by Bonnie Leon
“I thought you’d be happy. We’ve been wanting a child. And the poor boy needs—”
“You said we weren’t to worry, that you were certain we’d have our own, that God wasn’t punishing me.” She glared at him. “You didn’t believe that at all. It was a lie.” She whirled about and stomped into the house.
“Hannah.” John followed her. “I just thought Thomas needed us and that we needed him.”
“That’s not true. You thought my sin so grave that God would withhold his blessings of children. I know I’m not deserving of a child, but as long as you believed, I could too.” Hannah’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’d hoped. I thought you did too.”
Hannah’s response startled John. “I haven’t lost hope. But sometimes we don’t get what we want. I just thought he’d be a child for us to love. He needs us.”
Hannah picked up the broom and swept up embers from around the hearth. “I want children of our own, not someone else’s child.” She stopped, and gripping the broom handle, she stated, “He can stay until you find someone else to take him. I can’t be a mother to him.”
“Lower your voice. He’ll hear you.” John pulled off his hat. “If you could mother Lottie, why not this lad?”
“It was different. We were on the ship and survival was our utmost thought. She needed me to survive.”
“And he doesn’t?”
Hannah’s eyes went to the window. “I just can’t, John. Not now.”
“There is no one else. And think what it will do to him if we send him off. He’s suffered enough.” Hannah’s reaction shocked John. He’d never expected this. He moved to the window and watched Thomas. His arms full of hay, he moved toward the crib. His expression was grim.
“There’s something wrong with him, John.” Hannah’s tone was firm. “He didn’t speak a word and his eyes were filled with hate.”
“Not hate, sorrow . . . and rejection. He’s lost everything. How would you expect him to react, especially when you looked at him as if he had two heads? Where were your open arms? I thought you’d be a mum to him. That’s what he needs.”
Regret and sorrow replaced John’s anticipation and his dreams. He’d made a grave error.
Hannah dropped onto a chair. Silence pervaded the room. Finally she said, “I’m sorry, John. I don’t want to hurt him. I’m just shocked. I’m not prepared. You should have told me before bringing him here.”
The anger in Hannah’s eyes was gone.
“I’m sorry, luv. I heard that the Robertses needed a home for him, and so I went. I was sure you’d be thrilled. We’ve longed for a child.”
“Yes. Our child. John, you should have asked me first.” Tears shimmered in Hannah’s brown eyes. “I believed what you said— that God wasn’t going to punish me. I see now that you were just being kind. God will never give us children.”
“But he has—this boy.”
“Thomas is not ours.”
“He will be if we make him so.”
“I’m sorry, but no. Can’t you take him back to the family he was with?”
“No. I can’t.” John squared his jaw. “I won’t do that to him. His mum and sister died on a prison ship two years ago. Now his father’s gone too, and the people who were looking after him gave him away. They had no means.”
“And neither have we.”
“If you were carrying a child of our own making, we’d find a way. There’d be no question about if we could care for it.”
Hannah stared at John through tears. “You’ve brought this boy into our house without a word from me and now you’re saying I must live with your decision, that I have no choice but to become his mother?” Hannah shook her head. “I don’t want to be his mother.”
A board popped, resonating from the front of the house. Hannah and John turned to see Thomas standing in the doorway.
His blue eyes were hard, his mouth set, and his hands were balled into fists. “I didn’t ask to be ’ere. I don’t need ye. I’ll not trouble ye further.” He turned and trudged down the steps.
16
John stopped the wagon in the churchyard, then looked at Thomas who sat in the back. “Well, this is it. You’ll like church. We’ve good friends here and the reverend’s a fine man.”
Thomas glowered and didn’t respond. He sat with his knees held tight against his chest and stared at nothing in particular.
Hannah glanced at the boy. She felt no love for him and puzzled over why. She’d always thought of herself as a caring person. But Thomas was different from the children she’d known. Since the first day, he’d been trouble. When he’d run off, John had gone after him, and the boy came only when forced; John had to drag him part of the way. It had been a terrible scene and she and John had quarreled. They didn’t speak to each other for a full day.
