Читать книгу Western Christmas Brides - Carol Arens - Страница 17

Chapter Seven

Hannah’s hands hurt, and her eyes ached, but as she gently brushed the etching clean, satisfaction spread throughout her. Smiling, she carefully touched several of the tiny faces. This may very well be her best work. Maybe it was just her, but she could recognize each child.

“Can I see it now?” Fiona asked as she poured hot water into the teapot on the counter.

Sitting at the table, Hannah covered the block of wood with a piece of paper. “I wish you could, but that wouldn’t be fair to Rhett and Wyatt.”

“I know what it is,” Fiona said.

“I’m sure you do,” Hannah answered. “But you’ll act as surprised as every other parent in town when the paper arrives.”

“I’ll have Brett take it to the Gazette in the morning,” Fiona said.

“No, I don’t want him to see it, either. I’ll walk it over there myself. I just hope they haven’t printed the paper yet.”

“Teddy doesn’t print it until Saturday.”

“But he lays it all out on Friday.” Which is why she’d worked on the etching nonstop all day.

“I’m sure he won’t mind redoing a page or two in order to include that,” Fiona said. “Now, it’s late, everyone else has been asleep for hours. I have tea and biscuits ready to take upstairs. You barely stopped working long enough to eat supper.”

“Thank you, and I’m sorry for not being any help to you today.”

“Nonsense. I enjoyed seeing you so engrossed in something. You really enjoyed doing that.”

“I did. I’ve never etched people before.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” With a nod toward the paper-covered etching, Fiona said, “Gather your things. I’ll follow you up the stairs.”

* * *

The following morning, as soon as the breakfast dishes were washed and put away, Hannah set half of a pumpkin pie in the bottom of a basket, covered it with a plate, and then put in the etching and corresponding drawing, as well as a smaller etching and drawing. On top, she stacked the drawings the children had made. After covering the basket with a cloth, she retrieved her coat and left the house.

Everyone from Brett down to Rhett had offered to accompany her to the Gazette office, but she’d declined, stating she’d be back shortly. Although her baby was calm and quiet as she walked toward town, nerves had her stomach churning. Offering this olive branch, which is how she chose to think of her actions, was scary, but she wanted better things for her child than what she’d known, and she had to do something to make that happen. It wasn’t easy, but few things worth doing were easy.

The space between the house and the Gazette office had to have shrunk because before she was fully prepared, she’d arrived.

Abigail was on the other side of the glass window, staring at her, and so was Teddy. Hannah willed her courage to remain, and even managed to produce a smile as Teddy pulled open the door.

“H—Mrs. Olsen, what are you doing here? Is everything all right at Brett’s place?”

The genuine concern in his eyes made her heart swell. “Everything is fine,” she said. “Brett and Fiona say hello.” Holding up the basket, she said, “I have something for Ab—Miss White.”

“What?” Abigail asked.

Ignoring Abigail’s tone and glare, Hannah held her smile in place. “May I?” she asked, gesturing toward the counter.

“Of course,” Teddy said. “Allow me.” He took the basket and set it on the counter.

While removing the cloth, Hannah said, “I made an etching of the children’s recital for you to include with your article.”

“Teddy has already completed the typeset for this week’s edition,” Abigail said, stepping up behind the counter. “We won’t be able to use it.”

Refusing to allow her disappointment to show, and seeing how Teddy was preparing to protest, Hannah said, “I understand. I told the children I may not have it completed in time.” Taking the children’s drawings out of the basket, she handed them to Abigail. “They asked me to give you these either way.”

She’d purposefully put Wyatt’s letter on the top of the pile. Frowning, Abigail started flipping through the pieces of paper.

“Some of the children are too young to write, so they drew pictures,” Hannah explained.

Teddy leaned across the counter and picked up Wyatt’s letter. “‘Dear Miss White. I haven’t read the article yet, but thank you for writing about our recital. It was fun and my ma and pa are going to like seeing my picture in the paper. Sincerely, your friend, Wyatt Blackwell.’”

Hannah smiled at how well Teddy had deciphered some of the misspelled words.

He picked up another one that said Abigail was a very good reporter, and another one that said having their picture in the paper was very exciting. That usually only outlaws got their pictures in newspapers.

