by Bonnie Leon
“My goodness.” Gwen giggled. “He’s smitten.”
“He’s not. I don’t trust him,” Lydia said. “I’m not the kind of woman for him.” She glanced down at herself. “Look at me. I’m plain and broad in the hips. My mouth gets the better of me, my manners are not genteel, and I’ve no fancy clothing. He’s used to another type of woman.”
“Lydia.” Hannah’s tone was sharp. “Obviously he’s searched his heart and come to a different conclusion. He’s clearly taken with you.” She jostled her packages, nearly dropping one. “Don’t be so stubborn. And of course you’re not at all plain. You’ve lovely green eyes and auburn hair. And broad hips are good for birthing babies.” She smiled. “I’d say you’re just what he wants.”
14
“Did ye hear ’bout Charles Davies?” Perry asked John, following him out of the Atherton tool shop.
“What about him?”
“Got himself killed yesterday.”
“What happened?”
“Guess he and his boy were fishin’ along the river, and he had some kind of fit or something and fell in. The lad tried to save him, but . . . he couldn’t do anything to help.”
“Good Lord.” John shook his head. “Davies was a good man, a fine bricklayer.”
“He was indeed. The work he did ’ere was always first-rate.” John blew out a breath. “What about his boy? He lost his mother as well, didn’t he?”
“Right. And a sister too. He’s alone now.”
“Poor lad. No other family?”
“Not that I ever heard of.”
John was quiet. What could be said about someone newly orphaned? An image of his own father, showing him how to secure a worm on a hook, flickered through his mind. He couldn’t imagine having to grow up without him. “What’s to become of the boy?”
Perry shrugged. “Heard he was stayin’ with the Roberts family. Not doin’ so well, though. Won’t speak a word.”
“Can’t say that I blame him. Thomas is his name, right?”
“Yeah.”
“How old is he?”
“Ten, I’d guess.”
Heaviness of heart settled over John. “It’s a shame.”
“Figure the Lord will look after him.”
John nodded. “Well, I better be on my way.” He moved to his horse, untied the reins from the hitching post, and swung up into the saddle. “Hannah’s waiting for me. If I don’t get home soon, she’ll start worrying.”
“Right then, have a good day.”
John rested his hands on the saddle horn. “By the way, the shop’s looking splendid. You’re doing a fine job.”
“I wouldn’t even be ’ere without ye. Yer the one put Mr. Atherton on to me.” Perry lifted his hat slightly before resettling it on his head. “So, I thank ye.” He smiled. “I like the work. And I’m a pretty good hand at toolmaking. Who would ’ave figured, eh?” He grinned.
“I knew you’d do well.” John lifted the reins.
“Another thing, before ye go—I was wondering what ye think of me getting married?”
John raised his eyebrows. He’d been waiting for Perry to say something about Gwen. “I guess that would depend on who you’re thinking of marrying.”
“Gwen, of course. She’s a fine gal. What do ye think, eh?”
“The two of you seem right for each other. I think it’s a good idea.” The horse restlessly moved from one foot to the other. “What about Lydia? Do you still have feelings for her? I’d hate to see you marry Gwen when you’re smitten with Lydia.”
Perry scratched the back of his head, pushing his hat forward. “Don’t know that I’ll ever be over her completely. But I know we’re not good for each other, not that way anyways. I’ve a good friend in her, though.” He looked toward the main house. “And Gwen, well, she’s a good lady. I love her. And I think she loves me.”
“If you love her, that’s all that matters.” John smiled.
With a nod, Perry took a step toward the shop. “So, ye’ll be back next week, then?”
“Sunday. Hannah and some of the ladies have planned to get together after services.” A gust of wind caught at John’s hat. He grabbed hold of it and glanced at dark clouds rolling across the sky. “Looks like foul weather. Better get home before it hits. I’ve a batch of new lambs that’ll need sheltering. They seem almost eager to die in their first weeks—doesn’t take much to put them down.”
“I heard ye had some new ones.” Perry shook his head. “Can’t see ye caring for lambs.”
“It’s hard work. Maybe you ought to try it.”
“Not for me. I’ll see ye Sunday.” Perry sauntered toward the shop.
John rode away, trotting toward the road. His thoughts immediately went to Charles Davies and his son, Thomas. Thank the Lord there’s someone to care for the lad.
Deidre strolled across the grounds and stepped into the roadway. Wearing a friendly expression, she planted her hands on her hips and waited for him.
She’s the last person I want to see. John pulled back on the reins and slowed his horse, then stopped alongside Deidre.
“Good day.” Her eyes held John’s. “I was hoping to have a word with ye.”
“Oh? What about?” John knew exactly what about.
“Life can be dreadful, especially for a woman living on her own. It’s a lonely, harsh existence. I’ve nearly no supplies at all. I won’t make it to summer.”
John’s anger boiled and he gripped the reins more tightly.
“I was wondering if ye could see yer way to sending me another hog and getting some staples for my larder.”
“I already gave you more than I had to give, and it’s only been a couple of weeks since. If you’re running short, then I’d say you ought to guard your goods more carefully.”
Her butter-soft tone gone, Deidre asked, “Are you suggesting that I’m careless and wasteful?”
