by Faye Sonja
Hannah smiled. “Well, let me feel what everyone’s always raving about with this face of yours.” Hannah’s face began to roam over the plains of Mark’s face. It was soft, yet still rough in a way. He had a strong square jaw, a straight profiled nose, and Hannah could also feel the bed of lashes that swept over her fingers when he blinked. His face almost felt like it was placed over a marble statue. Even without knowing what he looked like in the flesh, Hannah was sure Mark was just as handsome as the women around town said he was, but she didn’t have to let him know that she thought so. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Mark laughed. “Oh, if only you could borrow my eyes.”
“I do use your eyes. Which is why you can’t go around wearing blindfolds. We both can’t be blind.” Hannah ran her hands through his short hair, finishing off her unguided tour of his face. “Now, as soon as I’m ready, you can leave and give Charlie and me some privacy for his lessons.”
“But Mr. Bishop has a surprise for us,” Charlie said.
Hannah was puzzled and cautious. “A surprise?”
Mark responded. “Hmmm. That’s why I had Faith bring him over early. We’re going to Kansas City.”
Hannah’s heart did a little flutter. “Why?”
Mark grabbed the hands that she’d placed over her heart. She hadn’t known they’d been there. Mark brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Well, Mrs. Bishop, if I told you, then it really wouldn’t be that great of a surprise.
Hannah smiled all the way down to her toes. A surprise? For her? No one had ever surprised her before. Ever. “Will I like the surprise?”
“I can only hope,” Mark replied. “Now, go get ready, or we’ll be late.”
Hannah spun around, so excited, that she quickly became disoriented. “Uh, could you point me in the direction of the room?”
Mark turned her towards the hall. “Here you go, now hurry.”
Hannah did hurry, as quickly as she possibly could. The day had taken an unsuspected turn, but Hannah had a feeling that this was going to be one of those good ones.
* * *
6
“Is it Ours?”
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
“ No one had ever touched her
so sweetly before. No man
had ever kissed her before. ”
.
The ride to Kansas City took all day, but Hannah had told herself not to complain. Mark was going out of his way to do something just for her. She had no right to complain. So, during the journey, she’d sat in the back of the wagon, teaching Charlie to write. Hannah passed the time by teaching Charlie, when Mark wasn’t interrupting them. Most people found writing Braille to be a lot easier than reading it, but Charlie was a quick learner. He was also speaking a lot more than he’d ever done with when it was just her and him alone. Mark had opened Charlie up and the child seemed to blossom with Mark’s attention. At one point, Mark had let Charlie steer. An hour later, ‘Mr. Bishop’ had become ‘Uncle Bishop’ and Hannah, ‘Aunt Hannah’.
During the journey, they’d made two stops to eat and stretch, but most of the day had been spent in the wagon next to their luggage. Hannah had packed her bag once Mark had told her how long it would take them to reach their destination. Apparently, Charlie had packed a bag as well. Faith was allowing them to babysit for the night. With five new children, Faith could probably use all the help she could get.
But Hannah found it remarkable that Mark would volunteer to take care of Charlie. Hannah was his wife, but Charlie was no one to him, and yet, Mark had planned the surprise for both of them. He was truly the most generous man she knew.
“We’re almost there,” Mark announced.
Hannah smiled.
“Good, because my butt hurts,” Charlie complained. Hannah had promised not to complain, but that didn’t mean the boy had taken the same oath. Charlie had kept his comments to a minimum though, which pleased Hannah and she was sure it pleased Mark as well.
When the wagon finally stopped, Hannah was surprised to hear so much noise. Kansas City was alive with activity. “What time is it?”
“Eight.”
“And everyone is still up?” Charlie asked.
Mark came to the back of the wagon and helped them both down. Mark offered his hand to Charlie, who took it, and then turned to Hannah, “Would the lady please take her husband’s elbow?”
Hannah slipped her hand into the bend of his arm. “So good of you to ask.”