Laughing at that one, Teddy picked up the one that Rhett had drawn. It was of several small stick people and one large one with “thank you” written at the bottom. “These are adorable.” Transferring his smiling eyes toward his sister, he said, “Aren’t they, Abigail?”

Abigail didn’t respond, but did seem to be concentrating on a longer letter written by one of the older children. Hannah knew the letter. It was from Patty Owens and claimed she’d like to become a reporter someday.

“May I see the etching?” Teddy asked.

“Of course,” Hannah replied, taking it and the corresponding drawing out of the basket. “I listed all of the children on the drawing,” she said. “In case you were able to print it and wanted to include their names.”

“Wow,” he said, examining the block of wood. “I recognize each one of the children. We have to print it.” Handing it to his sister, he said, “Don’t we?”

Abigail didn’t reply, but took the etching.

“I’m afraid it’s larger than any others I’ve done, but I had to make it that big to fit everyone in.”

“It’s perfect,” Teddy said. “Perfect.”

Hannah’s stomach was still churning and she couldn’t quite seem to catch her breath—that was due to standing so close to Teddy. She had thought long and hard about the list he’d given back to her, and how she couldn’t marry any of those men. She’d told herself she’d created the etchings because of Abigail, but in truth, she’d made them because of Teddy. He was so kind and generous and deserved that in return.

Pulling her trailing thoughts back to the task at hand, she reached into the basket. “I made another etching, Abigail.” The other woman’s name hadn’t rolled off her tongue easily and she hoped no one had noticed that. Handing Abigail the small etching, Hannah said, “I made this one of you, in case you’d like to use it.”

Abigail took the block of wood, and Hannah’s stomach completely flip-flopped. Drawing Abigail from memory had been easy. The hard part had been softening her features to make her look as attractive as possible. While drawing, she’d focused on the feature Teddy and Abigail shared—their eyes. So rather than squinting, she’d drawn Abigail’s eyes as round and prominent as Teddy’s were. She’d also changed Abigail’s hair a smidgen. Rather than having it pulled back so tightly, she’d loosened it and drawn a few stray curls near her temples, but had made sure the pencil behind one ear was still visible.

Nervous beyond compare, Hannah said, “My thought had been that you might like to use it if you wanted to print one of the thank-you notes from the children. If there was room in the newspaper, of course.”

Abigail glanced up from the etching, and for the first time ever, there wasn’t loathing in her eyes.

Swallowing a hiccup, Hannah handed Abigail the final piece of paper out of the basket. “Here’s the corresponding drawing.” It was much larger than the etching.

Abigail placed a hand over her mouth as she took the paper with her other hand and stared at it.

Not sure what to do next, Hannah lifted the pie out of the basket. “I brought this, too,” she said to Teddy. “You left before having any dessert on Thanksgiving.”

* * *

Teddy had never seen such a genuine act of kindness in his life, and may never witness one that would compare to this if he lived to be a hundred and one. He wanted to force Abigail to respond, to say something positive, but had accepted Abigail was her own person and needed to accept her own responsibilities.

So did he. “Thank you,” he said. “I was sorry to have missed tasting your pumpkin pie. I believe I’ll have a piece even before I start pulling type.”

“No.”

Teddy balled his hands into fists at Abigail’s voice, and at Hannah’s dejected look. To her credit, she never faltered in putting the cloth back into the basket.

“I’ll pull type, Teddy,” Abigail said. “While you escort Hannah home before Brett and Fiona start to worry about her.”

“That’s not necessary,” Hannah said.

As Abigail stacked the letters from the children into a pile, she said, “It’s the least we can do.”

Teddy was surprised, but agreed. “It is the least we can do.”

“These,” Abigail said, while picking up both etchings, “are amazing, and we will print them in this edition. Thank you for making them. And thank you for bringing them over this morning.”

Relief washed over Teddy, especially as Hannah’s face took on a glow as she placed a hand on her stomach.

“You’re very welcome,” Hannah said. “The children were so excited about the prospect.”

“We’ll print extra copies,” Teddy said, “so they each get their very own copy.”

“They’ll like that,” Hannah answered.

