Hannah's Beau

by Renee Ryan

  He rose slowly, deliberately, and then sent her a suave half smile. “How I’ve missed you.”

  Pressure built in her chest and stole her breath. “Oh, Beau, can you forgive me?”

  “It is I who needs to be forgiven.” The sorrow in his eyes was real. “I’ve been a stupid, stupid man, ignoring the blessing right in front of me. Well, I see you now. And I see my mistakes. I should have asked you to marry me before I spoke to your father.”

  “I should have given you the chance to tell me about your church.”

  He shook his head.

  She gave him a wobbly smile.

  The noise increased, making it hard to speak without shouting. Hannah looked around, tugged him farther away from the stage and into a private nook under the rigging.

  “I’m leaving the company tonight,” she told him once they were nestled in the quiet alcove.

  His eyes met hers, and in them she saw what she’d missed in her father’s parlor. Beau was prepared to treat her as his equal. “Mavis told me.”

  She made a watery sound in her throat. “Did Mavis also tell you we were starting our search for you?”

  “She did.”

  Ah, Mavis. The dear old woman was better than any godmother in a Grimm’s fairy tale.

  “You never let me explain about my new church.”

  His gray eyes blazed so brightly with conviction, the heat of shame warmed her face.

  Hannah lowered her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He placed his finger under her chin and applied pressure. As her chin rose, Hannah had to fight the urge to look away from his face. But she forced herself to keep her gaze locked with his.

  “I didn’t accept the position in Greeley,” he said. “I turned your father down that night in his office.”

  In the face of his declaration, it was remarkable Hannah’s knees didn’t give out. As Beau had once done to her, she’d judged him without knowing the complete facts. Yet he didn’t hold her mistake against her. He’d come to find her, with love shining in his eyes.

  Oh, Lord, thank you.

  “I…You’re going to continue traveling as before?” she asked.

  “No.” He smiled. “God has a different plan for me, for us.”

  Hannah blinked. “Oh?”

  “I’m starting a new church, outside of Denver, right next to—”

  “Charity House.”

  “Precisely.”

  A sense of rightness filled her. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Marc planted a seed months ago,” Beau said. “One I nearly let die. The orphans at Charity House need a spiritual shepherd, as do their mothers and others like them.”

  “It makes perfect sense.”

  “Although the Rocky Mountain Association won’t offer any support or assistance, your father will. Actually, he’s been giving me advice in the initial planning stages.”

  Her father giving Beau advice on a church designed to open its doors to all people? Oh, how far they’d all come.

  “I would have been here sooner, but I wanted to have some stability to offer you first.”

  “Oh, Beau, my home will be wherever you are. I will follow wherever you go. So, you see, I don’t need stability.”

  “Maybe I do. Maybe I need to know I can give you more than a vagabond life.”

  She cocked her head. “What if God uproots us?”

  “Then we go. Together.” His eyes glittered, and he tugged her hand against his heart. “You said you were coming in search of me? Where did you plan to start that search?”

  “In Greeley. I wanted you to know I would support you wherever God leads.”

  He stared at her with awe and love in his eyes. “Will you consider coming back to Denver and assisting me in my new adventure?”

  Her heart dropped to her toes, bounced, then hung suspended for a split second before settling back in place. “Assist you?”

  His eyes never left her face, but a charming O’Toole grin slid on his lips. “I need your help.”

  “My help?”

  “Starting a new church is too big a job for one man to accomplish alone.”

  “Too big a job?”

  His grin turned into a full, heart-stopping smile. It was a weapon against which she had no defense.

  “Are you going to keep repeating my words?” he asked.

  She cocked her head at him, searched his eyes. Beauregard O’Toole was up to something. “Are you going to ask me the right question?”

  “I’ll need a helpmate to start my church.”

  “A helpmate.”

  “A wife,” he blurted out. “I need a wife.” He shook his head. “That had to be the worst proposal ever. Second only to the last one, when I told you we were getting married. Hannah, I—”

  She placed her finger against his lips. “I kind of like this most recent proposal of yours. In fact, I think it’s going rather well.”

  “Do you like it enough to say yes?”

  “How can I? You haven’t actually asked me a question.”

  He lowered to one knee. Threads of light from the stage cascaded in his hair. Her golden knight. No, better, her rebel preacher.

  “Hannah, will you marry me?” His voice came out grave. “Will you assist me in doing God’s work? Will you stand by me, no matter where life takes us, even when I’m an arrogant son of an actor?”

  “How could I refuse such a lovely offer?”

  He slowly rose to his feet and placed both hands on her shoulders. “Is that a yes?”

  “No.”

  His face fell. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

  “It’s an ab-so-lutely.”

  He abandoned restraint and pulled her into his arms. “That’s more like it.” He pulled back and gave her an arrogant wink. “We’ll get married right away. No arguments. I’m not going to risk losing you again.”

  “You know, Beau.” She turned her head at a saucy angle. “Sometimes your arrogance is really rather appealing.”

  “I’ll remember you said that.”

  “Well, remember this. I’ll marry you, yes. Under two conditions.”