“I learn quickly,” Mark replied.
Hannah agreed. Then, they were moving. It didn’t take them long to reach their destination. A door was opened, a tiny bell overhead announced their arrival. Music greeted Hannah immediately. Classical music. She hadn’t heard anything like it since leaving The School. The music was beautiful, light, and romantic. “Where are we?”
“It’s a music store.”
“Are you Mr. Bishop?” The sound of an older man said, his voice fading in as he got closer. Hannah thought the man sounded to be in his sixties as least.
“I am,” Mark replied.
“My client didn’t want to let it go, but when you offered to pay for both of them I, we could hardly refuse the money.”
“What are you buying?” Hannah asked.
Mark started moving, dragging Hannah along. The music grew louder and then stopped.
“Give me your hand,” Mark whispered.
Hannah held her hand out as her heart began to race. Mark’s hand grabbed hers and led it over to something smooth. Hannah’s hands caressed the object’s sides, working her fingers over its flat surface, then moving over a groove and up a long cone that spread out high over the box. A wooden box and an upside down metal cone? “It’s a phonograph.”
“Yes, it is,” Mark replied.
Hannah’s smile grew wider. “It’s a pretty big one.”
“Hmmm,” Mark replied, he was standing behind Hannah now.
“It feels pretty expensive,” Hannah said, as her hands continued to touch the music box.
“It is.”
Hannah’s hands stilled. “They’re going to let us borrow it?”
“No.”
“Is it ours?”
“No, it’s yours.”
Hannah gasped, turned around, reached out for Mark, and once she felt him, buried herself into him. What a gift. What a wonderful and thoughtful gift. “Oh, Mark. It’s too much!”
Mark held Hannah close. “So, I’m guessing you like it?”
“Oh Mark, how could I ever thank you?”
Mark turned them around and moved towards what Thomas Edison was now calling the ‘talking machine’. Picking up one of the records that he’d bought to go along with the machine, Mark placed the disc on the machine and then positioned its needle. Immediately and hauntingly, a beautiful song began to float through the air. “You can pay me back with a dance.”
“Clare De Lune,” Hannah whispered. “How’d you know?” Mark’s hands grabbed her, bringing Hannah towards his body. Together, they danced, Mark leading every step of the way.
“You hum this tune around the house. So, I thought you’d like to hear the song whenever you wanted to.”
Hannah smiled. “You are one of a kind, Mark Bishop.”
Mark leaned his head down, his cheek coming towards hers as they danced a circle. “Only because you make me this way, Mrs. Bishop.”
Hannah was sure if she smiled any brighter, her face would just fall apart. She leaned her head to rest in the crook of Mark’s neck and inhaled deeply. What a man. This man, this dream come true, was all Hannah’s. My, how she loved him. For this one moment in his arms, was worth the entire trip. She would have come just for this moment, but Mark was giving Hannah a gift that cost what most people made over the course of three months, at least.
The sound of piano keys broke into the moment. Hannah pulled away. The noise was hesitant
and unsure. Charlie?
“Did you find something you like?” Mark asked.
Charlie gasped from wherever he was in the room. “Wow! Really, Uncle Mark? I can have a piano?”
“Sure!”
Hannah really pulled back then. “Mark, you’re doing way too much now.”
Mark rubbed her arms. “I want him to have it. I wish I’d had someone to buy me things like that when I was kid.”
That puzzled Hannah, and it clicked in her mind just then. She really didn’t know a lot about the man that she loved. She’d been too afraid to ask too many questions. It would have revealed that she really wasn’t who she said she was. Dwelling on her lie seemed to have shattered the moment. She was a phony. She had to tell Mark the truth, but she didn’t know how. How do you tell someone that they didn’t marry who they’d intended to?
“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” Mark asked.
Hannah turned her head away from him. She couldn’t see him, but she’d forgotten that he could see her. “Uh, nothing. I’m tired now.”
Mark rubbed her back slightly before turning to the store keeper. “We’ll take the piano as well.”
