In the past, not only had she comforted him in the loss of his sister, but she’d kept him from getting up and killing Zachariah whom he’d blamed. And at this moment, she realized that Nate had been gone longer than seven years. He’d been gone since the day his sister had died. Now, he was back because someone in the asylum, by the grace of God, had helped him face the truth. She wanted to kiss that doctor.
She wiped a teardrop from his eye. Feeling the moisture on her skin, she realized his soul wouldn’t reabsorb this tear, because something about him was new. “I’m here, Nate,” she whispered. Her mouth touched his, and his lips closed upon hers, accepting her tender kiss.
Their lips parted, but their gazes didn’t. His fingertips trembled across her temple and swept into her hair. He looked away to watch his hand stroke the length along her shoulder. Then he looked back into her eyes as though he were truly seeing her for the first time. “Hattie,” he said with certainty.
And then he kissed her deeply.
20
When Nate woke up the next morning, he could still taste the sweetness of Hattie’s lips. He’d dreamt about her all night and then rose with the dawn, eager to finish the packing that needed to be done today so he could see her again. He started filling the wagon with his mother’s belongings while he whistled.
Even the boxes filled with Marcus’s business books had lost their sting.
Nate’s mother appeared at the top of the stairs carrying a dress box. “I’m glad to find you in such good spirits,” she said in a flat voice.
His whistling stopped at the sight of her.
The black dress on her slight frame made her look more like a shadow than a person.
He hoped her new home would bring her out of the gloom of Marcus’s death, but in the meantime, he’d try to brighten her mood with his charm. Nate ran up the stairs and took the box from her. “I shall scold you, Mother, if I see you carrying one more thing. Your duty is to drink tea and to tell me what you want moved.”
“‘In good spirits’ is far too inadequate a phrase to describe you today.” Her dullness sought to draw him under the same cloud.
“It’s a beautiful day. Why should I not be in good—”
“I saw her from the window.”
He froze, his euphoria punctured. So that was the reason behind her frown.
The two women he loved had always turned their gazes away from one another, one with pride, and the other with shame.
“She’s the reason you came back, isn’t she?”
Nate couldn’t deny it. “Yes, Mother, she is.” He tried to end the discussion by escaping toward the door. “I’ll put this box in the wagon where it won’t get crushed—”
“No.” She looked down at her colorless clothes as though she’d never wear anything else. Then she looked at the dress box Nate was carrying. “Give it to her.”
He stopped short. Had he heard correctly?
“I’ve never worn it and never shall.”
Had she resigned to forever remain nothing more than Marcus’s widow? Nate wouldn’t press her, not now. Instead, he opened the box.
“It would look lovely on…Hattie,” she said.
Did she know about the dress he’d bought Hattie long ago? Regardless, the gesture conveyed her utmost effort to accept that he loved Hattie and always would.
He succumbed to her peace offering. “Yes, Mother, it would look lovely on her.” He kissed her on the cheek.
~*~
Hattie danced while she baked her pies, sang as she drove her wagon to Kate’s Eatery, and hummed as Clayton and Zachariah came over to help. But while Clayton brought in some pies, Zachariah lagged behind.
“I see you’re in good spirits today,” Zachariah said.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” she said. “The sky is blue, and the sun’s a-shining.”
“The sun’s not all that’s shining.”
Did Zachariah suspect…? Well, let him.
She’d never been this happy with the Reverend, and as much as she loved Zachariah as a brother, her relationship with Nate was none of his business. She handed him a couple pies and picked up two more. Carrying them into Kate’s, she said over her shoulder at him, “Can’t a person be in a good mood without raising questions?”
Anticipating Nate would show up that afternoon, Hattie returned home and cleaned her house, and then cleaned herself up. She put on her best dress, an old-fashioned floral calico.
