people and the deep-seated prejudices they held. Because of that, he possessed the potential to do her great harm.
He could bring fresh attention to her. He could inadvertently stir up public resentment, causing problems for Conor and Abby. Even if only indirectly, he could, Hannah realized with a ripple of fear, threaten her secure life at Culdee Creek.
But the young and idealistic priest could and would not see it that way. Only time would remove the blinders from his eyes. Meanwhile, Hannah didn’t intend to be anyone’s sacrificial lamb.
She turned and climbed into the buckboard. “Good day, Father Starr.”
The priest recognized the dismissal and rendered them both a quick nod. “Good day, ladies.” He turned and walked away.
The ride back to the ranch was somber and sad. Conor and Evan rode on ahead with Devlin, one man on either side of him. Abby and Hannah—Bonnie in her arms—followed a short distance behind with the children. A small group of ranch hands brought up the rear.
Beside her, Abby drove the team of horses pulling the buckboard with calm expertise. Hannah studied her covertly. She knew her friend deeply grieved Ella’s passing. Ella had been the one to welcome Abby when she had first arrived at Culdee Creek to work as Conor’s cook, housekeeper, and tutor for his then nine-year-old daughter, Beth. Ella had been the one who had supported her through the difficult months with an embittered, irascible employer and his love-starved, troubled daughter. The bond between the two women had grown deep and strong.
The strain of the past month showed on Abby. She looked pale and exhausted, and had lost weight. Though she had never contracted a full case of the influenza in the weeks of caring for those stricken, Hannah knew Abby had been fighting nausea and feeling poorly almost the whole time. She imagined her friend was near sick to death with grief, too.
Hannah vowed to make more time to help Abby. It was the least she could do for a good and true friend.
The day had turned cool but remained sunny, and a brisk spring breeze rattled the winter-browned grass. At the ground, Hannah could see tiny flashes of green. It made her smile.
Spring was definitely upon them. Another few weeks and everything would brighten with color. Another few weeks and the risk of winter would finally be over.
It was strange, though, to anticipate nature’s rebirth on this day. Ella had died. Her life was over, yet the world went on around them as if seemingly unaffected.
Somehow, that seemed callous and cruel. But then why should she be surprised? Hannah asked herself, her mood taking a dark, painful turn. In the end they were all destined for suffering and death. Only Abby’s unwavering faith in God seemed to hold out hope for something better. Yet some days, Hannah wasn’t so sure she would ever possess a faith as strong as that.
Movement behind her pulled Hannah from her thoughts. For the first time in the past few days the children began to giggle. Hannah glanced over her shoulder.
A feather had worked free from one of the old quilts and had somehow stuck to the tip of her son’s nose. He looked at it cross-eyed and swatted awkwardly at it, but kept missing.
Mary and Devlin Jr. pointed, but did nothing to aid him. Beth smiled in amused tolerance. Finally, when Jackson’s frustration level reached its limits and tears filled his eyes, Hannah leaned back and sent the feather flying with a quick flick of her thumb and middle finger.
“Funny thing, isn’t it, how just when you think life is the most dismal, hopeless fate a person could endure,” Abby observed with a backward glance and smile, “something funny or endearing happens to make you think twice. Then you remember all the blessings you still have, and thank the dear Lord for reminding you.”
“I just hope Devlin can remember that when he sees his children,” Hannah muttered, turning her attention once more to the three men riding ahead. “I
He could bring fresh attention to her. He could inadvertently stir up public resentment, causing problems for Conor and Abby. Even if only indirectly, he could, Hannah realized with a ripple of fear, threaten her secure life at Culdee Creek.
But the young and idealistic priest could and would not see it that way. Only time would remove the blinders from his eyes. Meanwhile, Hannah didn’t intend to be anyone’s sacrificial lamb.
She turned and climbed into the buckboard. “Good day, Father Starr.”
The priest recognized the dismissal and rendered them both a quick nod. “Good day, ladies.” He turned and walked away.
The ride back to the ranch was somber and sad. Conor and Evan rode on ahead with Devlin, one man on either side of him. Abby and Hannah—Bonnie in her arms—followed a short distance behind with the children. A small group of ranch hands brought up the rear.
Beside her, Abby drove the team of horses pulling the buckboard with calm expertise. Hannah studied her covertly. She knew her friend deeply grieved Ella’s passing. Ella had been the one to welcome Abby when she had first arrived at Culdee Creek to work as Conor’s cook, housekeeper, and tutor for his then nine-year-old daughter, Beth. Ella had been the one who had supported her through the difficult months with an embittered, irascible employer and his love-starved, troubled daughter. The bond between the two women had grown deep and strong.
The strain of the past month showed on Abby. She looked pale and exhausted, and had lost weight. Though she had never contracted a full case of the influenza in the weeks of caring for those stricken, Hannah knew Abby had been fighting nausea and feeling poorly almost the whole time. She imagined her friend was near sick to death with grief, too.
Hannah vowed to make more time to help Abby. It was the least she could do for a good and true friend.
The day had turned cool but remained sunny, and a brisk spring breeze rattled the winter-browned grass. At the ground, Hannah could see tiny flashes of green. It made her smile.
Spring was definitely upon them. Another few weeks and everything would brighten with color. Another few weeks and the risk of winter would finally be over.
It was strange, though, to anticipate nature’s rebirth on this day. Ella had died. Her life was over, yet the world went on around them as if seemingly unaffected.
Somehow, that seemed callous and cruel. But then why should she be surprised? Hannah asked herself, her mood taking a dark, painful turn. In the end they were all destined for suffering and death. Only Abby’s unwavering faith in God seemed to hold out hope for something better. Yet some days, Hannah wasn’t so sure she would ever possess a faith as strong as that.
Movement behind her pulled Hannah from her thoughts. For the first time in the past few days the children began to giggle. Hannah glanced over her shoulder.
A feather had worked free from one of the old quilts and had somehow stuck to the tip of her son’s nose. He looked at it cross-eyed and swatted awkwardly at it, but kept missing.
Mary and Devlin Jr. pointed, but did nothing to aid him. Beth smiled in amused tolerance. Finally, when Jackson’s frustration level reached its limits and tears filled his eyes, Hannah leaned back and sent the feather flying with a quick flick of her thumb and middle finger.
“Funny thing, isn’t it, how just when you think life is the most dismal, hopeless fate a person could endure,” Abby observed with a backward glance and smile, “something funny or endearing happens to make you think twice. Then you remember all the blessings you still have, and thank the dear Lord for reminding you.”
“I just hope Devlin can remember that when he sees his children,” Hannah muttered, turning her attention once more to the three men riding ahead. “I
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