The news pleased the man. They scheduled a time for Mark to come back the next day and they would load the piano and phonograph into the wagon before they headed back home. The trio then smiled and left, heading for a nearby hotel.
As they walked, Hannah stopped. The ticking. It was here. Her hold tightened on Mark’s arm. “Do you hear that?” She asked.
“Hear what?” Mark asked.
“I hear it too!” Charlie shouted.
Charlie’s words must have alerted whomever was following them, because a moment later, the ticking was gone.
“Someone is following us,” Hannah said. She was sure of it now, but Charlie confirmation drove the notion home.
“There are still quite a few people out,” Mark said.
“Do you recognize anyone that has been hanging around Perry Lake?”
It was a moment before Mark responded. “I can’t say that I do, but I’ll keep an eye out for anyone.”
They were moving again. Mark’s arm went around Hannah’s waist then. He no longer cared about what looked proper, he was being cautious now. “We’re almost at the hotel. We’re all going to share a room, that way I can make sure you are both safe.”
Mark’s words made Hannah feel better, but the fear didn’t dissipate. If there was ever a time to have a vision, the time would be now.
* * *
“I can’t believe you’ve never done this before,” Hannah whispered. She was sitting in a boat not too far from the shoreline of Perry Lake. The wind blew off the water, and seemed cool in the early morning air. A pole was in her hand. Sitting across from her was Mark.
“I can,” Mark said, responding to her comment. “This is boring.” There was an annoyance in his tone.
Hannah ignored it. “Shhhh,” she warned. “You’re going to scare the fish away.
“How you do you know? The sun isn’t even up yet. I can barely see. No one gets up this early.”
“Sure they do.”
“Well, those people probably hate their lives. Let’s go back home. Let’s curl back up together in bed.”
Hannah laughed loudly, but then lowered her voice to a giggle. She’d was serious about the fish. She didn’t want to scare them away. “At times, Mark, you are simply too much.”
Mark sighed. “Is that a no?”
Hannah smiled. “It’s a no. Is your line in the water?”
Mark mumbled under his breath. “It’s been in the water for the last half hour.”
“Did you say something, dear?”
“No, Mrs. Bishop,” he said a little louder.
“Fishing takes patience, Mark.”
Mark sighed. “I don’t have a lot of that.”
“Well, it’s never too late to learn.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Alright,” Mark resigned. “I’m going to give this a few more minutes, but if nothing happens, I…”
There was silence.
“What?” Hannah asked.
“Something is on my line!” Mark shouted.
The boat swayed with Mark’s excitement. Hannah grabbed the edges to stabilize herself. “Okay, now pull up with gentle force.”
“I got it!” Mark shouted.
Hannah spoke very calmly. “Don’t jerk too hard, just pull up!”
“It’s a big one, I can feel it.”
The boat rocked a little more and Hannah felt cold water touch her fingers. Panic gripped her, but she didn’t say anything. At the moment, Mark getting his first catch was more important than Hannah getting wet.
“I got it!” Mark shouted. “It’s a beauty.” The boat stopped rocking. Hannah smiled, happy that the boat was once again stable and that Mark had caught a fish.
Mark seemed proud of himself. “I caught this thing all by myself.” A little too proud.
Hannah’s smile brighten. “Oh sure, I was just sitting over here all quiet like.”
“Well,” Mark started. “I suppose you had a little to do with it.”
“Oh, a little. How generous of you, Mr. Bishop.” Hannah held her arms out for the fish.
Mark passed it to her. The fish was quite large. Hannah was impressed. “You’ll have to gut and clean it before I can cook it.”
“Oh, you mean the Mighty Hannah can’t do it all?”
Hannah was almost positive that she was blushing. “Well, everyone needs help every now and then.”
“You don’t say?” Mark teased.
