“Good-bye,” Hannah said.
John turned to Bess. “Miss Brannon, I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation.”
“So did I,” Bess said, her gaze dropping shyly to the leaves.
“I’d be pleased to speak with you again when I come back.”
She nodded, and John mounted the mule, then waved good-bye.
Hannah stared after him for a long time. A dull ache began to build behind her eyes. What good was John’s forgiveness if Daniel wouldn’t come back? What good was his approval if no love remained to bless?
o0o
Malcolm erupted into fury when Mrs. Brannon explained he would be moved. “Am I a sack of potatoes, to be carted from one warehouse to the next? I, Madame, am a veteran of the Union army —an officer, I remind you, who was wounded during battle.”
The stout woman glared down at him, her chin doubling with the motion. “You, Mr. Hollas, are now a veteran of the Peshtigo Fire, whose wounds mean nothing more than any other person’s. Mr. Horatio Simonton, my own cousin, has authorized me to make decisions concerning the housing of the victims. Some must be moved to other hospitals being set up. Since you complain most vigorously about the crowding and accommodations here, it seemed fairest to move you first. Fairest for everyone involved.”
The iron set of Mrs. Brannon’s face convinced him the war would have been won sooner with more officers like her in charge. With as much dignity as he could muster, Malcolm Shelton submitted to his fate.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Once, Hannah would have found it far too painful to face daily reminders of the children she could never have. But as days passed without word from Daniel, she walled off the portion of her heart that still dreamed of a future with him. Instead, she found it easier to focus on those orphaned by the fire.
Now as she tended the children, she felt almost grateful for their need. When, within a week, she was strong enough to move into the orphanage, they kept her busy dawn ‘til dusk. And sometimes even longer. Nightmares skittered throughout the wooden structure in the darkness, leaping bed to bed. Only rarely did darkness pass undisturbed by screaming or a child’s tears.
Three year-old Charlie, so cheerful in the daytime, often crawled in bed with her at night. Hannah held his hand until both fell asleep.
She had never felt so needed in her life, so absolutely certain she was where she should be. She had no time to bemoan the unfairness of her circumstances; here fate had dealt everyone an awful hand.
Two other women helped with the twenty-odd children living there. At least once a week, Bess Brannon came and visited or spelled her for an afternoon.
“I’ve seen John Aldman,” she confessed near the beginning of December. “He’s been by twice. Once to ask about you, and another time to visit me. I like him, Hannah, very much.”
“He’s a kind and decent man,” Hannah said, but inside, her heart ached. If John could come, why hadn’t Daniel? Had she wounded his pride so badly he was never coming back?
But Bess hadn’t finished talking about John. “My mother says it would be foolish to fall for someone who’s just lost everything. Father scowls a lot and mumbles about farmers whenever I bring up his name. But I don’t think money’s so important.”
“John will be all right. He’s a man with plans, and a good head on his shoulders, too.” Hannah wondered why she couldn’t just ask about Daniel Aldman, instead of prattling on about his older brother.
“Mother would like me to marry someone as rich as her cousin, Mr. Simonton. He’s a very good man, I suppose, but you should see him. Twice my mother’s size,” Bess said.
“I have some other news,” she continued. “You know how cold the hall here is at night. It’s simply not a proper place for children during winter, and the social club is ready to get back their hall. The Presbyterians are putting up a bigger orphanage behind their church, staffed by their members. It’s been decided they’ll move the children there within the week.”
“That’s not far,” Hannah said. “And surely, they’ll need all the help they’re offered. I’d like to go there with the children.”
“I’ve already asked,” Bess said. “They have enough volunteers for now. But don’t worry about a place. We still need you here, Hannah. There’s someone who would like to talk to you about it this afternoon. Oh, and I almost forgot. I’ve brought you another dress for winter, and a cloak.”
“You can’t keep doing that, Bess.” Hannah put her hand on her friend’s arm.
“I not only can, I want to. Father’s done very well in lumber. He can afford to buy me more, and that blue dress is definitely your color. Why don’t you try it on?”
“Right now? But I was about to start the soup.”
Bess shook her head. “I’ll help the other ladies. Remember, you have somewhere to go, and you’ll want to look your best.”
“Where?”
Bess grinned. “I’m doing my best to look mysterious. Tell me, is it working?”
o0o
Malcolm Shelton rode through Peshtigo one last time, looking for some sign he could not guess. Already, he could make out streets amid the new construction, and everywhere around him, hammers banged, saws hissed, and the smell of freshly milled wood filled the air. Men worked together like a host of ants restoring a kicked nest. Where in all this industry would he find evidence his former wife had perished?
He buttoned the coat he had received from among the offerings sent to help disaster victims. Though the gray wool was rather worn, it served him well against the growing chill. Still, it galled him to accept so much charity. His care, these clothes —he’d complained bitterly about each new addition. When he was well enough, he wired instructions for his wife to send more money, but even so, he had to ration carefully to have enough for what he really needed.
As his rented horse clopped through the streets, no one he passed looked on his scarred face with curiosity or fear; each had already seen too many healing burns. A few expressions registered grim pity, but he scowled so fiercely in return their gazes turned away.
