things, especially when they concern my community. Building a hospital is a very big venture, and it's not as if I don't have a business head. After all, I do take care of the books at Papa's store."

"Yes, well..." Ralston angled her with a dubious look and chuckled low in his chest, as if she'd just made a humorous remark. A tiny seed of indignation that he should assume she would be easily bored by intelligent conversation burrowed itself beneath her skin.

His expression softened. "You're looking quite lovely today, did I tell you that?"

She relaxed only slightly and tried to ignore the fact that he'd brushed over their tiny tiff. "Thank you."

His arms bobbed up and down with the tilting of the wagon as he held on to the reins. A smile formed beneath his mustached lip. "Emerald green always suits you well; it brightens up your pale features."

Without knowing it, he'd turned his compliment into a jab. Yes, emerald green was one of her best colors, but did he have to remind her about her pallid skin tone?

She stewed for a moment longer as they rode for half a block, the breeze cooling her heated cheeks.

"One of the first things I'd like to purchase for us, once my practice becomes better established, is a motor wagon," he announced unexpectedly, interrupting the gentle clip-clop of horses' hooves coming and going on Water Street. Passing them on the opposite side of the street was the Clemson family, all dressed in their Sunday duds and apparently on their way home from the potluck held at the First Baptist Church. Mr. Clemson waved a greeting, and Ralston returned the gesture. "There's a company in Massachusetts that builds gasoline automobiles. I think we'd do well to look into it."

His use of the words us and we, as if he expected her to accept his offer of marriage without any further thought or discussion, created a niggling sensation that started in her heart and moved downward to her toes, which started to wiggle impatiently. Somehow, she needed to broach the subject today without causing a stir. She had certainly considered marriage to Ralston, but only with her father's blessing, and only after she grew to know Ralston better. And then, there was that matter of love. Would she recognize it when it hit?

"Where would you get the gasoline to run it?" she asked.

He tossed her a confident look before directing his horse away from an oncoming buggy moving down the center of the street. `As folks catch on to this modern-day necessity, someone will start supplying filling stations, perhaps even scattering them all about town."

"Filling stations? Automobiles? It all sounds so, I don't know-modern. Whatever would you need a motorcar for when you have a perfectly fine horse and carriage? As a matter of fact, yours is one of the finest conveyances in town."

He looked pleased at her compliment. "True enough, but a motorcar makes a great deal of sense when you think of the miles I have to travel making house calls twice a week."

"That's true, I suppose. What about those electric cars I've been hearing about?"

Ralston shookhis head and made the turn offWater Street, passing Sherman House's three-story structure. Without thinking, Hannah raised her head to see if she might guess which window went to the sheriff's room. Perhaps she'd catch either him or Jesse gazing out over the beautiful waterfront. Foolish notion, she chided herself silently.

"Those won't last. They run too slow, and the few who do own them complain about how frequently the batteries need to charge." He shook his head. "Not the least bit practical, in my opinion."

"Oh." She might have argued that the gasoline contraption seemed just as foolish to her as the electric car, but she held her tongue.

Giving up on finding Mr. Devlin's hotel window, she turned her gaze out over the channel to watch a family of ducks skimming the glassy water, their graceful moves leaving tiny ripples behind them. In a matter of months, they would be waddling on frozen ponds, seeking breaks in the ice to look for food and fluffing up their feathers for extra warmth. Most flew south to a milder climate, but many stuck out the cold and survived it just fine. Hannah pressed down her skirt when it lifted past her ankles in a light gust of wind, held the brim of her hat until the breeze let up, then settled her clasped hands in her lap.

When Ralston found a spot to park his rig, he reined in his horse, Gus, pulled the brake handle into position, and shifted in his seat to face Hannah, so as to gain her full attention. The black Morgan steed, tall and sleek, lowered his royal head and exhaled a fluttering breath from his nostrils.