Thomas had threatened to run off again at the first opportunity, but he hadn’t. Hannah was certain the only reason he didn’t flee was that he had nowhere to go. He felt no affection for either her or John and wanted nothing to do with the farm.
Sadly, she had to admit that it would be best for all if he lived elsewhere. She closed her eyes and sent up a quick prayer. Lord,I pray for patience. And if it’s possible, help us to love each other,all of us. Please put an end to what’s going on in my home. The peace that had once been part of her and John’s life was gone; instead, each day was a series of emotional challenges.
“Come on, lad,” John said, climbing down from the wagon. “Make the best of it, eh? You can try it. You just might discover there are people here you like. There are several lads your age. I’m sure you’ll find a friend among them.”
Still looking surly, Thomas climbed out of the back.
Hannah noticed his hair wasn’t properly combed and his clothes looked like he’d slept in them. He’d refused any help or instruction, and she’d not pressed her standards of dress and cleanliness for fear of another clash.
Thomas shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged toward the church. He walked around to the side, leaned against the building, and stared at the ground. John watched him for a moment and then gave Hannah a hand down from the wagon.
“John, what are we to do with him? He hates us. He doesn’t want to live with us. Perhaps it would be better if you took him back to—”
“They can’t keep him, Hannah. You know that.”
“Perhaps someone else would take him in.”
“Hannah.” John’s voice was tight. “We can’t do that. We’ve got to stick to this and find a way.” He turned toward Thomas. “Look at him. He’s already so downtrodden that I don’t know if he’ll recover. What will happen to him if we pass him off to someone else?”
“I understand, but how can we help when he hates us, especially me? After what I said, I doubt he’ll ever forgive me.”
“He needs time. If we remain steady in our love, eventually he’ll know he’s safe. And he’ll come round.” John gave Hannah’s hand a quick squeeze and then strode toward the boy.
Watching John walk away, Hannah could muster little hope that things would improve. Even if Thomas learned to tolerate them, she didn’t know if she could ever fully be a mother to him. She walked slowly toward the church. Catching sight of Deidre, her mind turned to the other trouble in their lives. What would they do about her?
“Come on, lad.” John rested a hand on the youngster’s shoulder and turned him toward the church steps.
“I’ll go in, but I’m not singing and I’m not listening to anything the reverend says.”
“Just sit then and be quiet.” John looked at Hannah, his frustration evident.
“God’s got no use for me and I’ve no use for him,” Thomas said.
Hannah felt a pang of regret and grief. She remembered feeling just as Thomas had. Once, she’d believed God had turned away from her. How, then, could she have so little sympathy for the boy? Lord, I’ve been despicable. Forgive me. I want to lovehim fiercely, as I would my own, as you have loved me.
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sp; “Hannah,” Gwen called, hurrying toward her. She glanced at John and Thomas, then said quietly, “Perry told me ’bout Thomas. How kind of ye to take him in. Ye must be thrilled to have a child in the house.”
Hannah smiled. “Of course we’re pleased.”
John and Thomas walked toward Perry who slapped John on the back and then bent to shake Thomas’s hand.
“He’s still unsettled and distraught as you can imagine,” Hannah continued. “But at least we can offer him a place to lay his head at night and food to fill his stomach.”
Mr. and Mrs. Atherton’s carriage rolled into the yard. One of the servants’ wagons followed. Hannah caught sight of Lydia but immediately looked away, turning her back on her onetime friend. She couldn’t speak to her.
Catharine Atherton stepped out of the carriage and moved toward Hannah. “Good day, dear.” She kissed Hannah’s cheek. “We missed you last week. I heard you took in the Davies boy. It’s splendid that he’s living with you. I know you’ll make fine parents.”
“We’ll do our best,” was all Hannah could say. She couldn’t bear for Catharine to know the truth of the situation. She looked at John and the lad, and then her eyes locked with John’s. The two silently heartened one another. Hannah smiled at Thomas, but his expression remained gloomy. Inwardly, she quaked at her own weakness. I can love him, she told herself. She hoped that underneath Thomas’s angry exterior there lived a child who needed to be cherished and who wanted to love others.