“Teddy,” Abigail said, “shouldn’t you get your coat so you can walk Hannah home?”

“Really, that’s not—”

“Yes, it is,” Teddy said, almost afraid to leave the two women alone. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He hurried around the counter and then through a doorway into the back of the building to grab his coat. Rushing back toward the office, he heard Abigail speak again.

“This was very thoughtful of you,” she said. “Very thoughtful.”

He entered the room as Hannah lifted the basket off the counter.

“I—I sincerely appreciate you providing me with the opportunity to make etchings for the newspaper,” she said. “It’s helped me and my situation considerably. More than you know.”

“It has helped us considerably,” Teddy said. He wasn’t totally sure if Abigail was being sincere, or just acting. It was hard to tell at times, but either way, he was glad she’d behaved. Shrugging into his coat, he rounded the counter and told her, “I won’t be gone long.”

“Take your time,” Abigail said. “I’ll just be pulling type.”

“I can do that when I get back.”

“No,” she replied, looking at the picture of herself. “I can do it. I want to make some changes to the story, too.”

The likeness was very good. It reminded him of her when she was younger.

“I’m sorry to have caused more work for both of you,” Hannah said as he took the basket from her.

“It’s no problem,” he said. “We’re used to last-minute changes. It’s part of the publishing businesses. Isn’t it, Abigail?”

“Yes.” Abigail held up one of the children’s drawings. “And the Gazette is the best newspaper in all of Kansas.”

That was exactly what the piece of paper she held said, with a couple of misspelled words and backward letters. Teddy had to take a second look at his sister. He hadn’t seen her smile so big in a long time. The giggle beside him had him shifting his gaze.

The shine in Hannah’s eyes was the brightest he’d ever seen, and was enough to make his heart hammer harder than his printing press when cranking out newspapers.

“That was one of my favorites,” she said.

“I look forward to reading them all,” he said, opening the door and gesturing for her to cross the threshold first.

“You’ll enjoy them,” she said.

“I’m sure I will. Thank you for delivering them. And thank you for the etchings. They are remarkable, Hannah.”

“Thank you, Teddy.”

It sounded as if she’d said his name as a test, or an afterthought, which was how he’d said her name. A sort of test to see if she’d protest.

“I enjoyed making them, and the children were thrilled with the idea of being in the newspaper. The thank-you notes were Miss Burnett’s idea.”

The wind tugged at her bonnet as they walked and he took her elbow to direct her closer to the buildings for a bit of protection. “I’m sorry for the way I left the other day.”

“That’s why I brought you some pie. I knew you’d been looking forward to it.”

“Thank you for that as well, and I will eat it as soon as I get home, but I meant for how I left you. You were upset. I should have—”

“No, you shouldn’t have, Teddy. I needed to be alone.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have said what I did about Jules Carmichael and Jess Radar. They are good men and once married, I’m sure they would secure different living quarters.”

“Probably, and I’m sure they are good men. Don Carlson, too.” She glanced up at him.

“Yes,” he admitted, with a hint of chagrin. “Don, too. The others on your list are as well, and—”

“I burned it.”

Taken aback by her interruption, he asked, “Burned what?”

“The list. Right after you gave it back to me.” She wasn’t looking at him, but straight ahead, toward the corner they would soon turn down and head east toward Brett’s house.

“Hannah, I—”

“It wasn’t because of anything you said or did. It was me.” She glanced his way. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Were you in love with the woman who didn’t marry you?”

He paused before answering. “I thought I was at the time.” He wasn’t so sure now. Becky had been young and alone, not so different from Hannah, except that Hannah had Brett and Fiona. Becky hadn’t had anyone and that had worried him.

“You thought?”

Becky had been in his thoughts lately, as well as what his life might have been like if she had married him, and he questioned the absence of any ache, of any sense of loss. “I was worried about her and wanted to help her.”

“Why? Was something wrong?”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to her waist. Lifting his gaze, he shook his head. “Not necessarily wrong.” Becky had left him for a man she loved. Hannah still loved Eric, and he had to wonder if that would be worse. She might always love Eric, and where would that leave him? Needing to change the subject, and curious, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Her smile increased. “I loved etching all of the children. I’d never drawn people before, and wasn’t sure if I could.”

