A thud sounded overhead and Fiona squeezed her hand. “The boys are awake. I need to start their breakfast.”
Hannah squeezed Fiona’s hand in return. “And I have pumpkins to get in the oven.”
While Fiona made breakfast and sent her boys off to school, Hannah cleaned and baked the pumpkins. The slices were on the counter, cooling so she’d be able to peel and mush the fruit to use for pies, when the door opened. She was glad to not be holding the pan. If hearing Teddy’s voice had made her drop the knife, the sight of him now would have had her dumping the entire pan of pumpkin on the floor.
His eyes were shining like usual, but so were his cheeks. They were red from the cold wind, but it was the smile on his face that made him look even more charming than ever. More handsome.
* * *
Teddy thought he knew what to expect, as they’d only been gone a couple of hours, but the sight of Hannah caught him off guard. The smear of flour across her cheek, along with the apron that made her stomach more prominent, made her look beyond pretty. Beyond beautiful. She looked like a wife. A wife a man would want to come home to. And that had his blood pounding harder than when he’d shot the turkey. He didn’t want a wife, dang it. So why did she make him think along those lines all the time?
His hearing seemed to kick in from nowhere and he turned toward Fiona.
“Yes,” he replied to her question about whether they’d had any luck. “We got a big one. Must be close to thirty pounds.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Fiona replied as she glanced at Hannah. “Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Hannah said before turning her back on him.
“Where’s Brett?” Fiona asked.
“Getting a tub,” Teddy answered. “He asked me to have you put water on to boil.” His gaze kept bouncing back to Hannah. She was as attractive from the back as she was the front. Her blond hair was tied at the nape of her neck and the long curls hung down her back almost to her apron ties.
“Of course, but he doesn’t plan on cleaning it, does he?” Fiona asked while she added a log to the firebox of the cookstove.
“We figured you two were busy enough,” Teddy answered. “Thought we’d go ahead and clean it.”
“Nonsense.” Fiona crossed the room and grabbed a shawl hanging by the door. “He’s the one who has to work today. I’ll be right back.”
Hannah turned around as the door closed. When their eyes met, he said, “I think we’ll leave them alone for a moment.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” she replied.
The smile on her face made his heart thud. Drawn forward, he paused when she took a step sideways—away from him. Flustered because he shouldn’t be drawn to her, he searched for an excuse as to why he’d moved. Eyeing a kettle on the counter, he said, “I’ll fill this with water and put it on the stove.” He then quickly asked, “How’s your hand?”
She shook her head slightly. “Fine. I’ll get another kettle. If the bird is as large as you say, we’ll need plenty of hot water.”
“It’s as big as I say,” he assured. “One of the biggest turkeys I’ve ever seen.” Setting the pot on the stove, he asked, “Do you like turkey?”
“Of course. Who doesn’t like turkey?”
“I certainly do.” He crossed the room to collect one of the buckets filled with water. “But then there’s not a whole lot I don’t like. How about you?”
“Nothing that I can think of.” She set the second kettle on the stove. “However, I have made some things that weren’t very tasty.”
He laughed while filling both pots with water. “I have, too.”
She frowned. “You cook?”
“Every day.” He set the empty bucket on the table. “Except for the meals I eat at the hotel.”
“What about Abigail? Doesn’t she cook?”
“As little as possible, luckily.” He turned about and smiled. “Her cooking is worse than mine.”
“It is?”
“Abigail’s usually so busy writing, she burns everything.” Noting her frown, he changed the subject while nodding toward the counter. “Are you making pumpkin pies?”
“Yes.” Her smile was as soft as her voice. “Do you like pumpkin pie?”
“It just happens to be my favorite.”
“I’m using my grandmother’s recipe.”
“I can hardly wait.”
Silence encircled around them as they stood there, Hannah near the stove, him next to the table, their gazes locked. He wanted to say something, but the heart in his chest hammered against his rib cage, stealing his ability to form a single rational thought. Other than ones about how blue her eyes were, and how they kept moving slightly, as if she wanted to look away but couldn’t.
The lines of her face were soft and graceful, and the lashes around her eyes long and dark. Her lips were pale pink and glistening. This time he counteracted the pull inside him that had him wanting to step closer to her by resting a hand on the back of a chair.
Like every other time he laid eyes on her, a deep sense of wisdom or logic, or some other sensation he couldn’t quite explain, overcame him. Perhaps it wasn’t her he was drawn to as much as it was her condition. It reminded him of Becky and the baby he’d already looked forward to before she’d told him the wedding was off. That she was marrying the baby’s father. He’d been hurt and disappointed, but never let it show. Abigail had. She’d been furious, and when she had taken out her anger in her newspaper articles, he’d sought out a new town looking for a newspaper. Within a month, he and Abigail had moved. Two years later, they’d moved again, to Oak Grove. When they’d arrived, he’d promised himself, and warned Abigail, this was their last move. He wasn’t hauling that press another mile ever again.
Frustrated that he was remembering all that, and that Hannah was the reason, he glanced away. The best thing that could happen would be for her to marry one of the men on that list she’d written out.