Lydia approached. She slowed slightly and glanced at Hannah as she walked past. Although Hannah knew she was there, she refused to look at her or acknowledge her in any way. Lydia moved on.
Catharine watched Lydia walk up the church steps and disappear through the front door. “What’s happened between you two?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
“You two were so close. There must be something that can be done to repair your friendship.”
“People aren’t always who you think they are.” Hurt welled up as if she’d just learned of Lydia’s betrayal.
Catharine let out a sigh. “It’s hard to believe, after all you’ve been through together that—”
“Some things just can’t be mended.” Hannah caught John’s eye, and wanting to avoid any further discussion, she said, “Please excuse me. John’s waiting.”
John met Hannah at the bottom of the stairway. “Shall we go in together?”
Hannah leaned in close to him and looped her arm through his. She smiled down at Thomas and felt a stirring of affection. “I’m glad you’re with us, Thomas. Truly.”
He stared back, his blue eyes cool and wary.
Hannah tried to hang on to the warmth she’d felt. “Shall we go in?”
She and John walked up the steps together and into the church. Thomas followed. When they moved indoors, neighbors and friends greeted them warmly, offering congratulations and greeting the new member of the Bradshaw home. Thomas kept his lips shut tight and refused to respond to any of them, not even offering a nod. Hannah was awash with guilt. It seemed everyone saw her and John as the boy’s saviors, but she didn’t feel in the least like one.
Charlotte Smith, Lottie’s adoptive mother, grasped Hannah’s hand. “I heard,” she said, barely able to contain her joy. “How wonderful for you and John. And for Thomas. I’ve never regretted adopting Lottie. She was a gift from the Lord. And now you’ve been blessed in the same way.” She kissed Hannah’s cheek. “I know you’ll make a wonderful mother.”
Hannah’s emotions tumbled inside. She wasn’t sure what she felt. There was guilt over not treating Thomas the way she ought, while at the same time she also felt that his coming to her home might well be a blessing, an opportunity to be a mother—if only she could hang on to that. And the jealousy she sometimes felt over Lottie hung in the back of her mind like a shadow. She loved the little girl. If only things had been different, if only she’d been able to keep Lottie. When Charlotte had offered to adopt her, Hannah knew it had been God’s hand that put the two together. Charlotte had longed for a little one, and prison was no place for a child.
Hannah glanced at Thomas. Was he God’s gift to her and John? Lord, I need your heart, not mine.
She focused on Charlotte. “John and I are doing our best.” “Oh, I know. It’s not always easy.”
“No, it isn’t.” Hannah managed to smile. John and Thomas moved on, finding a seat near the back of the church.
“I want you to know that Charles and I are praying for you. In the beginning it can be difficult, but one day you’ll love that boy just as if he were your own.”
Hannah was startled to hear such advice coming from Charlotte. She’d always assumed that Charlotte and Lottie had instantly bonded. “I’m sure you’re right,” Hannah said. “And thank you for your prayers.” Her eyes found Thomas. Staring straight ahead, he sat beside John. She tried to imagine the boy loving her but couldn’t visualize such a thing.
“You know, at first Lottie wasn’t happy to be with Charles and me. She wanted to be with you.”
Hannah stared at Charlotte, surprised over such an admission. “Really? I had no idea. But that is reassuring. Thank you.”
Hannah moved toward the pew. Thomas sat board straight, his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at the back of the pew in front of him. Oh Lord, he’s nothing like Lottie. She wasalways so open and trusting. This is utterly impossible. But even as her thoughts pressed her into unbelief, she knew nothing was beyond God’s ability to accomplish.
She stepped into the row just as Pamela Hughes moved down the center aisle, snuggling a newborn against her. Hannah couldn’t help but look at the infant. She’s beautiful. She moved closer and peered at the child tucked inside a crocheted blanket. “Is it a girl?”