“Well, those etchings are amazing. Your grandfather must have been an excellent teacher.”

“Oh, he was. He and Gram are the best.”

“You miss them.”

She nodded and put one hand on her stomach. “I do. Very much.” Her sigh caught on the breeze as they turned the corner to walk toward the blacksmith shop. “I was never scared or worried while at their house.”

“But you were at your own home?”

She nodded.

“I’ve already told you my father wanted a boy instead of me. It was worse that Eric’s family continued to have children. Boys to carry on the family name, and our side of the family didn’t.”

Anger rolled inside Teddy. He couldn’t imagine a father—any man—blaming a child for something that was so out of their control. It was ludicrous. “Being born a girl was not your fault, Hannah. You had nothing to do with it.”

She shook her head solemnly. “It went beyond that. I couldn’t do anything right in his eyes. Including my etchings.”

“Well, I believe your etchings are remarkable. And I’m not the only one. Every time someone inquires about an advertisement, they ask if you’d be able to create a picture to accompany it.”

“They do?”

The shine in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. “Yes, they do. You’ve been very good for our business.” He added a wink, hoping that she understood it was the truth, but he was also teasing her a bit.

She giggled. “I’m glad. It feels good to know I’m helping someone and I do enjoy it very much.”

“Good, because we’d lose customers if you stopped.”

She playfully slapped his arm. “You would not. You’re just teasing.”

He patted the hand she still had on his arm as his mind came full circle back to the list she’d created. If she did marry one of those men, she might become too busy to etch any more pictures. “I’m not teasing,” he admitted. “I’m proud of you, Hannah. Proud of your etchings.”

Her expression grew serious, yet content. “Thank you, Teddy. Thank you very much.”

Rhett and Wyatt shot from around the blacksmith shop and ran toward them. “Are you going to print the picture, Teddy? Are you?” Rhett asked.

Hannah laughed and leaned a bit closer to say, “I warned them you might not be able to, but if you did, they were to keep it a secret.”

He knelt down as the boys arrived and put on a serious expression as he whispered, “I can’t tell you if you’re going to run around shouting about it.”

“We won’t,” Wyatt assured, casting a glare toward his younger brother.

“I was only shouting ’cause it was you,” Rhett said. “I won’t tell anyone else. I promise.”

“Cross-your-heart promise?” Teddy asked.

Both boys nodded and used a fingertip to draw an X over their chests.

“Then, yes, I’m going to print it, and I’ll make sure you each get your very own copy.”

The giggle from Hannah, and the way she squeezed his arm as he stood up, filled him with more happiness than he might ever have known before.

Fiona and Brett walked around the building just then.

An unusual wave of disappointment washed over him as Hannah let go of his arm.

“Thank you for walking me home,” she said. “I hope you enjoy the pie.”

“I will,” Teddy answered, having totally forgotten about the pie. He graced Fiona with a smile before nodding at Brett.

When the women were several steps away Brett said, “I don’t know what she was etching, but she worked all day on it yesterday.”

Still watching her walk away, and knowing the boys were within hearing distance, Teddy replied, “It’s a secret. That’s all I can tell you.”

The boys giggled before they ran off, and a thought shot across Teddy’s mind. He wondered what Brett would say if he said he wanted to marry Hannah. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that thought, but he was still unsure if that was what his heart truly wanted, or if he was just worried about her like he had been about Becky.

“I wasn’t happy about letting Hannah do all this work for your paper in the beginning, but Fiona insisted it would be good for her,” Brett said. “I guess she was right.”

“She enjoys it,” Teddy replied. “And she is also very good at it.”

“Yes, she is,” Brett replied. “She’ll make some man a wonderful wife.”

Teddy buckled a bit inside. He’d thought he’d kept his thoughts buried too deep for anyone to see. Before he could say anything, Brett slapped his shoulder.

“I got a wagon wheel calling my name,” Brett said. “See you later.”

Teddy nodded, yet his eyes were once again on Hannah as she and Fiona disappeared into the house across the field. “See you later,” he said, after swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat at the idea of Hannah making someone a wonderful wife. And that someone not being him.