The list was in his pocket, and at the moment seemed to be singeing his thigh. He’d carried it with him every day and thought nonstop about giving it back to her, but—“Who else will be here tomorrow?” he asked.
“No one that I know of,” she answered. “Angus stopped by yesterday, to let us know that he’ll be taking his meal with Maggie and Jackson.”
Angus O’Leary was an eccentric old Irish bachelor who had more money than he had brains. That wasn’t true. Angus was smarter than men half his age, which had to be pushing three-quarters of a century, and he knew how to charm the ladies. Perhaps it was his tall top hat, or his three-piece suits, but women adored the old codger.
Including Hannah.
Every Sunday, and whenever there was a community event, Angus was the one to escort Hannah. Old or not, Angus took his role of keeping others at bay when it came to Hannah seriously, and did a fine job of it.
Up until this moment, Teddy hadn’t considered that. How well Angus kept others at bay, including those on her list.
“Why?” she asked.
“Just making sure there will be plenty of pie for me.” That wasn’t the reason, but he wasn’t exactly sure what his reasons were. Or why it mattered to him at all.
A shy smile formed as she shook her head slightly. “You certainly must like pumpkin pie, Mr. White.”
“I do,” he admitted, “and do you think you could call me Teddy? I assure you it wouldn’t be improper. Most everyone in town does, even Rhett and Wyatt, and you do call Angus by his first name.”
“Yes, I do,” she said. “Because he insists upon it.”
Suddenly it meant a lot to him to have her call him by his first name, too. “Will it help if I insist, too? Because I will.”
She shook her head, but the smile that grew on her lips gave him hope.
A clatter on the back steps and the o
pening of the door stopped her from answering. Teddy had to swallow a growl of frustration at the interruption as Brett and Fiona walked in. He should be happy about the interruption. Actually, he should just leave.
“My wife and I have come to a compromise,” Brett said, grinning down at Fiona. “She and Hannah will finish making us breakfast while we clean the turkey you shot. How’s that sound, Ted?”
“Sounds like a fair deal to me,” Teddy answered while he gaze once again settled on Hannah. “How does that sound to you, Hannah?”
Her cheeks took on a pink tinge as she nodded. “I believe that is a very fair deal, Teddy.”
Chapter Four
Teddy shut the door of the cupboard he’d thoroughly searched and crossed the room to yell up the stairway. “Abigail, where’s that jar of pickles I bought from Rollie?” Their print shop took up the front two rooms of the building, but the back three rooms as well as the three bedrooms upstairs were their living quarters.
“Why?” Abigail asked as she appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Because I need to take them to Brett’s,” Teddy replied.
Tying the bow of her flowered hat beneath her chin, she started down the stairs. “I ate them.”
“You ate them?”
“Yes. I was up late writing last night and got hungry.”
Normally he didn’t anger easy, but her statement unleashed the coil of frustration that sat inside him lately. “Now what am I supposed to take to Brett’s?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll have plenty to eat.”
“That’s not the point,” he growled. Overlooking her attitude was not in him today. Hadn’t been the past few days. Never overly pleasant, she’d been even pricklier lately. “It’s good manners to take a gift to the host,” he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes, but said, “You could join the mayor and I at Rollie’s.”
Her attitude irked him. She was his sister, therefore he loved her, but on occasion didn’t like her much. “Is that why you’ve been so testy lately? Because I’m not joining you?”
“You should be joining me,” she said.
There were also times when arguing with her wasn’t worth the effort, and this was one of them. He crossed the room and grabbed his hat off the coatrack.
“Before history repeats itself,” she said.
Although he’d kept his thoughts of late hidden, he should’ve known she’d say something about Hannah sooner or later. “There is no history to repeat.”
“Do you think I’m blind? Or have you forgotten how devastated you were the last time you took up with a pregnant woman?”
“Give the Austins my best,” he growled as he opened the door and strode out.
She shouted his name, but he kept walking, ignoring her. He hadn’t forgotten anything about Becky, including how Abigail had reacted. She’d been against him marrying Becky and then furious when it hadn’t happened.
Giving his head a clearing shake, he looked up at the bright blue sky and told himself he was attending dinner at Brett’s place for no other reason than Brett was his best friend and had invited him. There was no history to repeat itself because he would never fall in love again. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Abigail was right. He had been devastated when Becky had cast him aside. He was older now, and smarter, and would never go down that road again.
Several hours later, Teddy wondered if he should have gone with Abigail. Brett and Fiona were gracious hosts and the meal had quite easily been the best he’d ever eaten. However, the joy that kept weaving its way around inside him came from Hannah. She was happier than he’d ever seen her. Talkative and carefree as she teased Rhett and Wyatt about eating so much they’d forget their parts in the upcoming recital.
It could just be the jubilation filling the house that was affecting him. Children had a way of doing that, and Rhett and Wyatt, who were five and seven, kept everyone at the table laughing.
Both boys had speaking parts in the program the new teacher had prepared for the entire community. The children were to recite the Thanksgiving proclamation President Abraham Lincoln had delivered back in 1863, making the day a national holiday. The boys insisted the more they ate, the better they’d perform and shortly after their plates were empty, they were itching to leave.
