Touched by Fire

by Gwyneth Atlee

  If that were true, had Daniel stopped himself? The thought of the powerfully built man ravishing her helpless body made her feel violated, angry. Could he have done such an awful thing?

  Tears blurred her vision as her eyes focused on the empty chair. Had he just taken her and left? Had that been all he’d wanted all along?

  No, she told herself. He hadn’t made love to her before, even though she had been willing. He must have just stepped out to find some food or attend some personal need. He’d be back. He’d have to.

  He’d be back for her.

  o0o

  Hours later, tears rolled down her face. Hannah’s hands shook as she brushed aside their moisture. Daniel hadn’t come, and the more she thought about it, the surer she was that he wouldn’t. He had never said he loved her. He had never promised marriage.

  And why would he? He didn’t even have to, after all. She’d helped him disrobe her. She’d done everything but hire a brass band to communicate her desire to bed him.

  “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” Her father told her that once as a warning about youthful ardor. Did all men live by that crude maxim?

  The woman’s nothing but a slut.

  Had she become what Malcolm called her? Was there any difference between her and Rosalind’s ilk?

  She shook her head, recalling how Daniel saved her from deep water at the river, how they’d passed that fiery night together side by side. Maybe the disaster had only magnified a passing fancy, focused into hot passion what was never meant to be.

  Had both of them been merely caught up in the struggle to survive? Had Daniel truly thought he loved her, in the wake of losing farm and home and aunt?

  Fury boiled in her veins. This hadn’t been some innocent mistake! Otherwise, he’d be here to apologize and make some excuse in the hope of letting her down easy. If he hadn’t taken advantage of her illness, then why would he have fled?

  Hope flared at a tapping on the door. Clutching blankets to her chest, Hannah called, “Come in.” Her recriminations would have faded; she would have laughed at all her silly fears.

  If only it were Daniel at the door.

  o0o

  Bess Brannon turned the knob and pushed, a tray of food balanced on one narrow hip. Her mother, righteously indignant, had sent her here to puzzle out the Aldman mystery. Had the huge, handsome man used this woman’s illness to some immoral advantage, or had he been only doing what he claimed?

  The dark-haired woman’s tear-streaked face and the pile of her torn clothes beside the bed seemed to answer all.

  “Oh, merciful Lord!” cried Bess. She hurried inside and kicked shut the door behind her. “Did he —? He seemed like such a nice man.”

  The brunette straightened her spine and used a corner of the sheet to dry her face. “He took care of me.” Her voice quavered, and Bess guessed it was herself the woman most wished to convince.

  Bess gnawed her lower lip. At only twenty, she hadn’t dealt with anything like this before. How did one handle such an unspeakable event without further damaging the woman’s reputation?

  The blonde put down her tray and stared at the discarded dress. “I’ll bring you some of my clothes. I think we’re close enough in size. No one has to know. And don’t worry, my mother threw him out of this hotel the moment he came down the stairs. She’ll have the law on him if he comes back.”

  Despite her tears, the woman had a lovely face, with large blue eyes and delicately chiseled features. “Your mother?” she asked, holding the blanket even tighter.

  “Of, course. When Mr. Aldman told me last night that the two of you weren’t yet married, I thought he was sweet to risk his life to stay with you. Doctor Heinrich feared you’d be contagious. But Mother says I’m too naïve. She said he just took that basin and went along with her when she assumed you were his wife.” Bess shifted her feet, and guilt welled up inside her. “I hope you’ll forgive me. Last night, I should have realized that his staying wasn’t proper. But there are so many people hurt and dying all around. I didn’t even think what he’d be up to.”

  The dark-haired beauty patted the bed for her to sit. When Bess obliged, she squeezed her hand. “I’m Hannah Shelton. I want to thank you for offering the clothing. The fire took everything I had. Don’t feel bad about Daniel. I was only upset because I didn’t know why he had left.”

  “But what about —?” Bess began. Her gaze dropped to the floor.