“Yes. Isabelle Marie.”
Hannah drew in a breath of sorrow and her insides ached. “She’s lovely. How old?”
“Just two weeks.”
That’s when Thomas came to us—two weeks ago.
Pamela smiled down at her daughter and rested an index finger against her pink cheek. She looked at Hannah. “Would you like to hold her?”
“May I?” The baby was passed to Hannah. She held the little girl against her breast and caressed the infant’s cheek. Her skin was as soft as rose petals. Inside, Hannah wept for the baby she’d never have. Dropping a kiss on the little one’s forehead, she handed her back to her mother. “God has truly blessed you. She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Pamela took the infant and moved on to another pew. As Hannah sat beside John, she could still smell the fragrance of the newborn and feel the soft bundle of life. Her throat was tight as she held back tears. She wanted to leave, go someplace where she could weep. Instead, she clasped her hands in her lap and, like Thomas, stared at the pew in front of her.
The music played and Hannah sang, but she didn’t hear the words or feel God’s presence. When the reverend spoke, she stared at him as if she were paying attention, but she didn’t hear a word. Her heart and mind couldn’t tear themselves from the little girl and her own longing for a baby.
When the service came to a close, all she could think of was escape. In her mind, she understood that God was in the midst of her circumstances and that he knew what was best for her and her family. But her heart wanted something else. How could she do what he was asking? She glanced at Thomas. She didn’t love him, not the way a mother should cherish a child. He was a sullen boy who wanted nothing to do with her.
Lottie galloped up to Hannah, auburn curls bouncing. She threw her arms about Hannah’s waist. “Good day.” She smiled up at Hannah. “I heard ye got a boy living with ye.”
“That we do.”
“Is he a good boy?”
“He’s very sad right now.” Hannah caressed Lottie’s hair. “Remember how you felt when your mum died?”
“Yes.” She turned and looked at Thomas. “Is that him there with Mr. Bradshaw?”
“It is.”
&
nbsp; “Would it be all right if I said hello to him?”
“Of course.”
Lottie hugged Hannah. “Maybe ye can visit and bring him with ye. He looks to be ’bout my age.”
“He is at that. I’ll make sure to bring him next time I come.”
“Good.” Lottie hurried off toward John and Thomas.
Hannah thought back to how she and Lottie had met. The little girl had started chatting with her while on deck of the prison ship. She’d lost her mum and needed a friend. Hannah had loved her right off. Why do I love her and not Thomas? Thecircumstances were different, Hannah reasoned. We were tryingto survive and she was suddenly without a mother. A quiet voice whispered inside, Not so different.
When Lottie reached John, she said her hellos and then in a very grown-up way offered Thomas her hand. He looked at it, then without acknowledging her, he moved past the sociable child and out of the church. Not to be put off, Lottie followed.
A few minutes later, she returned to Hannah. Leaning against her, Lottie said, “He must be real sad, mum. He won’t say a word. But I figure in time me and him can be friends. Do ye think?”
“Maybe. We’ll see.” Hannah rested a hand on Lottie’s shoulder.
The little girl spotted her mother. “Time for me to go. Don’t forget, please come visit.”
“I’ll come soon.”
She skipped away to her mother.
Hannah walked toward the church door where the reverend stood just outside, greeting parishioners as they passed. When Hannah approached, he said, “Grand to see you. Is everything well with you and John and your new addition?”
“Yes, quite well,” Hannah lied.
“I’m pleased to hear that Thomas is living with you. But I can see that he’s sorrowing. He’s a good boy, though. And he’ll be a fine addition to your family. He needs loving people like you and John.”
Guilt twisted inside Hannah. “Right now he’s quite a sad little boy, but we’ll do our best.” Even though she stated words of hope, Hannah had trouble believing them.
“Trust in the Lord. He’ll see to him and to you.” The reverend’s eyes twinkled. “God has placed him exactly where he belongs. And we must remember that he sees the beginning and the end. I’m absolutely convinced that he has great plans for you and John and Thomas.”