  “Two?” He set her away from him and studied her face for a long moment. Then he smiled. “Only two?”

  Apparently, he was in the mood for teasing now. “One.” She pointed her finger toward the ceiling. “We get married right away.”

  “Makes sense to me.” He regarded her with a triumphant look. “Since I already said that.”

  Enjoying herself immensely, she pursed her lips. “You scoundrel.”

  He gave her a careless shrug. “I’m working on my arrogant streak.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and tried not to smile. “You still have a ways to go.”

  Ignoring her comment, he touched a strand of her hair, twirled it around his fingertip, then looked back into her eyes. “What’s your other condition?”

  She took a deep breath and forced a serious expression onto her features. “We adopt Mavis.”

  He stared at her. Blinked. Stared at her awhile longer. “Isn’t she a little old for adoption?”

  Up went her chin. “I think she’s the perfect age.”

  “Hannah Southerland, you are an eccentric woman, and I love you with all my heart.” He punctuated his words with a soft kiss to her lips.

  “I love you, too, Beau.” This time she didn’t have to feign her serious expression.

  He cupped her cheek in his hand and smiled.

  “So, what do you say about adopting Mavis?” she asked on a wispy sigh.

  He kissed her on the nose. “Done.”

  “I knew you’d see things my way.”

  A single eyebrow shot up. “Now who needs to work on their arrogant streak?”

  “We’ll work on them together.”

  He laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. “It’ll probably take us a lifetime.”

  “I have the stomach for it, if you do.”

  He laughed again.

  “I lo
ve you, Beauregard O’Toole,” she whispered in his ear.

  “I love you, too, Mrs. O’Toole.”

  “Mrs. O’Toole?” She pulled slightly away and lifted her head.

  “Just checking to see how it sounds.”

  Mavis chose that moment to join their happy twosome. With a gnarled finger, she poked Beau on the shoulder.

  He released Hannah and looked down at the scowling woman. “May I help you?”

  “Are we getting married or not? Yes or no, boy?”

  Beau pivoted and kissed Mavis on the cheek. “I say, yes!”

  Mavis snorted. “’Bout time.”

  Beau reached out a hand to both women and pulled them against him. “What say we make our final exit and start our life together right away?” He looked down at Hannah with love shining in his eyes. “Yes or no, woman?”

  A lone tear slipped from her eye. “I say, yes!”

  Epilogue

  Hannah and Beau’s wedding day arrived on a snow-filled morning in late November. Beau had requested the ceremony take place at Charity House. Hannah had immediately agreed.

  Of course, once her friends at the orphanage took over, the simple ceremony in Marc’s study had turned into an elaborate affair that required an additional three weeks to organize.

  Beau, being Beau, hadn’t complained.

  Hannah, being Hannah, had resolved to make the celebration well worth the many delays.

  With that silent promise in mind, Hannah spent all morning preparing for the big event. Determined to impress her groom, she took special care dressing, paying particular attention to her hair. Confident she’d done her best, she pinned the last ribbon in place, brushed a barely noticeable wrinkle from her skirt and strolled to the window overlooking Charity House’s backyard.

  The cold mountain air seeped past the window casing and whispered across her face. Taking a moment to settle her nerves, Hannah dragged the coolness into her lungs and took in God’s splendor before her.

  The sun shone in a cloudless sky, soaring over a world washed clean with snow. A gentle breeze swirled a transparent, frosty mist along the top layer of flakes. Off in the distance, the western peaks wore a heavy blanket of glossy white.

  Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for her future with Beau.

  Heavenly Father, I pray You mold me into a good and decent wife. Bless my marriage to this wonderful man and make us better together than we could ever be apart. I pray this in Your Son’s name, Amen.

  Opening her eyes, she returned her attention to the yard. She traced the perimeter with her gaze, noting with joy how it backed into the empty lot where they’d soon break ground on their new church. She would always remember the look of admiration in Beau’s eyes when she’d told him she’d sold some of her Chicago property to buy the land and materials needed for the building.

  If she squinted, Hannah could almost see the church in her mind. God’s house would be sturdy and tall, with an impressive white steeple and a long line of eclectic members seeking refuge. A—

  The door swung open and hit the wall with a thud. She jumped away from the window and spun quickly around. Her shock turned to pleasure as she caught sight of Laney entering the room.

  “Oh, Hannah.” Laney gasped, her words coming out in a rush of pleasure. “You’re beautiful.”

  There was no time for a response. One breath, two, and Hannah was pulled into Laney’s tight embrace.

  Overwhelmed with joy, Hannah clung to her new friend, her sister in Christ.

  One more solid squeeze and Laney released her. “The guests are all assembled in the parlor. We just need—” she stretched out her hand “—the bride.”

  Smiling, Hannah reached out, as well, but a deep-pitched clearing of a throat had her dropping her hand and peering toward the masculine sound.

  “Father,” she said in surprise. “I thought you were waiting with Beau.”

  “I was.” He moved deeper into the room with his usual air of authority. “I would like to speak with you first.”