  “Between a dousing in the river and that downpour the other day, the only thing holding that dress together was the mud. When I took it off, it came to pieces. Daniel left so I could wash. That’s all. This was innocent, I promise.” She forced a weary smile, and Bess heard her stomach growl.

  “Oh. I almost forgot. I’ve brought some stew and milk. My name is Bess Brannon. Let me help you eat.”

  o0o

  As she ate, Hannah concentrated on the wholesome flavors of stewed tomatoes, beef, and vegetables and the scent of the warm steam beneath her nose. She thought about the fresh-baked bread with gobs of pale butter smeared across it. She tried to concentrate on these and Bess’s presence, so she wouldn’t think of Daniel Aldman anymore. So she wouldn’t remember Bess saying “. . . Mr. Aldman told me last night the two of you weren’t yet married.” Yet.

  Still, she found her own words the hardest to forget. This was innocent, I promise.

  She wished with all her heart she could believe it.

  o0o

  After leaving Hannah, Bess went to face that duty she most despised, bandaging the wounds of the burned victims. One of the women, a widow of in her mid-thirties, handed her a tray and fresh strips made from clean, torn sheets.

  “Here’s a pair of scissors too,” Mrs. Tanner added. “Better keep ‘em handy when you do that eastern gentleman.”

  Bess smiled. Captain Hollas, he had said his name was. His face and hands oozed with painful burns, but instead of enduring them with the stoicism of a former officer, the man did nothing but complain.

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Tanner,” Bess said as she took the tray. “I’ll keep them leveled at all times near his tongue. He wouldn’t want to lose that.”

  A grin showed off Gen Tanner’s smile. “If you decide you need to take it, just be sure to call your ma and me, so we can hold him down.”

  o0o

  “I know you’re busy, Reverend, and I appreciate you doing this. It will just take a few minutes,” Daniel said over his shoulder. He wiped his feet to keep from tracking morning dew into the fancy lobby.

  No one challenged the two men as they went to Hannah’s room. Either Mrs. Brannon hadn’t seen him, or she recognized the man of God as an honorable way to rectify the “problem.”

  When he tapped, he was relieved to hear Hannah’s voice invite him in.

  He stepped inside, the minister behind him.

  “Daniel?” Hannah said. She sat before the mirror with her hair down. She still held the brush she’d been using. “We need to talk, in private.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard by now how I was asked to leave,” Daniel said. “I’ve brought the reverend here to set things right.”

  For a woman who had been sick, the color rose to her face in an instant. She stood, wearing a green dress Daniel hadn’t seen before. “T—to set things right? That’s all you think of me? Get out, Daniel Aldman. Get out and don’t come back! I’m strong enough to help take care of some of the injured now, so I won’t need your ‘tender care.’ Now go!”

  Daniel spared the minister a sheepish glance. “I suppose that means we won’t be needing you. Thanks anyway.”

  The minister nodded and, with a grateful sigh, excused himself. Daniel didn’t budge. Instead, he pushed the door closed.

  “Now tell me,” he asked, “what was that about?”

  “It was about what happened yesterday, and I told you to get out.”

  “What happened yesterday? You fell asleep. That’s what happened. Not the most flattering thing, I suppose, but
sick as you were, I understood.”

  Hannah’s blue eyes narrowed. “I fell asleep . . . and you . . .?”

  “Went downstairs to try to find you some new clothes. What did you think I —” The truth dawned and he took a few steps nearer. “You didn’t think I’d take advantage of you in that condition?”

  Hannah’s blush deepened until he saw rose splotches on her chest. “I awoke unclothed, and you were gone. I —I didn’t know what to believe.”

  “Next time, I believe I’ll remember to button my shirt straight around Mrs. Brannon.” He chuckled at the thought.

  “This isn’t funny, Daniel. Do you know what they think of me?”

  “Do you care?” he asked.

  “You don’t understand at all what it’s like to be a woman. Our reputations mean so much.”

  “If I didn’t understand how you felt, why do you think I’d bring a minister along?”

  “That’s why? That’s the only reason?”