Hannah laughed. Sometimes, Mark reminded her of a child. His happiness grabbed hold of her, forcing her against her will to join in. She’d realized quickly that Mark was mostly an easy going man. He didn’t ask for much. He didn’t expect much from Hannah, and Hannah suspected that it had nothing to do with her blindness.
Now, for someone to be that way means they’d either grown up one of two ways. With enough money to have every dream met, or with so little help to begin with, that you simply get used to doing everything yourself. Before their little trip to Kansas, Hannah thought that it was the former. She thought Mark had been born into money, but his small confession at the music shop proved her assumption wrong. Mark had never received a gift before.
Hannah passed the fish back to Mark, still wearing a smile on her face. “Alright, we can go back to bed now.”
“But I’m just getting started!” Mark interjected.
Hannah huffed. “I thought you wanted to leave? I thought fishing was boring?” she mocked.
“Yeah, well…”
They both laughed.
Hannah grabbed hold of the pole she’d dropped earlier in an effort to hold on to the boat while Mark pulled his catch in. “What am I going to do with you, Mr. Bishop?”
“I don’t know. Love me?”
The laughter in Hannah’s voice faded. She was shocked, but her smile didn’t fall. “I can do that.”
“Yeah?”
Hannah smiled. “Hmmm.”
Mark teased. “Well, don’t go out of your way on my behalf.”
Hannah stilled. “It’s no trouble.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why’s that?”
Hannah’s hand gripped tightly around her fishing pole. “Well, because I already love you, Mr. Bishop.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Oh, and why’s that?”
“Because I love you too.”
Hannah almost felt faint. It must have registered on her face, because the next thing she knew, Mark had moved to her side of the boat. His arms around her. His voice was soft. “A man confesses his love for his wife and she passes out? I don’t think I should say it to you anymore then.”
Hannah’s hands landed on his chest. “Oh, please. Do continue to tell me you love me, whenever you see good and fit.”
There was a pause, but wh
en Mark spoke again, his voice was just above a whisper and close to her face. “Alright, Mrs. Bishop. I’ll make sure to tell it to you every single day.”
Hannah’s smile grew. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
And then Mark kissed her. Hannah didn’t let go of him, not even when she heard her pole hit the water. Nothing could pry her from Mark’s arms. She loved this man so much. Mark was truly God’s greatest gift to her and maybe, she could be Mark’s greatest gift too? Hannah would surely try.
* * *
7
“So, What Are We Going to Do?”
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
“ No one had ever touched her
so sweetly before. No man
had ever kissed her before. ”
.
A few day later, Hannah answered the persistent knocking that rapped on the front door.
“Can I help…?”
The ticking. It was at her door. Dread filled Hannah. She was alone. Mark was at the church. If anything were to happen to Hannah, she couldn’t stop it, and wouldn’t be able to give anyone directions if she were kidnapped. She started to close the door.
“Hannah?” The voice she heard was of a man. Hannah guessed he had to be in his mid-forties. His accent was very New York. She’d recognize an Eastern accent anywhere.
She stopped. “Yes?”
“Hannah Grace?”
Panic spread through Hannah. He knew. How did he know? “What do you want?”
“My name is Jimmy Tumble. I’m a Pinkerton, Mrs. Grace. You’re pa has been looking everywhere for you, Ms. Grace.”
Hannah was surprised. “My Papa?”
“Yes. When he received your body for burial after the train wreck, he told everyone that the body wasn’t yours. People thought him to be crazy, Ms. Grace. They thought he’d gone mad with grief.”
Confusion clouded Hannah’s mind. “Are we still talking about my Papa?” Hannah didn’t believe the man standing before her. Her pa had never been a truly cruel man, but he’d never cared too much for Hannah. Honestly, Hannah hadn’t even thought enough of him to let him know that she wasn’t dead. She didn’t think he would even care, and if he had, perhaps it would have been a relief. If Hannah were dead, her father wouldn’t have to worry about having to take care of her. Death would be the ultimate end to their non-existent relationship. “Are you sure you mean my papa?”
