by Bonnie Leon
Hannah could see that food of some sort was stuck to the seat with flies feasting on it. “I’ll stand, thank you.”
Deidre gazed at Hannah. “Did ye bring me payment, then?” “No. I did not. And I shall not.”
Deidre’s spine straightened and her expression turned ugly. “Then why ye here?”
“To tell you there’ll be no more payments.”
Deidre sneered. “Oh? Really?” She threw one leg over the other. “I’ll tell ye what—ye’ll do as I say.”
“No. I won’t.”
Hannah thought she saw a flicker of doubt in Deidre’s eyes. “And do ye know what’s at stake?”
“I do.” Just as she’d prayed, Hannah felt the presence and power of God. She met Deidre’s cruel gaze.
“I don’t think ye do. I know all ’bout ye. Every detail of yer sordid tale. Yer friend Lydia told me the sad story.” She chuckled.
“She was quite concerned and hoped I’d be praying for ye.”
“Yes. I know. She’s a good friend who meant well.”
“It did turn out well . . . for me.”
“Perhaps not.” Although still frightened, Hannah managed to smile. “There’s a Scripture in Proverbs that says, ‘Food gained by fraud tastes sweet to a man, but he ends up with a mouth full of gravel.’ ” She enjoyed the taste of God’s Word on her lips.
Deidre stood and walked to the hearth where she leaned against loose chinking. “I know ’bout yer affair with that judge.”
“There was no affair.”
“Oh, is that how ye see it, then? Ye were just a poor unfortunate that was taken advantage of, eh?”
“I was.” Hannah was shocked that she felt no outrage, only controlled righteous anger.
“When the gentleman was done with ye, he left ye in the family way. Isn’t that why he put ye out? Ye sponged off him as long as ye could, offering favors. But alas, when it was clear ye were carrying a child, he was forced to send ye packing.”
“That’s not at all how it was.”
“So ye say. I figured ye decided some recompense was owed ye and helped yerself to some of his property before ye crept away.”
So that’s how it’s going to be, then. Hannah remained calm. “That’s not true. None of it.”
“Oh, isn’t it? What do ye think the elders will believe? Especially when they hear how ye killed the poor innocent babe. Ripped him from yer body the way ye did.”
“I didn’t.” The familiar taste of guilt raised up inside Hannah. She dared not let Deidre see it. “The child died because it was born too early. And I never tempted that man, nor did I steal from him. I only took bread after I’d been on the streets and could find nothing to eat.”
“That’s not what I heard. I can understand using a man to see to yer needs, but killing a baby, praying for it to die—there’s nothing more despicable.” She moved to the window.
Again, guilt reached for Hannah. The sin was gone, covered by the blood of Christ. No amount of guilt or shame would change what had happened. She breathed in slowly, nearly choking on the stink in the room. “You can think as you like. It makes no difference to me. John and I will pay you nothing more—nothing.”
Deidre narrowed her eyes. “Ye’ll be sorry for it. People like to gossip. They’ll believe the worst and ye’ll be ruined.”
“As will you.” Hannah knew it would be a wasted effort but felt she must try once more. “When the truth is known, they’ll see you for who you really are. You’ll have no reputation left.”
Deidre smirked. “Ye think I care ’bout that, eh? I’ve been alone in this world a long while and I’ve learned to take care of myself. There’s always someone wanting a gal to warm their bed. As ye well know.”
Hannah understood the implication and had heard enough. Before she realized her intent, she closed the distance between herself and Deidre and slapped the other woman’s face.
Stunned, Deidre pressed a hand against her cheek. “Ye’ll be sorry for that. Out! Out of my house!”
Hannah stared at her. She felt no remorse for the slap. Deidre deserved worse. “I’ll be glad to.” She turned and walked out, hurrying down the steps. Her hands trembling, she untied the horse’s reins and pushed up into the saddle.
Deidre flew onto the porch and shrieked, “Ye should have paid me. Things will go badly for ye now. Soon all the district will know ’bout ye. Ye’ll not be able to show yer face anywhere.”