“Make of it what you like.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “No matter. I shan’t make it without help. And you’re the one God’s called to come to my aid.”
“He’s not called me to do anything for you.” John looked down the road. He wanted to charge past the malicious strumpet and get home to Hannah. “I’ve done all I can.”
“No ye haven’t.” Deidre’s eyes narrowed. “Ye’ll do more.”
John squared his jaw and glared down at her. “I won’t. I’ll do nothing.”
She sighed in an exaggerated way. “Ye will. Ye’ve no choice.” She smiled malevolently.
John could stand no more. He leaned forward and tried to ride past. She moved quickly to block his way and grabbed hold of the reins. Startled, the horse pulled against the restraint, dancing and tossing his head.
She held tight. Deidre was sturdier than she looked. “I’ll expect flour and cornmeal, some turnips, molasses, and another hog. And I’ll be needing cash for fabric.”
“What in the world will ye do with another hog?”
Deidre looked at him with a wicked grin. “I’ve been awfully hungry of late.”
“You sold it!” John exploded. “I can’t do more. You’ll have to look elsewhere for your help.”
Deidre smiled and acted as if she’d not heard him. She stepped back a pace and lifted her skirt just enough to reveal the toe of one shoe. “I’ll be making a trip to the cobbler’s. My shoes are in deplorable condition as ye can see.”
“I don’t care a whit about your shoes. Let loose of the reins.”
Deidre’s expression turned hard. John felt as if he were facing off with a deadly viper. She’d murder if it suited her.
“You’ll do as I say or I’ll go to Reverend Taylor.”
“You’ve chosen the wrong man for your extortion. You’d be better off finding someone who had something to give.”
“But this is much more fun.” Deidre chuckled.
John knew he was trapped. What could he say that would make a difference? “How am I to give you what you’re asking for without being
found out? Hannah will notice that goods are missing. I already lied about the ewes and the hog.”
“Did ye come up with a good story?”
John glared at her. He wasn’t about to tell her anything. But he remembered the guilt he’d felt when he’d told Hannah the ewes had wandered off and that he’d sold the hog. He wasn’t accustomed to lying.
“What ye say to yer wife is yer problem. It doesn’t bother me in the least if she knows. Why do ye care?” She turned away and started back to the house. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “I shan’t be working tomorrow. I’ll expect ye.”
John felt like a rat caught in a trap. While he watched her walk away, her question, “Why do ye care?” rang through his mind.
Of course I can’t tell Hannah. She already has enough to worryabout. What good will it do if I tell her? John knew there was more to it. Deidre made him feel small. She had power over him. It was his duty to look after and to protect Hannah, and he was failing her.
There was a truth John didn’t want to look at—something he could scarcely consider. The secret Deidre held was ugly. Just that she knew was frightening. How was it that she had knowledge of Hannah’s past? A past John wanted to forget, to pretend had never happened. If Hannah were to stand with him against Deidre, her past couldn’t be forgotten—instead it became part of the present.
His jaw set, John scanned the Atherton grounds and seemed almost unaware of Hannah. He offered her a hand down from the wagon, then reached into the back and lifted out a picnic basket. “Where would you like it?”
“Because the weather’s so nice, Catharine thought it best to eat on the veranda.” She glanced up at a cloudless sky, then back at John. He’d not been himself. He was quieter than usual and seemed tense. “John, is everything all right?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“You’re sure?”
“What could be wrong?”
“That’s what I’m wondering. You don’t seem yourself.”
“Everything’s fine. I’ve a bit of a headache is all.”
“All right, then. I’ll find Lydia.” Still certain something was troubling John, Hannah strolled toward Lydia’s cabin. The door opened before Hannah had a chance to knock.
Wearing a broad smile, Lydia grasped Hannah’s hands. “This will be great fun. David is joining us.” She stepped onto the porch. “Do I look all right?” She made a small turn.
“Yes. Lovely.”
“I mean, is my hair in place and—”
“You look beautiful. And David will think so too.”
“I know I shouldn’t worry. But it hasn’t been that long since we started seeing each other again.”
“I doubt you have anything to fret about.”
Lydia looped her arm through Hannah’s. “I hope yer right.” The two set off toward the main house. “It’s grand that the Athertons have included me. After all, I’m a domestic and a convict.”
“They’re truly gracious people.”
“I daresay, there are some who would take offense if they knew.”
Hannah felt her stomach rumble. “I’m starved. John stayed after church to speak to the reverend. He’s making some tools for the church that will be kept on the premises.”
“That’s a fine idea.” Lydia’s stomach growled loudly and she exclaimed, “I’m so hungry I could eat an entire cow.”
When the two friends climbed the veranda steps, Catharine Atherton greeted Hannah with a hug. “You’re looking lovely, dear. I wish you’d visit more often.”
“I’d like to, but there’s always so much to be done at home.” She moved onto the veranda and smiled at William Atherton who sat in a slat-backed chair. “Thank you for inviting us.”
William stood. “We’re glad to have you.” After Hannah and Lydia found seats, he sat down.
“It’s not too chilly, is it?” Catharine asked, taking the chair beside her husband.