  Daniel squared his shoulders, as if he were facing down a drunken brawler. “Of course it’s not the only reason. I want to marry you. I think that’s always what I’ve wanted since we met. But now, it seemed the right thing to hurry it along. I’m not all that much for formalities, but —”

  “—Don’t you see? By bringing in the minister, you confirmed what those women suspected.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t marry you.” He felt his temper rising, blasting past his better judgment. “For a woman with a somewhat tattered reputation, you seem to cherish it an awful lot. Tell me, does what a few old hens think mean more to you than love?”

  “What love, Daniel? What love?” She leaned forward, such longing in her eyes that it took his breath away.

  Daniel wanted to take her in his arms, to tell her what she wished to hear, to tell her, then to wed her on this very day. He couldn’t stand a long engagement. He wanted right now to make Hannah his. He reached for her small waist, and she took a step backward.

  “No,” she told him, her chin held high as ever. “There must be words this time, Daniel. And ‘here’s the minister’ won’t do.”

  That blasted pride of hers again. Here he was, trying to do right, and she was back to playing debutante.

  “I love you, Hannah,” he growled. Anything to get this over with.

  She whirled around, grabbed a teacup off the table, and hurled it in his direction. It shattered against the door, splattering him with cool, brown dregs.

  “Either mean it, or don’t say it,” she demanded.

  Well, a man had his pride, too, and he’d be damned if he’d stay here and swallow his ‘til he could find a way to suit her. Turning on his heel, he spoke over his shoulder.

  “A man’s words don’t have to come in pretty packages to be God’s honest truth.”

  He slammed the door on his way out, in case she chose to throw the saucer, too.

  o0o

  “Would you like to help change bandages?” Bess asked her the next day. “I can always use another pair of hands. Mother’s cousin said you could stay here awhile, if we need your help. I talked him into it. I’m afraid mother still suspects you’re a bad influence.”

  “I’ll try to live up to your faith,” Hannah said. “Thank you for the dresses. They fit beautifully.”

  Bess cast a critical eye on her, then smiled. “I think you might fill out the top part better than I did, but I won’t hold that against you if you’ll help with the captain.”

  “The captain?”

  “He’s a treat. Complains constantly about how rough we are, the food, the bed. He acts like visiting royalty instead of a burn victim here on charity.”

  Hannah smiled. “He sounds like someone I once knew. Don’t worry. I can handle that type.”

  Bess led Hannah toward the room where several burned men had been crowded. She felt sorry for the others, having to listen to that Hollas fellow.

  “I saw your friend come back,” Bess said lightly. “With the minister in tow.”

  “He had the nerve to think I’d marry him because he fancied the idea.”

  Bess turned. “And you said no?”

  “Of course. He never even asked.”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “It’s hard to say. I insulted him. I even threw a cup.”

  “He’s a very handsome man,” Bess said.

  “There’s more to it than that.”

  “Of course. You have to find out if you love him. Do you?”

  Hannah sighed, considering. “I’m glad the teacup missed him.”

  Bess smiled. “That’s sounds like love to me.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” The two women laughed, and Hannah wondered how she could have missed that simple truth. The maelstrom of emotions Daniel stirred in her all boiled down to love. Funny she should realize it only after she’d rejected his strange declaration.

  A loud crash from the dining room distracted their attention. Several children, some recovering and others with sick parents, had knocked down a stack of plates.

  “You little beasts!” Mrs. Brannon shouted.

  “Oh, dear,” Bess said as she turned toward the disaster. “Perhaps the captain can wait a while more.”

  o0o

  A pair of exasperated older women put Hannah and Bess in charge of the children while they cleaned up the broken plates.

  “Take them outside for a while, and we’ll be glad to do the bandages today,” one offered.

  Happy to get outdoors, Hannah agreed. One of the beleaguered ladies eagerly offered her a shawl against the autumn chill.

  “Now this is how an October day should look,” Bess declared. Sunshine sparkled through half-bare branches and on thick piles of fallen leaves.