Hannah sat on her horse and stared at the pathetic caricature of the woman she’d first met months before. Deidre was no longer beautiful but ugly and pathetic. She turned her horse and headed for the road.
Shrewish shrieks and taunts echoed behind her and were finally swallowed up by the forest. There was nothing more to be done now. Hannah’s life was in God’s hands, as it always had been.
24
The morning sun baked golden fields. “It’s impossibly hot,” Hannah said, holding her umbrella so that it shaded her and John.
“Nothing is impossible.” He leaned on his thighs, holding the reins loosely.
Hannah knew he was talking about more than the weather. Since her visit to Deidre, they’d not heard a word. It had been an agonizing two weeks of mental captivity, but they were beginning to breathe easier. Perhaps she had been bluffing, after all.
“Remember English summers?” John asked, wearing a relaxed smile.
Hannah’s mind carried her back to warm days where the heat most often felt comforting. Outside the city it had been green and damp. She smiled at the memory. How lovely the flowers had been. “I remember,” she said. “I’d love to be there right now.” In truth, Hannah would have liked to be almost anywhere else. Attending church was a difficult challenge. For since they’d not seen anyone during the week, she didn’t know if Deidre had spoken up. Those at church would know. And if Deidre hadn’t said anything, she might at any time. It was an ongoing trepidation.
John lifted the reins. “Hurry along, now.”
“Why must we hurry?” She leaned against John. “Meandering might be nicer.”
“We might miss services.”
“And that would be bad, eh?” Hannah tried to make her tone light.
John gave her a hug and continued on.
She dreaded seeing Deidre again. If she’d spoken to the reverend or the elders—Hannah could imagine what she would see in their eyes, especially if they’d believed Deidre’s version of her past.
Hannah glanced into the back of the wagon. Thomas sat facing the road, his legs dangling over the back. He seemed perfectly happy to study where they’d already been. He was most likely thinking about the next best place to cast in his fishing line. It had become one of his favorite pastimes. He brought home crayfish, turtles, and mullets. And talked about how he was going to figure out a way to catch a duck. Although Hannah wasn’t fond of crayfish, she had found a way to make them edible, but she refused to cook turtles and told him to return the poor creatures to their homes.
“Do you think she’ll be there?” Hannah asked.
“We’ll know soon. But we’ve not heard from any of the elders, so she’s most likely not said anything.”
“Do you think it possible she’s moved on?”
“We can hope, but more than likely she’s still living in her wretched cottage.” He looked at Hannah. “We can only wait and pray.”
Hannah thought back to the decision they’d made to move if Deidre did speak up. She didn’t want to leave Parramatta. It was her home; she had friends and the farm was doing well. Changing her grip on the umbrella handle, she quietly asked, “Do you truly think it wise to move away? Our life is here. I’d miss my friends terribly.”
John glanced back at Thomas and said in a hushed voice, “I don’t want to leave, but I don’t see any other way. If we’re to stay, people must be willing to do business with me and . . . if things go badly, there may not be enough trade for me in the district.” He patted her thigh. “There are other places, fine places to live and to
make a fresh start.”
“Isn’t it possible that we’ll still be able to make it? After all, you’re an honorable businessman, and that’s what matters most to people, don’t you think?”
“Of course it matters.” He shook his head slightly. “Hannah, I think we’ve gotten ahead of ourselves. There’s no reason to plan on leaving just yet. Deidre’s said nothing. And most likely she won’t. I’m beginning to think it was all a ruse.” He patted her leg. “You did the right thing.”
Hannah leaned in closer to John.
“Try not to worry, luv. God has us in his hand.”
Hannah closed her eyes and breathed in the peace John offered. Thank you, Lord, for this good man.
When John and Hannah’s wagon rolled into the churchyard, it was crowded with buggies and wagons, as usual. Children played tag in a field beside the church, and a cluster of men stood at the bottom of the steps. Everything seemed normal.
“All looks well.” John pulled the horses to a stop in the shade of a gum tree. He climbed out and gave Hannah a hand down.
