Lorna Seilstad

by When Love Calls

  He found Charlotte and Maureen first. Thankfully, the women had had the sense to cover their mouths and keep to the ground. “Stay down. We’ll crawl out. I’ll lead you.” Passing through the hall, he felt the heat from the fire destroying the front of his house. “Hurry.”

  At last they reached the back door. He helped Charlotte and Maureen out. Where was Tessa?

  His lungs burned, but he had no choice. After taking a deep breath, he plunged back inside and found Tessa lying yards from the door. Lifting her into his arms, he bolted for the door.

  Lord, save her. Hannah can’t lose anyone else.

  Tessa began to cough as soon as they rounded the corner of the house. Hannah ran to meet them. As soon as he deposited Tessa on the ground, Hannah helped her hacking sister sit up. Still sounding nearly hysterical, she said, “This is all my fault. This is all my fault.”

  Dropping his hands to his knees, Lincoln drank in great gulps of air. Smoke clogged his throat, and he fought to clear it. He couldn’t let Hannah go on like this. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and a coughing spasm seized him. It seemed like eternity before it passed. “This is not your fault.”

  She looked up at him. Even in the moonlight, he saw the anguish in her eyes. “It is. I knew Albert was the arsonist.”

  “You knew? How could you know?”

  “I overheard someone on the phone. They were worried it was him.”

  Anger and confusion surged through him like the fire consuming his home. She knew? And she’d kept quiet about it? Why would she do that?

  Because that’s what Hannah did. She liked to be in control, and because of that, her sisters had almost died.

  “Who?” he demanded, broiling inside. “Who did you overhear?”

  “Please don’t make me tell you.” Her voice cracked.

  “Who did you overhear?” His voice grew louder, and he shook off Aunt Sam’s restraining hand. “Tell me, Hannah!”

  “Pete and Elise,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I should have trusted you. It’s just—”

  “You thought you could handle it all on your own—again.” He jabbed his finger toward the firemen fighting the flames. Betrayal, raw and cutting, sliced through his heart. “And now look what you’ve done.”

  46

  Heart splintering, Hannah removed her smoky purple gown and sank onto her bed. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she made no effort to wipe them away. She squeezed her eyes closed, hoping to block out the image of the fire. Instead, the expression of betrayal on Lincoln’s face was branded on her memory.

  In the far bed, Tessa still coughed, but the doctor said she’d be fine. Even in his anger, Lincoln had seen that the three of them were taken home and had sent a doctor to check on them. She’d waved off the physician’s ministrations but was quite relieved to hear her sisters wouldn’t suffer any long-term effects from her mistakes.

  But she would.

  Even if Lincoln could somehow forgive her, she’d never be able to forgive herself. She recalled the flames devouring Lincoln’s home. The firemen had put the fire out before she’d left, but the porch was gone and the front of the house was badly damaged. Could it be repaired?

  Probably much more easily than her relationship with Lincoln.

  Fresh sobs wracked her body. Finally, her energy spent, she let exhaustion claim her. Tomorrow she’d face the day like she always had—alone.

  The room at the Kirkwood Hotel had a most inviting bed, but Lincoln couldn’t imagine going to sleep right now. He sat down on the bed and removed his shoes. He tossed them across the room, harder than necessary. First one and then the other clunked against the wall. His home was near ruins. He’d been targeted by his mentor’s son, whom the detectives would soon arrest, and the woman he loved had withheld the knowledge that could have prevented the whole fiasco.

  Why?

  He yanked at his bow tie and let it fall to the floor. His lungs hurt, but not half as much as his heart. That same independent spirit he loved in Hannah now made him cringe. It made her believe she had to take on the world and prove herself. She thought she had to conquer any obstacle and take any risk that came her way. Well, he’d tried to convince her otherwise, and he was tired of his words not going any deeper than the blister on his hand. Loving her cost him too much, and he wasn’t referring to his home.