  Three boys and two girls followed as they strolled toward the courthouse lawn. Hannah carried the youngest, a three year-old boy. She held him carefully so she wouldn’t press against his bandaged arm. Despite that, he squirmed until he could get down and run.

  “I’d never guess he was hurt,” Hannah said.

  “And lost his family, too. Some loggers found him wandering and brought him into town. He says he’s Charlie, but we can’t get a last name out of him, so we’re not certain whose he is. Or was.”

  Hannah looked after the laughing boy, his sandy hair flapping as he ran. The child leapt into a pile of leaves where the older children played. “What will happen to him?”

  “An orphan’s home is being set up in the social hall just outside of town. It’s possible some of the children were only separated. Maybe their parents will come back.”

  Hannah thought about the firestorm blasting through the streets of Peshtigo and shuddered. It seemed unlikely many had survived. “That fire was a glimpse into Hell, Bess. Hell. Can they even guess how many died?”

  “Hundreds, I’ve heard. Maybe even more. We were frightened here, too. For a while it looked like all of Marinette would burn. Mother and I waited on a boat until it was over, while Father stayed to help.”

  Standing near a huge oak, Hannah surveyed the other children, who ranged from Amelia’s age to about eleven. “Are they orphans, too?”

  Bess gestured toward a spindly girl with coal black hair. “That one, for certain. Sadie Colton, and the boy with the burnt ears. The others have at least one parent sick or hurt.”

  “Who will care for them?”

  Bess shrugged. “Some of the ladies from the church are organizing volunteers. But with so many injured and homeless, we need a lot of help.”

  Hannah’s eyes came to rest on the smallest boy once more. He was squealing with laughter as one of the girls showered him with leaves.

  “I’d like to work in the orphanage, I think. They’re going to need a lot of gentling.”

  Bess smiled at her. “You’d be good at that. Say, is that someone you know?”

  John Aldman waved at her from aboard a mule. He swung down from the animal and led it closer.

  “I’m glad to see you looking well, Miss Shelt
on.”

  Hannah nodded and smiled. “I think we’ve been through enough that you can call me Hannah. You’re looking better too. May I introduce my friend, Bess Brannon?”

  John removed his borrowed hat.

  “Bess, this is Daniel Aldman’s brother, John.”

  “I think I saw you,” Bess said, “when you brought Hannah to the hotel.”

  “I do remember you,” John said.

  Charlie fell and started wailing.

  “I’ll be right back,” Hannah said. She went to the boy, picked him up, and dried his tears. When she looked up, John and Bess appeared to be chatting like old friends.

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She almost hated to interrupt to see what he had wanted. A furious leaf battle with the children delayed her a few minutes more. By the time she returned to the conversation, she was breathing hard, exhausted from the play.

  “You are feeling better,” John said.

  “Not enough for this. They’ve worn me out,” she said.

  Bess picked several leaves out of her hair.

  “I never got the chance to thank you for what you did.” John looked at Bess. “Hannah saved my life.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Hannah said. She felt heat creeping up her neck and silently cursed her blushing.

  “I would,” John said. “Thank you, Hannah, and I’m so sorry —”

  “—Not half as sorry as I am,” Hannah said before he could say more. There was no need for Bess to learn all that had transpired.

  “I’m sure Daniel told you we’re staying with Uncle Phineas.” When she nodded, he continued. “We’re going to have to leave Amelia with him for a while and work on rebuilding. We’ll try to get a small house ready before the snows get heavy. What I’m trying to say is we’ll be gone for several weeks. Do you have a place to stay now?”

  Bess answered for her. “I’ll see to that. We need all the hands we can get, and Hannah’s volunteered to help with the children.”

  “She’ll do well. Hannah . . . Daniel talked to me about the two of you. I want you to know that I approve completely.”

  Hannah folded her arms. “I might, too, if your brother ever thought to ask.”

  John laughed. “I can see he has his work cut out for him, if he can get past that pride of his. I’d better be going. I need to make arrangements for some lumber.”