Thomas jumped off the back. “Can I play?”
“Yes,” Hannah said. “But make sure you’re beside us in church by the time services begin.” She checked to make sure the food for the church picnic was covered and protected from flies.
“I will,” he called and ran to join the children.
Wearing a smile, John watched him. “Seems the youngsters are more interested in socializing than in their faith.”
“You consider that unusual?” Hannah teased.
“Not in the least. It was the same for me.” He gave her a sideways hug. “And for you too, I imagine.”
“As I recall.”
John tucked Hannah’s arm into his and the two walked toward the church. Hannah was surprised at the peace she felt. Of course I should feel safe. This is my church family. What betterplace to feel secure than here among my friends.
She’d nearly reached the steps when she saw Deidre just inside the door. Peace took flight. Hannah sucked in a breath and pressed a hand against her chest to quiet her thumping heart. “She’s here,” she whispered.
Deidre remained where she was and met Hannah’s gaze. She almost smiled and then disappeared inside the building.
“Pay her no mind,” John said as he stepped up to the reverend. “Good day to you.”
The reverend smiled and shook John’s hand. “It’s a fine day, eh. Looks to be a hot one, though.”
“That it does.”
He doesn’t know. Hannah nodded at the reverend and managed a tremulous smile. What would he think of her once he knew? What has become of your faith? You confronted Deidrewith confidence. You felt God’s power and presence. What haschanged? Hannah knew God hadn’t changed, it was her. She’d allowed her mind to reflect on what might go wrong, rather than staying focused on his promises.
John kept ahold of Hannah’s arm and steered her through the door and inside the church. Bright sunlight streamed in through the windows, heating up the room. Needing comfort, her eyes sought out the cross at the front of the sanctuary.
John moved forward, guiding Hannah. She could feel his strength and was thankful for it. He stopped and stood aside to allow her to sit and then moved into the pew beside her. Hannah kept her eyes forward, not sure just what to do. What if Deidre was telling people at this very moment?
Just as Matilda James sat down at the piano, Thomas scooted in beside his parents. He pushed blond hair off his forehead and smiled at Hannah and John, then moved in between them.
Matilda’s fingers played over the keys as a familiar hymn resonated throughout the sanctuary. “ ‘All hail the power of Jesus’ name! Let angels prostrate fall; bring forth the royal diadem, and crown him Lord of all!’ ”
Hannah voiced the words, but she barely heard them. “ ‘Ye chosen seed of Israel’s race, ye ransomed of the fall, hail him who saves you by his grace, and crown him Lord of all.’ ”
Voices melded in worship. Hannah tried to feel the power of the words, but she could only think of Deidre. What if today was the day?
Hannah looked about the room and saw worshipful friends. Would they still be her friends if they knew the truth? She had no doubts about the Athertons or Gwen and Perry or Lydia, but she felt no certainty about the others.
The first hymn was followed by another. Hannah kept her hands clasped in her lap. She felt overly hot. Where was Deidre? Hannah glanced behind her. Three rows from the back she sat, looking smug. While she sang, her pale green eyes found Hannah and bored into her. Hannah quickly looked toward the front. She’s going to spread her poisonous lies.
Matilda stopped playing and the reverend moved to the lectern at the front. “Good day to you all.” He smiled. “As a reminder, today is the church picnic. After services we’ll gather at the river. I hope you all can join us. There will be games and the food promises to be superb. I understand the women have been cooking all week.” He smiled, then cleared his throat and brushed back his graying hair. “Fun and frolic is good for the soul.”
He opened his Bible. “Now, shall we look into God’s Word together.”
“Reverend, I must speak first.”
Hannah heard Deidre’s voice. She fumbled for John’s hand. He squeezed it tightly.
“Reverend, I have a matter that must be addressed.”
Hannah kept her eyes forward, staring at the back of the pew in front of her. She heard the rustle of clothing. She glanced back. Deidre stood, looking innocent and wholesome, nothing like the woman she’d seen when she’d confronted her. Lord,please let there be justice.
“Miss O’Neil, perhaps you could wait until after services.”