  Falling back onto the pillows, he sighed. Always, Hannah clung to a little piece of herself—a stubborn, “I can handle it” attitude marked by an inability to trust him.

  He punched the pillow beneath his head into submission. If he couldn’t have her whole heart, he didn’t want any of it.

  Every muscle on Hannah’s five-foot-six-inch frame still ached from being thrown by the explosion, but her greatest ache ran much deeper. She took her place at the courthouse switchboard and adjusted her headset without a word.

  Jo eyed her critically. “All right. Out with it. What happened?”

  “Even if it involves something I overheard on the telephone lines?”

  “Yes, even then.” Jo settled back, apparently ready to listen.

  Hannah briefly gave her fellow operator and friend a description of the weekend, including her own role in not telling anyone what she’d overheard on the telephone lines.

  “It was the rule, and I couldn’t break it.” Hannah knew Jo, of all people, would understand.

  “Interesting.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I find it surprising that a woman who breaks the rules whenever she sees fit chose to obey this one.”

  “But—”

  Jo broke her off to connect a call. When she’d completed it, she turned back to Hannah. “Answer this. Did you pray even once about whether you should tell me or Lincoln or anyone else about this call?”

  “No, there was nothing for sure. I thought I could find out if it was true or not.”

  “You thought you could find out the truth?” Jo gave her a weak smile. “Hannah, I think you’ve got a bad case of self-reliance and not God-reliance.”

  “But what’s wrong with that? Ruth was self-reliant. She insisted on going with Naomi. She gleaned in the fields. She went to the threshing floor.”

  “And she listened to the council of Naomi and to Boaz, and she made Naomi’s God her God.” Jo patted Hannah’s arm. “Your world got turned upside down when you lost your parents, and you were doing everything you could to get it back in control. But I think if you look inside yourself, you might see that Lincoln wasn’t the only one you stopped trusting.”

  Hannah moved too quickly and winced. She bit her lip. “You think I stopped trusting God?”

  Jo pointed to Hannah’s switchboard. “I think you’ve been holding the plug in your hands but not completing the call. You’re scared.”

  Was Jo right? Why hadn’t she prayed about whether to tell Lincoln, and why hadn’t she broken the rules? It didn’t make sense. Could she be scared? Had she been afraid to take the biggest risk of all—giving her heart away?

  She rubbed her aching temples. She’d asked God to help her learn to love Lincoln completely, but if this was the answer to her prayers, why had it come too late?

  47

  Poking at the rubble of what had been his front porch, Lincoln heaved a sigh. It had been a week since the fire marshal had done a thorough search, but Lincoln needed to examine the area for himself. He needed closure, and the ashes seemed an appropriate place to do so since his life had gone up in smoke.

  To his surprise, most of the house was salvageable. There’d be new siding to put on, a new porch to build, and some other damages to fix, but he’d already contacted workmen. They were set to begin next week.

  His aunt stood in the yard. “For a busy attorney, this is a strange place to find you.”

  “I’m not in the mood, Aunt Sam.”

  She marched over, her hands propped on her hips. “Well, it’s time someone told you to stop moping about.”

  “I’ve been betrayed by m
y best friend and the woman I love. I think I have a right to mope.”

  “Pete didn’t betray you. I’ve spoken to him, and he had no idea his son would do something like this. He was protecting Elise, and he didn’t want to believe his son could be the arsonist.” She cleared her throat. “Do you blame him?”

  In truth, Lincoln did, but her words pricked his hard heart. “I guess I wouldn’t want to think my son was capable of this either.”

  “He’s hurting, Lincoln. He feels like he’s lost both of you now.”

  Lincoln shrugged. “I don’t know if I can go back to what it was.”

  “Then go forward.” She took his arm and pulled him toward the bench in the yard. When she sat down, he joined her. “Lincoln, I can see the guilt in your eyes. Why are blaming yourself for this?”

  “Because I knew what Albert had done at Yale. He was asked to leave because he set fire to a lab.”

  She touched her chin. “Did you tell Hannah about it?”