When he knocked, she rushed to the door but restrained herself from throwing it open. A woman shouldn’t look too eager. But the sight of him dressed in a light gray suit that showed off his blue eyes and yellow hair made her heart race. When he handed her a box tied with a fancy ribbon, she scowled and smiled at him at the same time. “I should have known.”
“I can’t take the credit,” he said. “This isn’t from me.”
Then who could it possibly be from?
He must have read the question on her face. “It’s from Mother.”
Hattie was sure the question on her face deepened. “She knows about us?”
“She always has, Hattie.”
Yes, she always had. Back when Hattie worked in the saloon, Nate’s mother would sully the hem of her dress crossing a mucky street before coming within twenty feet of Hattie.
“Well,” he said, “are you going to open the box?”
Given the tension between her mother and her, Hattie preferred to keep the cover on and hand it back. Had Nate’s mother given her one of those sullied dresses as a reminder of what she thought of her?
“Open it, Hattie.”
Nate didn’t seem worried, and the box looked pretty tied with that ribbon. She set the box on the table, and carefully unfurled the bow. She would save it if what was inside didn’t send her crying to her bed. She slowly lifted the cover. Whatever lay inside was a statement Nate’s mother had for her. Was it one of acceptance or insult?
Speechlessness overcame her as she unfolded a red dress embroidered with blue flowers. She rushed to the mirror and held the dress to herself. The colors made her hair shine, her skin glow, and her voice hard to find. “It’s…beautiful, Nate. But why?”
In the mirror, she watched a fair-skinned gentleman walk up from behind her darker image until she felt the heat of his breath. “Because she knows I’ll never be happy without you,” he whispered.
Warmth rushed across her cheeks. Was she blushing?
“Now put it on,” Nate said.
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
He waited in the kitchen as she threw off the old calico rag and donned the new dress.
White lace lined the neck and her wrists, making every movement of her hands graceful. She waltzed into the dining room and twirled in front of him with the excitement of a princess going to a ball. “How do you like it?”
“No dress will ever be lovely enough to do you justice,” he said softly. He opened the door. “But it will do for dinner at Kate’s.” Outside, a fine buggy drawn by a handsome Morgan waited for her.
As she and Nate rode into town, heads turned and Hattie held back tears of happiness. She was once considered the town’s disgrace, but Nate had transformed her into the town belle. Like the finest of gentlemen, he extended his elbow to her and escorted her into Kate’s. On his arm, Hattie walked with her chin higher, living a moment she’d always dreamed of. Being by Nate’s side.
The eatery was busy, but Kate did a double take. Her eyes grew even wider when they landed on whom Hattie was with. Then she winked an I-see-a-wedding-coming to Hattie.
Nate pulled out a chair and seated her as though she were a queen.
Kate waited on them.
“Give the lady anything she wants. If she can’t decide, give her everything.”
“What would the lady like?” Kate asked as she smiled.
The “lady” chose steak with corn and mashed potatoes.
Never before had she freely walked the streets outside the saloon with one of the town’s most prestigio
us citizens. Never before had she worn a dress so elegant and ladylike.
Women whispered, “Is that Hattie Brown? She looks beautiful.”
Men came over and greeted Nate.
It was all dreamlike—the beautiful dress, being called a lady…but most dreamlike of all was the way Nate gazed at her from across the table. Tenderness filled his blue eyes, and serenity softened his ever-so-serious face as he smiled at her.
Hattie’s heart fluttered with the certainty that this was how she wanted to spend every day for the rest of her life.
~*~
Nate couldn’t take his eyes off Hattie. Since the day he’d first seen a little girl wearing a burlap dress, this was how he’d longed to see her. Happy. He touched her hand on the table, and the smile on her beautiful face broadened.
She blushed. “Everyone’s watching us, Nate.”
“You, Hattie. Everyone’s watching you because they’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.” The blush in her olive skin deepened, and she looked down in a way he found delightfully girlish. As they ate, his steak had no flavor, and even a tempting slice of apple pie failed to steal his attention away from the feast his eyes were savoring.
