Hester's Hope

by Danni Roan

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be here to help you with anything you ever need.”

  Chapter 24

  Hester didn’t know what to say, she had felt a strange admiration for Mr. Payton, even attraction, but she was sure that was only a result of her relief in having a steady job.

  “Thank you,” she spoke, pulling her hand away, as her heart picked up its pace. “I’m so grateful to you for all you have done for me and Uncle Hyke. I don’t know how long we would have been able to manage without this job.”

  “I hope it has become more than a job.” Cecil wrapped his hands around his coffee mug, gazing into the depths of the dark brew. “I’d like to think we have become friends.”

  “Friends,” Hester felt her heart swoop then sink. “I’m not sure I had thought of it like that.”

  “I wish you would.” Cecil looked up meeting Hester’s beautiful eyes. “You’ve helped so much with Beverly and Jonas. I was completely lost in what to do with those children.”

  Hester smiled. It had been all too evident that Mr. Payton had been overwhelmed by the two little people in his life. “I’m sure you would have figured it out.”

  Cecil laughed. “I’m really not sure that is true. We had been through nine caregivers in the three months that I was there. I knew the children were grieving and confused, but even to me that seemed excessive. You seem to be made of stouter stuff.”

  “Children are children,” Hester smiled, feeling more comfortable. Around them they could hear the ring of hammers, the swish of brooms and a variety of activity, but at that moment it seemed they were the only two people in the world. “They just needed something to occupy them, and to know that someone realized they were a part of the household.”

  “I don’t think I realized that until you came along. When the children arrived at dinner the night of the big shareholder’s meeting, I was positive it would all fall apart. You pulled it off and made me realize how much the children wanted to be a part of my life. Now, being here, I feel like I’m a part of something important. Putting this house back together, making new friends, getting to know you, it is changing me in ways I don’t even understand.”

  Hester reflected the smile on Cecil’s face, surprised when he reached his hand toward her once more.

  “Friends?”

  “Friends,” Hester nodded taking his hand and squeezing it, as muddled emotions rolled through her fuzzy brain.

  ***

  As the sun began to sink toward the horizon, make-shift tables were spread in the trampled yard and a variety of food, drink, and dessert was spread out for all to share. The children, freed from the restraint of sitting at a formal table, gobbled up everything insight, chatting and getting better acquainted with others of their age.

  Mrs. August brought out every place setting in the cupboards to feed the number of people who had trickled to the house throughout the day.

  Hester couldn’t keep track of all the people anymore, but the squeal and laughter of children as they explored the newly secured yard and out buildings, made her heart fill with joy.

  “The children are having a good time.” A tiny woman with brown hair streaked with gray smiled. “I’m sure your two will fit right in at school.”

  “Mine?” Hester gasped. “Beverly and Jonas aren’t mine.”

  “Maybe not in the traditional sense, but I know that look. I was a teacher before I came to Biders Clump and married Rock Bannon,” she pointed toward a boulder of a man chatting with a group of other men. “Once those children walk into your life they become yours for as long as they’re in your care. It doesn’t matter if they go home to their parents or grow up and move away, they’ll always be ‘your kids’. You know it in your heart.”

  “I do,” Hester smiled. “I’m Hester by the way. She had been up and about for the past few hours and was feeling better by the minute as the fresh air and warmth of the dying sun filled her with strength.

  “Mary Ellen Bannon,” the other woman offered her hand. “Welcome to Biders Clump.”

  As the sun slipped behind the hills, families, friends, and town’s folks loaded up buckboards, buggies, and wagons, as they headed back to the town. The house had all but been turned over, the barn repaired, and every inch of the out buildings, cleaned and secured. It had been a remarkable and very memorable day.

  “I’ve never been so exhausted in my life,” Mrs. August fanned herself as she put the last dish in the cupboard. “I’m still not sure what happened here.”

  “We made new friends,” Hester smiled at the housekeeper. “We aren’t in the city anymore, and protocol here is a little different. Think on all the things that were accomplished today by our new friends.”

  “I’m not even afraid to go down into that cellar now,” Mrs. August admitted. It’s as clean as this kitchen, and there is so much space for storing canned goods and supplies. Perhaps Mr. Payton would hire someone to put in a garden. We could put up winter fare.”

  Hester stared at the older woman, surprised at being included in the collective we. “I think you’ll adjust to life here in Wyoming after all,” she grinned.

  Mrs. August sagged visibly before the younger woman. “I think I might like this less formal life. Once I get a good rest.”

  Hester reached out squeezing Mrs. August's hand. “Why don’t you go up to bed? Hyke and I will finish up here.” She could hear her uncle making his way up from the cellar where he had been splitting wood for the cook stove.

  “Are you sure you feel well enough?”