  “No, I didn’t want her to be scared of Albert. I thought—I hoped—he’d been cured.”

  “So you were protecting her?” Aunt Sam’s brows lifted. “And she was protecting you. I’ll never forget the anguish in her voice when she had to tell you she’d overheard Elise and Pete talking about Albert. Didn’t you hear it? Maybe a part of the reason she didn’t tell you was because she tried to handle it alone, but the other part was because she loves you and didn’t want to hurt you.”

  Lincoln released a long sigh.

  “One more thing.” She stood and faced him. “Knowing you, you’ve been pushing her. I bet you think that she should trust you and that she should turn to you, right?”

  “I want her to let me help her!” He raised his hands in exasperation.

  “I understand. But Hannah can’t change overnight. She’s independent and strong, and she’s been the responsible one in her family all her life. It’s going to take time to learn how to turn to you, and that kind of trust can’t be demanded, it has to be earned.”

  Lincoln stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

  “I am on your side, and I’m on mine too. You’re miserable, Pete’s miserable, and Hannah’s miserable. And you’re all making me miserable.”

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Start here.” She covered his heart with her hand. “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

  With a prayer on her lips, Hannah turned to the book of Ruth. She’d cried an ocean of tears in the last week, but the ache in her heart hadn’t lessened one bit. Now it was time to find some direction. If Ruth’s journey mirrored her own, then it had to have the answer of what to do now.

  Her gaze landed on chapter 3, verse 3. “Wash thyself therefore, and anoint thee, and put thy raiment upon thee, and get thee down to the floor: but make not thyself known unto the man, until he shall have done eating and drinking.”

  Hannah stared at the passage. Was this a prescription for her as well? Like her, Ruth was trying to survive in a difficult time. She needed to start over, and she needed Boaz to cover her. How Hannah had chafed at that thought before, and how she ached for it now.

  Taking the verse apart, she started at the beginning. “Wash thyself”? Could she take that as spiritually purifying her heart? As asking for forgiveness?

  “Lord,” she prayed aloud, “I’ve been stubborn and prideful. I didn’t turn to Lincoln, but worse, I didn’t turn to you. Please forgive me. Purify my heart. Set me on the path you want for my life.”

  She then placed her finger beneath the words “anoint thee.” She recalled the woman who’d anointed Jesus’s feet with costly perfume. Hers was a risky love. Hannah had no intention of drizzling oil over her head or taking a bath in perfume, but could she offer thanksgiving—incense to the Lord?

  For the next few hours, she thanked the Lord for his provisions and asked him for mercy. Even when things seemed darkest, he’d held them in the palm of his hand.

  “Put thy raiment upon thee”? While she could put on her Sunday dress, she didn’t think that would apply here. She decided to consider it putting on Christ. She’d obeyed the gospel nearly five years ago and put on Christ in baptism. A thrill spread through her as she recalled the day she’d said yes to him. He was her raiment now. He was her life.

  Finally, she read that Ruth wasn’t to make herself known. She was to wait.

  Hannah took a deep breath and stared at the phone. She’d have to wait for love to call.

  The telephone rang, jolting Hannah out of a delightful dream. She scrubbed her face with her hands. Sunlight streamed through the window. She must have dozed off.

  She gripped the candlestick phone in her hand, then lifted the earpiece and held it close. “Hello?”

  “Hannah?”

  Her heart skipped a beat, and tears clogged her throat. “Lincoln, I’m so sorry. I should have—”

  “Shhh,” he said softly. “Just listen for a minute. I love you. I don’t want to change you, and I don’t want to run your life, but I do want to share a life with you. I want to be your partner in every way, and that can only happen if you trust me and I trust you.”

  “I do trust you.”

  “You do?” The connection crackled.

  She twirled the cord in her fingers. “A hundred percent. I knew it would hurt you to learn Pete was keeping this secret, but I should have told you anyway. I wanted to handle it on my own. I wanted to handle everything on my own.”