Whatever had summoned Hattie to his house the day before, whatever had compelled her to kiss him so tenderly was a mystery. For the moment, he was content to think of it as magical—as fairytale-like as her transformation into the exotic princess.
She looked at her piece of pie. “You keep feeding me like this, and I won’t fit into this new dress anymore.”
“Then I’ll buy you another dress,” he said, remembering how thin she’d been as a child. “You’ve wanted long enough. There will be plenty for you now.”
Her long-lashed eyes glistened with delight as she brought a forkful of apple and golden crust toward her maroon lips. With a slow blink of those arresting eyes, she looked back up. But instead of landing on him, her gaze landed on something behind him.
Something that caused the fork to slip from her hand.
~*~
“Hattie,” Nate said. “What’s the matter?”
She’d never seen him before, but she knew. It’s him. It has to be.
An older gentleman walked through the door and found a place to sit. He looked around and then suddenly, his gaze latched onto hers.
She stood. “I have to leave.”
Nate turned to the man. “Who is he? What does he want with you?”
Without answering, she left the table while Nate lagged behind to pay.
The stranger pushed back his chair and started to rise as she dashed past him and out the door. Her footsteps quickened along the walk as long-ago memories rushed through her mind. How dare you leave me and my ma to fend for ourselves. How dare you try to come into my life now. She had to get away from him. She broke into a run and only stopped when someone grabbed her arm from behind.
“Come on.” Nate rushed her to the buggy and helped her inside. He turned the horse around and brought it to a full trot while the man, now standing on the walk, watched them ride down the road.
~*~
“I’ve never seen you act like that around any man,” Nate said. “Who is he? What did he do to you?”
She looked aside, not wanting to yield over the words. “He’s my pa.”
Nate’s jaw dropped. “That Southern gentleman is your father?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Nate. I don’t want to talk about anything at the moment.” She was too angry. Make him go away, Lord. I don’t want to meet him.
She and Nate rode along quietly. Memories stirred of that day when she was old enough to fend for herself, and her homesick mother returned to Georgia. Hattie hadn’t heard from her since, and the ache of her mother leaving still lingered. Where was she? Why hadn’t she written?
Nate stopped the buggy on a hill overlooking the former Powell ranch. He looked down at the house with a fondness she’d never seen in him before. Since he’d come back, he’d taken a paint brush to the front doors, fixed the stairs, and mended the front gate, as if something in him wouldn’t leave it looking like the wreck it had become in his absence.
Hattie stood beside him and stared out. “You’ve worked magic on the place, Nate.” Any subject to get her mind off her pa would suit her fine. But she snorted at what she’d just said. Magic? “I was a fool to believe I could be anything more than what I really am.” She looked down at the dress. “Everything fancy about me an hour ago turned back into rags the moment I saw him, because underneath this fine dress, I’m nothing but a child my pa didn’t want and my ma was ashamed of.”
“Hattie, don’t—”
“Stop pretending, Nate.” With glistening eyes, she lifted a handful of the elegant embroidered skirt. “This is just an illusion. You can’t restore what’s never been. Though you’ve always tried, because you’re a man in love, and love makes a man see things that aren’t there.”
“You’re wrong. I love you because of what is there. Not only are you beautiful beyond words, but you have every reason to be proud of what you’ve become, because you’ve done it on your own—without the help of your father.”
“No, Nate. I’ve become what I am because of my other Father. In heaven.”
“Then all the more reason to meet the earthly pa, Hattie. You may never have another chance to forgive him.”
“After all the taunting I got as a child because he deserted me? How can I face him after all the grief he’s caused me?”
“I don’t know how. I just know that you have to, because you’re a church-going woman now.”
Nate? Preaching to her? “What do you know about forgiveness?”