He could expect those sorts of reactions all his life, thanks to Hannah Lee Shelton. She had stripped him of his reputation, a huge chunk of his fortune, and now even half his face with one rash act. Was it too much to ask to see the powder of charred bones, to know for certain they were hers?
Her name had not appeared in the Eagle with those of the known dead, but many remained unidentified, as they would be for all time. If only there were someone who had known her and what happened, someone who could complete a deposition saying Hannah had been here.
He nearly raged aloud. Without a body or some evidence that she’d survived beyond Shelton Creek, his reputation would be no better than before. Worse, because of his long absence and return without a trace of his good looks.
Then Malcolm saw something that fed the starved flame of his hope. Daniel Aldman’s huge form, riding a black mule. Cautiously, he followed the man along the same route he’d just taken —back toward Marinette. He kept his distance and tried to formulate a plan.
He couldn’t hope Daniel Aldman would tell him anything out of the goodness of his heart. As Malcolm thought back to their last encounter, his scarred hand reached unconsciously for the gun he’d lost the night of the great fire. Aldman and his friends had only been too glad to watch Hannah’s last humiliation and to jeer him out of town. Or so they had supposed. He’d like to kill the man, if only for witnessing his shame.
If he still had the gun, using it might prove too great a temptation. Then he would never know for certain about Hannah. Another thought glittered almost out of reach. Suppose . . . suppose his former wife had survived? If Aldman lived, he might have helped her. The huge brute seemed to have some feelings for the woman.
Maybe following Daniel Aldman would be a good idea. Before he returned to Pennsylvania, tail tucked between his legs, shouldn’t he take every opportunity to find her?
He brushed away a few wet snowflakes that lande
d on his face.
After all, despite his wounds, he’d been more fortunate than some. Malcolm Shelton had some money. Aside from the passage home, he had enough left for necessities: food, lodging —and another gun.
o0o
Hannah drove Bess’s coupe carefully toward Robertson’s, the restaurant her friend had described. Judging from the number of rigs and saddle horses outside, there would be a crowd. Feeling foolish, she stopped the horses near a hitching post and decided the light flurries weren’t serious at all.
Her gaze settled on the steps leading inside the establishment, and she wondered who was meeting her. Was it some benefactor kind enough to offer her a job, as Bess had hinted? Or could it be —? Hannah closed her eyes a moment and tried to picture Daniel Aldman awaiting her in such a place, dressed in a fancy suit.
As if the man would really bother with such formalities on account of his brother’s cast-off bride! The idea made her anger simmer once again, until an odd thought struck her. What in heaven’s name was she doing, waiting for Daniel to come back with hat in hand? She may have decided that she wished he’d try again, but she’d done absolutely nothing to communicate her wants.
Hannah was so struck by her own foolishness that she sat for a long time in the carriage, wondering if she should drive right now to Peshtigo. After watching a few fat snowflakes settle, she picked up the reins to flick them across the horses’ backs. Then fear froze her.
What would Daniel think of her if she were to suddenly appear, without a single word of warning? Hadn’t he already told her his intentions by avoiding her so long? How could she risk him turning her away, not even knowing where she would go once the orphans had been moved?
Shivering with the cold, she shook her head. It was time to go inside, to see what contact Bess had made for her. It was time to plot some modest future. Whatever opportunity she was offered was no doubt more than she deserved. She should be grateful. After all, wasn’t a chance at freedom, a chance to support herself honorably, all that she had prayed for?
Hannah climbed out of the coupe and secured the horses. She felt foolish going in alone, an unescorted woman. Shaking her head to clear her doubts, she strode toward the door with confidence. If Bess Brannon had arranged things, there was nothing at all to fear.
Nothing but the dreams she’d set aside.
o0o
His breath caught in his throat, he was so excited to see her. After their last meeting, it seemed impossible that she would be somewhere as mundane as a restaurant —living, breathing, walking toward the door.
She looked in perfect health. Malcolm’s scarred mouth twisted itself into a frown. After all she’d wrought, it seemed unfair she hadn’t suffered as he had. Then again . . . he allowed his mind to wander to the punishments he planned. How much more delicious they would be on her unblemished flesh.
He needed to put distance between the two of them, lest his enthusiasm smother sensibility. He must have time to think.
Malcolm reined the horse sharply toward the telegraph office. In his mind, he composed a message to his dear, dull wife of a setback in his health and yet one more delay.
o0o
It took a few moments for Hannah’s eyes to adjust to the dimness of the restaurant. As she hesitated in the doorway, the delicious smells of roast lamb, herbed chicken, and fresh rolls vied for her attention. The moment she saw Daniel, though, her thoughts of eating fled.
He looked so uncomfortable, sitting at a table in his store-bought suit, that she nearly laughed aloud. But her mirth was snuffed out, the moment she saw his face. Everything he felt lay exposed in his expression: hope, embarrassment, and worry, all quickly overwhelmed by joy.
“Hannah!” He stood, and the relief in his voice was so palpable that the head of every diner turned as she walked toward him.
It was good to see him blush as well. She wished to comfort him, to unsay all she’d said in anger on that last time they’d met. But most of all, she needed to touch him, to reassure herself that he still cared.