“Rhett and Wyatt sure are excited,” Teddy said to Hannah as he closed the door behind them.
The boys had been the first out the door, followed by Brett and Fiona, who’d given a quick apology, stating they needed to hurry or the boys would have their suits dirty before they got to school. Teddy had no choice but to assure them that was fine, that he’d escort Hannah to the school.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said sheepishly. “I just can’t move as fast as I used to.”
“No reason to be sorry,” he said. “We aren’t in a hurry.”
“The boys are,” she said. “They’ve been practicing their lines all week.”
He chuckled. “I think I heard the entire proclamation while we were eating.”
She giggled. “I’ve heard it for the past week. I think I know it by heart.”
“The new teacher must be doing a good job,” he said. “I don’t ever remember being that excited about anything happening at school.”
The smile on Hannah’s face as she glanced his way made his heart kick like an old mule. “I imagine you were an excellent student.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” he answered.
She giggled again, but then said, “Fiona certainly thinks Miss Burnett is a wonderful teacher, and I read the article in the newspaper that Abigail wrote about her. Miss Burnett seems to be very qualified.”
“Josiah had purchased ads in newspapers far and wide hoping to find someone suitable. It appears he has, but I don’t believe she’ll last any longer than the past few have.” Teddy bit the end of his tongue, not sure why he’d said that.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard that Don Carlson is at the school every day, dropping off and picking up his children.” It was the truth, he’d seen it himself, but pointed it out mainly because Don Carlson was on the list of Hannah’s potential husbands currently in his pocket. The list he still hadn’t returned. It wouldn’t hurt for her to know a few of the men on that list may not be a good choice for her. “Last year, Tess Creswell only lasted a few months as the teacher before Art married her. They just had a baby a few months ago.”
She nodded. “I’ve met Mrs. Creswell.”
“Don doesn’t have a wife and it appears he believes Miss Burnett is what he’s been looking for.”
“I wasn’t aware of that,” she said.
“Jules Carmichael has also been seen at the school,” he said, mentioning another name on her list. “Jules lives in a small cabin on Russ and Henrietta Gibson’s dairy farm, which might not be as appealing to Miss Burnett, coming from the city as she did. The same goes for Jess Radar. He’s shown interest in the new teacher, too, but he lives in Steve Putnam’s bunkhouse. A woman such as Miss Burnett might be more comfortable in their own home, don’t you think?”
Hannah’s smile wobbled slightly as she nodded. “I suspect you’re right.”
Guilt assaulted his stomach. What was he doing? He’d told Abigail more than once that making others look bad did not make her look better. Nor would it make him look better. Which shouldn’t matter because he didn’t want to look better to Hannah. He didn’t want to be one of her choices.
“Have all the eligible men in town shown an interest in Miss Burnett?” Hannah asked.
He shrugged.
“Or just the ones on my list?”
Teddy stumbled slightly.
* * *
Hannah had searched for her list. For a while, she’d feared the list had been amongst the
drawings she’d given Teddy last week, but since he’d never mentioned finding it, she’d assumed it must have accidently gotten burned. Until a moment ago, when out of nowhere a sinking feeling told her he had it, and knew exactly what it was. The remorse in his eyes said she was right.
They’d stopped walking, and not sure what else to do, she merely held her hand out. He dug into his hip pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She didn’t unfold it. Just slipped it into the pocket of the button-up jacket Fiona had insisted she wear.
“I planned on giving it back to you,” he said. “Would have before now, but never had the opportunity.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. Selecting a spot over one of his shoulders, she kept her head up, her gaze averted.
“I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said. “I should have given it back last week, but—”
“But what?” She still didn’t look at him. “You wanted to make sure you had something bad to say about each one of them first?”
“No, I—”
“You what?” She was more upset than she was angry, which was foolish. Making that list had been foolish.
“I just wondered why I wasn’t on your list.”
The baby moved so suddenly, it startled her as much as his statement had. She placed a hand on her stomach, and he gently touched her arm.
“Is something wrong? Is it the baby?”
She took a deep breath and shook her head. “The baby is fine, and so am I. We should get to the school now.” She still hadn’t looked at him, didn’t have the courage to do that, but noticing his sister amongst the crowd walking toward the school gave her the wherewith to put one foot in front of the other. Abigail’s flowered hat was impossible to miss. Even the sight of the back of it caused a sinking sensation inside Hannah.
“We can go back to the house if the walk is too much for you,” he said.
“The walk is not too much for me.” She drew another deep breath. But all the deep breaths in the world wouldn’t give her the fortitude to tell him his sister was the reason he wasn’t on her list. The past few nights had been full of sleepless hours, and for most of those hours she’d contemplated what she wanted. Brett and Fiona were wonderful and would let her live with them forever, but she didn’t want that. She wanted the baby to have a family. A mother and a father, and eventually siblings. Her thoughts always led her to think about Teddy, and ultimately Abigail. And how much his sister disliked her. The people who would say that didn’t matter had never experienced living with hatred. She had. And she knew the consequences.
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