“It can’t wait. I have a duty to expose a grievous sin.”
The reverend’s blue eyes were troubled.
“The Word says we’re to expose sin and deal with it, am I right?”
He ran a finger under his tight collar. “Of course. But we must keep Scripture in context. Sin is to be dealt with, but perhaps it would best be done after services and not so publicly.” He looked down at his Bible.
“I think not. Not this time. I have something to say that everyone should hear.” Unable to disguise her ruthlessness, Deidre no longer looked innocent. “God’s Word says we are to hold one another to account. Isn’t that right?”
“Correct, but not—”
“And doesn’t it say we’re to go to that person and see to it that they repent?” Deidre’s eyes found Hannah. “I’m simply obeying the Word.”
The reverend leaned on the lectern. “Yes, Deidre, we are to hold one another accountable, and repentance is necessary to maintain a vigorous relationship with God. But there is a process by which the church must conduct such matters. I’d like to discuss that with you . . . after services.”
“No, Reverend. This can’t wait.” Deidre turned and faced Hannah. “We have a fraud among us!” She pointed at Hannah. “Hannah Bradshaw must be held to account!”
Gasps erupted throughout the sanctuary. The reverend, looking aghast, turned to Hannah.
“She’s an adulteress!” Deidre said.
“Deidre, I think—”
Ignoring the reverend’s appeal, Deidre continued, “While living in London, she sold her body to a magistrate, and when she found herself with child, she left in the middle of the night, but only after having stolen a costly silver chalice.”
Nausea swept through Hannah. She thought she might faint.
Deidre strode to the center aisle and moved closer to John and Hannah.
John stood and faced her. “You are lying.”
“Oh and what of you?” Deidre spat at him. “You’ve accepted her sins and protected her—even though she married you under the false pretense of purity.”
“You will be silent,” John bellowed. “You do not speak the truth nor do you have an understanding of the truth.”
“But I do. As well you know.”
Hannah stood. She hung on to John’s arm and
looked to the reverend. “Please, may I speak?”
His expression grave, Reverend Taylor nodded.
“Deidre is speaking falsely.”
“What I’ve said is true! Ask her about the child.”
“I . . . I was with child . . . once. That is true. But the manner in which I came to be in that condition is not as she says.” Dizziness swept over Hannah, and she tightened her grip on John’s arm. She felt a small hand find its way into her palm and looked down to see Thomas gazing up at her, his blue eyes filled with love and encouragement.
“She was an innocent,” John said. “Assaulted by a man of power and wealth. It was he who deserved prison. After he attacked her, Hannah escaped to the streets. It was only when she was at a point of starvation that she took bread from a merchant. That was her only crime.”
He turned a gaze of contempt upon Deidre. “If anyone deserves punishment here, it is you.” He looked over the congregation. “For months she has threatened to expose Hannah’s past, but her version of it, which is a lie. She has remained quiet only because I’ve paid her to do so. My sin is that I’ve given in to her coercion and have not stood strongly enough with my wife against this evil.” “And if yer wife didn’t commit a grave sin, why would ye pay me then, eh?” Deidre challenged. “It was the child. She destroyed it, killed it with her own hands.”
“That’s not true!” Lydia flew to her feet. “I was there. The baby was born before it’s time. It was too tiny to live. It took not one breath. Hannah had no hand in its death.”
Hannah moved to the center aisle. She smiled at Lydia and then looked from John to Deidre and back to the reverend. “Stop. Please stop. I am not innocent. I have committed a grave sin. As my husband has said, my employer, Judge Walker, attacked me and I ran away and I lived on the streets.” Hannah felt strength pour into her. “Days later I was arrested for stealing bread. Judge Walker was the magistrate who oversaw my trial. He accused me unjustly of thievery, saying that I had taken a chalice from his home. I was sentenced to transportation to Sydney Town.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. “While on board the prison ship, I discovered I was with child . . .” She glanced about the room, knowing that what she had to say would likely sever her relationship with most of those present. “I prayed that the baby would die.”