“I don’t know much about faith, but I know about the Bible, because we had to read it in school. And I know more than you’d think about you, Hattie. I know that in one form or another, you’ve always lived by your principles even when it’s hurt you to do so. And you’ll do it again, because that’s always been the best part of you.” He placed steady hands on her shoulders. “You’ve always been the best part of me, Hattie, and if you look deep inside yourself, you’ll discover why that is.”
After Nate brought her home that evening, after he’d kissed her a long and sweet good-bye, Hattie took off the dress and put on one of her own. The lovely garment lay on her bed, and she saw in the mirror all that was left of her.
A no-good, once-a-saloon-girl, hard-as-nails Hattie Brown. Her eyes glistened. If folks only knew how frail she really was.
Something Nate said returned to her. “You’ve always lived by your principles.”
She snorted a laugh. “Yes, but forgiveness was never one of them.” She’d never had to forgive anyone before.
Her feelings toward Nate initially had been a righteous anger, because she’d thought he’d cheated with another woman. And she’d never hated her mother, she’d pitied her. Even with everything Boss had done to her, Hattie held no malice toward him, because in a way she understood him. With Boss, it was strictly business. But this Jonathan Garrison Parker, she couldn’t even bring herself to meet him.
She sat on her bed. “Why couldn’t he have died like Ma said he had, Lord? Even though it left a big hole in my heart, I was better off when I thought he was gone, because when I learned he was alive, I felt like I was the big hole—something he just cut out from his life like you carve out the rot on a potato. Maybe that’s why I became a saloon girl. Maybe that’s all I really am, Lord. Rot.” She glanced at her image again. “This morning, I felt like royalty, and now I’m…” She turned her back to the mirror as the warmth of a tear trickled down her face. “How can I forgive him when he treated me like that, Jesus? I hurt so deep.”
It felt as if Jesus wrapped His arms around her, comforting her until she was spent. Then it seemed His arms turned her back to the mirror.
This time she saw a woman wearing a calico dress with a hem down to her ankles, a loose fit around her hips, and a high neckline of white eyelet.
“You’ve always be
en the best part of me, Hattie,” Nate had said, “and if you look deep inside yourself, you’ll discover why that is.”
She stepped closer to the mirror and looked deeply into the eyes of her image to see what he was talking about. What was the best part of her? Deep within the soul of the woman looking back, Hattie saw a Christian woman.
A forgiven woman.
“Jesus, You’re the best part of me.”
21
“Where do you want this, Mother?”
“Put it by the window.”
Mother’s new house, papered with yellow flowers, had lots of charm. However, it had its drawbacks, which Nate had foreseen and Clayton was all too aware of as their gazes met from either end of Marcus’s old desk.
“It won’t fit there,” Nate said.
She threw up her hands. “Then put it anywhere.”
Nate shook his head behind her back, and Clayton shrugged. By the time everything was inside, there was barely a trail wide enough to walk through. Nate turned to his mother. “You can’t live like this.”
She was unwilling to let go of one piece of furniture that had belonged to Marcus, and she began to weep. “My life is so empty without him.”
Nate took her in his arms and glared ahead. Were it not for Zachariah, Nate could have stayed and taken care of his mother. In fact, were it not for Zachariah, Mother would still have the ranch because Nate would have taken care of matters before they’d come to this. If hate could sear, he’d burn a hole through that wall and…no, he couldn’t lose control. Not now, not ever. He’d be leaving Zachariah behind in due time. Just a day or two longer in Ramsden, and Hattie would be by his side on a train headed toward a wedding back East. He would ask her properly, of course, but he’d already seen “yes” in the way she’d kissed him.
He’d asked Mother to reconsider moving back East with Hattie and him.
“No,” she whimpered. “I won’t move away from Marcus’s grave. I won’t leave him. I don’t know why you can’t stay here.” Her eyes were wide, unaware in her pallid face why Nate couldn’t stay.
Marcus had never told his own wife where he’d sent her only living child. Or why. Marcus had never told her about the asylum.
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