  “Positive. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Hester,” Jonas and Beverly raced into the kitchen, their faces shining with the excitement of the day. “Will you come tuck us in?”

  “I’ll be along in a few minutes,” Hester agreed. “Go say good night to your uncle.”

  The sound of racing feet was their reply, and soon Hester could hear them wishing their uncle good night.

  “You’re good for them.” Mrs. August smiled, turning and walking toward the stairs and a good night’s sleep.

  “You’re looking better,” Hyke said, wrapping an arm around his niece. “How’s the head,” he added placing a kiss on her forehead.

  “It still aches a little, but I am feeling better. A bit overwhelmed with all the activity today.”

  “What else is troubling you?” Hyke stepped back studying Hester with care.

  “Nothing I’m ready to talk about yet.” Hester ducked her head. She had never been able to hide anything from the only guardian she had ever known. “I need to say prayers with the children.” She slipped away leaving her uncle to shake his head and get his own coffee.

  ***

  The quietness of the house pressed in on Hester, who sleep still eluded, despite the lateness of the hour.

  It had been an eventful day and her rampaging emotions did nothing to help settle her mind. She loved the sense of being a part of a community, was thrilled that the children were making friends and behaving like children, and was completely confused by her feelings for Cecil Payton.

  His offer of friendship, his recognition of her had muddled her emotions, and now she lay staring at the freshly cleaned windows trying to understand what she truly felt for the man.

  Mr. Payton was handsome; the girl in her couldn’t deny that fact. He was also kind, vulnerable and a little out of his depth. The fact that he was her employer, and that she had been hired to tend children, not fall for him, caused her heart to ache.

  Rolling over and burying her face in her newly cleaned pillow, Hester groaned. The fact was, she liked Mr. Payton as more than a friend. Perhaps the man could accept her as a friend, but the truth was she was no more than the hired help, and when her usefulness was through, she would have to strike out to invent herself all over again.

  None of it made any sense. Hester had always thought that love was a feeling that swooped in, sweeping you off of your feet on a wave of emotion and joy. Instead, being completely honest with h
erself, she realized it was a relationship built on mutual trust and a shared purpose. She was no match for Mr. Payton. Only a simple girl from the city, she knew that a man of his means should marry well, ensuring his wealth and legacy would live on.

  No matter how she argued with her rebellious heart, Hester couldn’t deny that somewhere between New York and the wilds of Wyoming, she had fallen in love with Mr. Cecil Payton.

  ***

  “What are you doing?” Jonas asked Hester as she dipped her paint brush into a bucket, spreading a fresh white coat over the faded wood on the front porch. The bright sun of a new day washed over the scrubbed area, and Hester smiled.

  “I’m starting to paint,” Hester replied. “We want the house to look nice don’t we?”

  “Why are you painting instead of Hyke or Uncle Cecil?” The boy walked up the stairs.

  “Hyke has already started up there,” Hester pointed toward the roof. “He’s painting the second floor.”

  “Can I help?” the boy grinned looking for the ladder.

  “Only if you stay down here with me,” Hester gave the boy a hard look.

  “Who’s staying where?” Beverly walked around the corner.

  “I’m going to help Hester paint,” Jonas grinned.

  “I want to help,” Beverly enthused.

  “You can’t help,” Jonas retorted. “You’re a girl.”

  “Hester’s a girl too,” Beverly placed a hand on her hip, shaking her head at her brother.

  “You can both help,” Hester laughed. “I’ll show you how.” Within minutes, both children held brushes in their hands, and Hester was glad that the porch floor would also be getting a coat of fresh paint, since dribbles were already coating the faded wood. She wasn’t sure if she was painting or cleaning up after the children, but soon they seemed to settle into a steady rhythm, and both children began to improve.

  ***

  Cecil staked the last goat out near an overgrown area of the property, smiling as a baby goat leapt in the air, twisting, and landing with another hop. Turning, he caught a glimpse of Hester teaching the children to paint their new home. He never would have dreamed that his two spoiled wards would deign to lift a paintbrush.

  Crossing his arms, Cecil watched the scene before him, his heart swelling in his chest. Hester Johnson was more than he had expected. He had hired her out of desperation, and now he couldn’t imagine his life without her. His offer of friendship from the night before was a pale reflection of how he truly felt about her.

  Over the years of wandering a country full of beauty and wonder, Cecil had always believed that love would be a lightning strike from the blue, but this had crept up on him, like a stalking cat. Perhaps it was really just a sense of relief and appreciation for all the things the young woman had done, but something told Cecil that the truth was he had fallen in love with Hester Johnson.

  Running a hand along his stubbled jaw, he pondered the situation. Could he win Miss Johnson’s heart and hand? Could he make her a part of his life and heart for good?