“No. It’s perfect,” Hannah said.
William slung his right leg over the left. “Heard summer’s expected early this year. Supposed to be hotter than usual too.”
“I could do with some warm weather,” John said, leaning against the railing. He kept looking about, as if searching or waiting for someone.
Hannah felt a queasiness in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong. She could feel it.
“Is everything all right, John?” Catharine asked.
“Fine. Everything’s fine,” he said, sitting beside Hannah.
“Good. You seem a bit unsettled.”
“Do I?” He leaned back and clasped his hands on his stomach. The pose looked relaxed, but he tightened and then loosened his grip several times while tapping the heels of his boots against the wooden floor of the porch.
When Mrs. Goudy served tea, Hannah thought she also seemed on edge and actually acted unfriendly toward John. She’d never been a callous person, so when she passed John by the first time while serving the tea, Hannah was sure it had simply been an oversight, but then she also ignored him when she distributed biscuits. Mrs. Atherton had to remind her to serve John. Mrs. Goudy did so but wasn’t at all friendly when she offered him the sweet.
It was so unlike her that Hannah excused herself and sought out the cook. She stepped into the kitchen. “Mrs. Goudy, you seem a bit out of sorts. Is there something troubling you?”
“No, dear. I’m right as rain.” She poured water into a crystal pitcher.
“You didn’t mean to skip over my husband when you were serving, then?”
Mrs. Goudy didn’t look at Hannah. And she didn’t answer the question.
“There is something wrong. What is it?”
“Nothing. I’m sure your friends are missing you—”
“Have I done something to offend you? Or has John?”
“No. Of course not.” She picked up the pitcher. “I’d best get back to work. And Dalton is expecting me. The Athertons have guests coming next week, and we need to work out a proper schedule and a menu.”
Deciding to ignore Mrs. Goudy’s unusual mood, Hannah took a step toward the dining room, but something inside told her it was more than Mrs. Goudy’s bad mood. She turned back to face the woman. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Perhaps I can be of some help.”
The woman’s blue eyes rested on Hannah. “It would be best if you let this go.”
“But if I’ve done something.”
“No. You haven’t.”
“What is it, then?”
Mrs. Goudy set down the pitcher. “I don’t want you hurt, dear.”
Alarm thumped through Hannah. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I’m not one to carry tales . . .” She compressed her lips. “But I also don’t believe it’s right to stand by idly while someone I care about is being ill treated.”
“You’re frightening me. What is it that has you so concerned?”
Mrs. Goudy glanced toward the veranda and then back at Hannah. “There’s no way ’round it, except to come out with it.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve seen John with Deidre O’Neil on more than one occasion. And I’ve heard tell he’s been seen at her cottage as well . . . with gifts.”
Shock and disbelief swept through Hannah. “What do you mean, he’s been seen with her?”
“Just that. They’ve been alone together, and he’s visited her cottage, always taking her things.”
“Are you implying . . . that my husband has been unfaithful?” Trembling, Hannah’s fingers played over her collar.
“I only know what I’ve seen and heard. And I know Deidre. She’s out for men, especially those who might be of . . . benefit to her. I must admit I find the idea unbelievable. John’s always seemed a gentleman, but the wiles of a woman have been known to bring down even the best man.”
Hannah whirled around so her back was to Mrs. Goudy. Hurt and outrage boiled through her. She pressed a closed fist to her mouth. How could he? John would never . . . But even while Hannah tried to comfort herself with how noble John had
always been, she also knew he was just a man. And recently, he hadn’t been acting like himself.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Mrs. Goudy said and hurried out of the room.
Feeling as if her feet were glued to the floor, Hannah stood in the kitchen, unable to comprehend the possibility that John had been unfaithful. What should I do? How can I go out thereand face him? Face them? They probably all know.
“Hannah?” John called.
The sound of the door closing carried from the front of the house. His steps echoed across the vestibule and the wood floor in the dining room.
“Ah, there you are. I was wondering . . .” He stopped and stared at Hannah. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Hannah glowered at him. “How could you?”
“How could I what?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t.” He moved to Hannah, but she pulled away.
“I trusted you.” She looked at John through a blur of tears. “And with Deidre? Why Deidre?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know. Mrs. Goudy told me. She saw you and . . . and her. Others have seen you too.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been seeing that woman! Stop acting innocent!”
John looked stricken. Hannah had hoped he’d deny the charges, explain that it was all just a misunderstanding. Instead he turned pale and said nothing.
“So. It’s true, then.” Hannah thought she might be sick.
“No. It’s not what you’re thinking. I was there, but I’m not interested in Deidre O’Neil, not like that. I could never be.”
“Then what have you been doing at her house? And why have you been giving her gifts? And all without telling me.”
John stared at the floor for a long while. When he finally looked at Hannah, his amber eyes were bleak. “I know it looks bad, but I’ve done nothing wrong.” He hesitated, then added, “Except that I’ve kept something from you.”
“You admit it, then.”
His eyes bore into hers. “Of course not. I’d not lay a hand on Deidre O’Neil.” Then so quietly that Hannah could barely hear him, he said, “She knows.”