She couldn’t reach out, though. Not yet. Not when fear had turned her feet to lead. It took enormous effort to force herself to cross the distance to his table. She stopped just out of range of his embrace. She would listen to what he said before she decided whether to close the gap between them.
“I took an awful risk, inviting you here,” Daniel said.
“A risk?”
He gestured toward the elegant place settings. “There’s a lot of fancy china in this place you could throw.”
She grimaced, remembering the teacup.
He stepped closer. Reaching toward her arm, he stopped himself, as if recalling where they were. “Please, sit down.”
“I would, but Bess led me to believe there’s a wealthy man waiting here to offer me a job,” Hannah told him flatly. She shouldn’t tease him, not when she didn’t even offer a smile to blunt her words.
He leaned closer. “There’s a lot of men around here wealthier than me. Maybe all of ‘em, right now.”
He pulled out a chair for her, and she settled into it. A well-trained waiter swooped in, and Daniel fumbled through the order for two glasses of wine.
After it arrived, he said, “I missed you. Hoped I wouldn’t, what with working on the house and tending to Amelia. But I still did, all the same.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?” she asked. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”
“It’s a hard thing for a man to have his proposal thrown back in his face. A hard thing to try again.”
“So you’re still calling that a proposal? And you’re still blaming me?” Hannah pushed her chair back from the table and began to stand. How could she have thought he’d changed so much?
“I’m trying, Hannah. Please let me.”
She hesitated, sat again, and reached for her glass of wine. Her hand quivered with —what? Was she so afraid to hope? Her clumsy fingers bumped the stem, spilling the red liquid on the pristine tablecloth.
She moaned, embarrassed beyond speaking.
“I’m almost glad you did that,” Daniel told her. “I was sure I’d do it first.”
She stood and started toward the door. Before she reached it, Daniel’s hand was on her arm.
“Would you take me for a drive?” she asked.
“I had a dinner planned,” Daniel answered. “They’ll change the cloth in just a moment.”
She turned toward him and tried to focus a plea into her question. “Could you really eat now?”
He shook his head, and she nodded, somehow gratified that this was no easier for him.
He paid the proprietor and followed her outside. Nodding toward the restaurant, he said, “They’ll talk about us, you should know.”
She swiped a snowflake from her cheek. “If you don’t wish to come, then I suppose you’ve bought that suit for nothing.”
“Can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be.”
Daniel helped her into Bess’s gig and untethered the team of two bay horses. As he climbed in the seat beside her, he said, “We’ll leave my uncle’s mule here. We can collect him after while.”
Without another word, he gently chucked the reins. Frisky with the cold, the horses lifted hooves high as they trotted along a road leading toward Marinette’s wooded outskirts.
Hannah had a dozen things to say to him, yet she couldn’t seem to find her voice. Daniel, too, appeared to suffer from the same affliction, for he said nothing until they were outside of town. On a desolate stretch of road, he slowed the horses to a walk.
“I had a lot of fine things saved up to tell you,” Daniel said. He favored her with a lopsided grin. “I even practiced them on John.”
Smiling felt awkward, but she managed it. “I’m sure he’s using them on Bess Brannon by now.”
“Wouldn’t a bit doubt it,” Daniel said. “He’s sweet on her, for certain.”
“I think she likes him, too. If he can get past Mrs. Brannon —”
“—If he can
get past that one, he’s a braver man than I. You should have seen that woman, accusing me of —” His smile faded. “—of well, what I almost did. I’m sorry for that, Hannah. It wasn’t proper, and I never should have touched you that way after you’d been so sick. It was just that . . .”
His brown eyes looked as fretful as a hound’s. Hannah took her warm hands from her pockets and put them around his cold ones on the reins.
“Just that what?”
He sighed. “It was just that I was so scared you’d die on me, like Mary. When I realized you’d live, I couldn’t hold back like a gentleman.”
“We’ve both had some trouble controlling ourselves, Daniel. That’s not why I was upset.” Hannah’s heart pounded as she moved nearer to the truth. “What truly hurt me was that you assumed a woman of my background would be grateful for any chance to marry, no matter what the circumstances.”
He drew the reins tight, and the horses stood, puffing plumes of steaming air. “I thought you came out here to marry. How was I supposed to guess you’d worry so much about what a few old biddies thought? You didn’t even know those ladies.”
“This isn’t about what they thought. It’s about how I felt, Daniel.”
He shook his head, clearly frustrated by the conversation. “The particulars didn’t seem to bother you when you came to Peshtigo to marry John.”
She turned away from him. Was he the brute she’d first imagined him to be? “How could you imagine that you know what bothered me? Did you dry my tears each night? Were you there in Pennsylvania to help me choose between whoredom and the next best thing?”
His big hand settled on her shoulder, gentle as a moth alighting.
She wanted to swat it like a fly. “Take me back to the restaurant. You can drive that borrowed mule right out of town and straight to Hell.”
“We’re not going anywhere until I have my say.” His voice was unyielding as stone.
“Haven’t you already said enough? I sometimes wonder if you even think about your words, about how they might hurt me.”
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