  “And now?”

  “I want God and you to cover me.” She swallowed and waited until the popping noises on the line cleared. “But can you trust me after all I’ve done?”

  “You were trying to protect me, and I was trying to protect you.”

  His voice sounded so gentle, Hannah pictured his dove-blue eyes softening.

  “I knew about Albert’s history, and I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry too.” His voice warbled, and he cleared his throat. “Hannah, I asked you this before, but I’m asking again. Will you take a risk on me?”

  48

  Standing before the mirror, Hannah stared at her reflection. The soft ivory dress layered with lace fit her waist snugly. The impulsive girl who’d left college to take care of her sisters was gone, only to be replaced by a woman who was learning to rely on the Lord.

  “Aren’t you ready yet?” Tessa stuck her head in the door.

  “Almost. Will you ask Charlotte to come here a minute?”

  Tessa disappeared and returned with Charlotte in tow. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you. Can you help me do up the buttons on these gloves?” Hannah held out her hand to Charlotte.

  Charlotte slipped the pearl buttons through the holes. “I can’t believe you trust Lincoln with something as important as the location of your wedding.”

  “I think it’s very romantic.” Tessa pulled back the curtain. “And the carriage is here to take us there. Are you ready now?”

  “As soon as I tell you both how much I love you.” Hannah reached for their hands. “And to thank you. You both have been gracious about our move to Saint Paul, and Lincoln is excited about opening his own practice there.” Hannah’s heart tugged as she recalled Lincoln explaining that Pete was giving up his law practice to spend more time with Elise, now that Albert was being sent to the asylum. The decision meant they’d all be starting over.

  “And you’ll be by Lincoln’s side once we get there.” Charlotte beamed at her.

  “Yes, after I finish law school.”

  Tessa’s eyes twinkled. “You mean if you finish.”

  Charlotte repinned one of Hannah’s curls. “She’ll finish. We’ll make sure of it.”

  The carriage stopped, and Lincoln opened the door. Tessa popped out first, followed by Rosie and then Charlotte. Finally, Hannah appeared, and he took her hand. The blindfold he’d asked her to wear still covered her eyes.

  “Easy.” He helped her alight and
tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Trust me. I’ve got you covered.”

  “I know you do.”

  They came to a stop, and he motioned for everyone to be quiet. “We’re here.”

  Had they gone inside and she didn’t realize it? No, Hannah could still hear the trills of birds and the rippling of leaves.

  Lincoln tugged off the blindfold.

  She blinked, then gasped. Before her stood the heavy wicker basket of a hot air balloon. Her eyes climbed higher, and she felt dwarfed by the huge, multicolored balloon overhead. Brother Molden waited for them inside the basket.

  She turned to Lincoln. “We’re getting married in there?”

  “It seemed like the appropriate place for my Hello Girl with dreams of flying. Do you like it?”

  “Lincoln, it’s perfect.”

  He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the basket. After setting her inside, he climbed in, and the balloonist released the tethers.

  The balloon began its ascent, and Hannah could scarcely breathe. She waved to her sisters, Rosie, Pete and Elise, Jo, and Aunt Sam. Walt was there with his parents. They’d brought George too. How kind it was for them to take in the boy while his father was incarcerated for the fires he’d set in the Western Union buildings.

  They rose above the trees and the fields, and their family and friends below grew smaller, as did the city’s buildings. She glanced at Lincoln. His gaze seemed fixed on her and not the sights. Heat spread over her face and neck.

  “Are we ready to begin?” Brother Molden asked.

  Hannah nodded, and Lincoln took her hands. “Yes, sir, I’d certainly like to make this lady my bride.”

  Brother Molden grinned. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered up here …”

  She didn’t hear most of what the minister said. She said her “I do” in the right place, repeated the vows, and exchanged the rings, but her mind was focused on the feelings exploding inside her. Like the rising balloon, her heart swelled with love until she feared it might burst.

  “Lincoln, you may kiss your bride.”