  He sounded so formal. So distant. So like the father she’d always feared. But then he smiled, revealing a dimple in his left cheek, and Hannah immediately relaxed. Praise God, the cold man of her childhood no longer existed.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Laney squeezed Hannah’s hand and quickly left the room.

  Alone with her father, Hannah stood very still, very attentive. What had he come to say? Would she know how to answer?

  Seeming in no hurry to speak, he scanned the room and then flicked a glance out the window. Moving closer, he rocked back on his heels and studied the pristine scenery with a blank, unreadable expression.

  Anxiety churned in her stomach. Had the venerable reverend changed his mind about supporting her marriage to Beau?

  She held her breath as he turned to face her again. But when their eyes met, Hannah saw nothing more than nervousness staring back at her. Not judgment. Not second thoughts. Merely the genuine unease of a father releasing his daughter to another man.

  That knowledge gave Hannah the courage to break the silence herself. “I’m grateful you agreed to perform the ceremony, Father. It means a lot to Beau and me.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it.” He pulled in a deep breath, released it slowly. “You make a beautiful bride, my dear. Just like your mother on our wedding day.” Tears formed in his eyes.

  Love and hope blossomed in her heart. “I…thank you.”

  “I have something for you.” He stuck his hand into one of the inner pockets of his coat and pulled out a small velvet-coated box.

  At the sight of the familiar container, Hannah willed her own tears into submission with a hard swallow.

  “Oh, Father,” she said, curling her fingers into the soft velvet. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to.”

  The look in his eyes stole her breath. It was the look of fatherly love. The look she’d craved all her life but feared would never come.

  “Go on, Hannah. Open my gift.”

  With trembling fingers, she flipped back the lid, and gasped at the emerald pendant winking up at her.

  “It was your mother’s,” he said, his voice storming with emotion.

  Blinking rapidly, Hannah concentrated on the necklace. On the black velvet box. On anything but the fresh ache in her chest. “I remember,” she whispered. “She only wore it once a year, on Easter Sunday.”

  He smiled. “The stone reminded her of spring, renewed life and—”

  “The Resurrection.”

  “She would want you to have it.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to have it.”

  His softly uttered words staggered her, and the muscles in her throat quivered, making a response impossible.

  Silently, she handed him the necklace and turned to face the mirror. “Will you help me with the clasp?” she choked out.

  “Of…course.”

  She lowered her head and waited.

  He hesitated. Then, with unsteady fingers, he fastened the pendant around her neck.

  When she lifted her head, she caught his gaze in their shared reflection.

  A lone tear slid down his cheek.

  “I’m forever grateful the Lord brought you back to me,” he said on a shallow breath.

  Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and then faced him directly. It was time she set aside the last of her foolish pride. There could be no more excuses now. After years of deception and misplaced loyalties, Rachel no longer stood between them.

  Lifting her chin, Hannah gave her father a shaky smile. “I love you…Daddy.”

  A strangled sound whipped from his throat, and he roped her tightly against him.

  “And I you, my beloved daughter.”

  The hug was short. But when he stepped back, another tear trailed down his cheek.

  The reflex to scrub at her own eyes came fast, but he lifted his hand and wiped her face with the pad of his thumb.

  “Our time is up, Hannah,” he said softly.
“Your groom is waiting.”

  As if on cue, Laney reappeared in the doorway. “Is the bride ready?”

  Hannah inhaled deeply, touched her fingertip to the emerald pendant growing warm against her skin. “Yes.”

  Her father pivoted on his heel.

  “Father, wait.”

  He turned, a question in his gaze.

  Lifting to her toes, she placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

  With pure delight in his eyes, he gave her shoulder a quick pat and then headed down the hallway that led to the back entrance of the parlor.

  Arm in arm, Laney and Hannah made their way to the front of the house. At the sound of voices lowered to muted whispers, Hannah stopped midstride. Much to her surprise, a surge of nervousness swept through her. She hadn’t been this anxious before, not even the first time she’d graced the stage as a leading lady.

  Happiness overwhelmed her to think her life would now be guided by the Master Director, the Ancient of Days—her Heavenly Father.

  Laney gently unwound their arms. “This is where I leave you, my friend.”

  Swallowing, Hannah nodded.

  With a quick smile and a backward glance over her shoulder, the other woman disappeared into the room. Stomach twisting into a dozen knots, Hannah peeked around the corner after her.

  Every orphan was in attendance, grinning from ear to ear and, of course, fidgeting. She counted at least ten adults lined against the outer wall. Thankfully, it didn’t take Hannah long to locate Mavis sitting on the floor amidst a group of the younger children. Several had managed to climb onto her lap.

  As though she sensed Hannah’s eyes on her, Mavis looked up and winked.

  Hannah winked back, and just like that her nervousness melted away. She was among friends. People who loved her. People she loved in return.

  Feeling more confident, Hannah moved into the center of the threshold and met her father’s gaze. His tenderness, his quiet acceptance silenced her remaining apprehension.

  Chin up, Hannah finally turned her attention to her groom. Their gazes locked. A low buzz filled her ears, and everyone else in the room faded.

  In the span of a single heartbeat, a thousand words passed between them.

  Beau. Her Beau.