  “What are you standing around for,” Hyke’s voice over his shoulder made Cecil jump guiltily. “I’ve been up on the porch roof for an hour already, and it’s your turn to paint the eaves. My neck hurts.”

  The old man handed Cecil a bucket and paintbrush turning and heading for the kitchen and a well earned break.

  Cecil chuckled. It hadn’t taken Hyke long to find his balance in this new home. The man never shirked any job, and had done as much and more to make the place a home. The lack of formal attire, staid conversation and fancy fare seemed to be exactly what the man needed to reach his stride.

  “Don’t drink all the coffee!” Cecil shouted after Hyke, who simply waved a hand in dismissal.

  Life had changed so much in the past few months, leaving Cecil uncertain of his future, at least until now.

  Chapter 25

  Hester bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the mess the children were becoming. She suspected that almost as much paint was on them as was on the wall, but they were so determined and satisfied that she couldn’t scold them.

  “You two carry on,” she said, straightening from where she had been trimming around the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on Jonas,” Beverly replied seriously.

  “I don’t need you to watch me,” Jonas barked back.

  Hester’s heart was light as she flounced around the side of the house, grabbing a bucket and heading for the pump. If she had the children wash their hands regularly, cleaning them up later would be much easier. Their clothing however was another issue all together. Hester could wash them and keep them for the next time they painted.

  Peering behind her to see that the children were still working well, Hester slammed into something solid, a woof of air springing from her lips as strong arms grasped her.

  “Excuse me,” she blustered looking up into Mr. Payton’s face. “I should have been watching where I was going.”

  Cecil’s smile seemed to send little shivers into Hester’s stomach and she grew silent meeting his warm eyes.

  “You aren’t hurt are you?” Cecil asked.

  Hester shook her head, not trusting her voice.

  Cecil reached out brushing a spot of paint from Hester’s face with the pad of his thumb, feeling warmth run through him at her soft sigh. “You have paint on your face,” he whispered, his eyes still glued to hers.

  “What?” Hester asked. She felt like she was going to fly into the sky, her whole body felt light and weightless.

  “Paint,” Cecil leaned closer, brushing his thumb down her cheek.

  “Oh.”

  “The children seem happy,” Cecil felt like he couldn’t put a cohesive thought together. He was speaking nonsense, but didn’t care as long as Hester would stay there in his arms.

  “Yes, the children.” Hester couldn’t get her brain to function as her eyes traced the line of Cecil’s lips. “Happy.”

  Cecil’s lips met Hester’s in a gentle kiss, growing deeper as she draped her arms around his neck, the tin bucket in her hand bumping his back.

  His arms wound tighter around her waist, pulling her close as his heart reached for her. “Hester,” he whispered against her lips. Kissing her again as she hummed softly.

  Slowly, Cecil released the woman in his arms. He had no right to kiss her. “I’m sorry,” he said dropping his head. “I have no right.”

  Hester took a step back feeling the cool air whisk away the heat from a moment ago. “Of course,” she stammered, stepping around him and heading toward the pump, her face flaming.

  “No!” Cecil growled turning and grasping Hester’s arm, spinning her toward him. “I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry at all. Maybe I don’t have the right to kiss you Hester Johnson, but I want to. I care for you. I don’t know how or when or why it happened, all I know is that it’s true. You are more than a friend to me.”

  Hester gasped studying the handsome man’s face. He cared for her, not just as a friend, but as something more. “I feel the same way,” she smiled. “I don’t understand how it happened, but I feel a connection between us, a link that could be so much more.”

  Cecil’s smile brightened. “Hester Johnson, you are all the things I never knew I needed. I don’t know how to express it but,” he ran a hand behind his neck. “I’d like to find out.”

  Hester smiled back at him, feeling her heart quiver. “I think I’d like that.”

  A loud shout and heavy clatter made both of them jump, and Hester dropped her bucket grabbing her skirts as she sprinted back the way she had come.

  “You can’t do that!” Jonas yelled at his sister. “Now look at what you made me do.”

  Skidding around the corner of the house, Hester and Cecil both watched in horror as Jonas ran his paint brush down his sister’s arm.

  “Stop!” Beverly shouted, smacking him on the shoulder with her own brush. “I’m the boss.”

  “No you aren’t,” Jonas’s
brush descended toward his sister’s hair and Hester sprinted toward them, grabbing his hand at the last second.

  “What’s this all about?” She snapped as Cecil pulled Bev away.

  “Beverly said I couldn’t paint around the window,” he pointed toward the once clean glass, now partially covered in white paint.

  “He’s making a mess,” Beverly retorted.

  “You made me spill my paint.” Jonas shouted back.

  Hester looked down at the pool of paint spreading across the flooring. “Jonas, go to the pump and wash up,” she demanded. “There will be no more painting for you. You will go to your room and wait until I can speak to you.”