Before the Larkspur Blooms (18 page)

It was time. He needed to do this today. He’d been avoiding the truth for too long.

First things first. Second row, three graves down. He moved slowly. Stopped. Levi Smith. The grave was old. Thom stood there, the sun warming his back. Born 1857. Died 1873. He’d been here before. The day they’d buried Levi and again on the day he had left town.

Thom turned, headed to the back of the cemetery, knowing that was the Irish section, as well as the Polish and German. His steps, muted by the grass-covered earth, took him between the gravestones and alongside a tree where small birds hopped between the branches. Plain wooden crosses, as well as large stone markers, filled his view. Some with stories of the deceased chiseled carefully to commemorate the memory of the loved one. He
came upon Caleb’s grave next to Caleb’s father and mother. No weeds grew around the headstones. Hannah and Markus must tend to them often.
Caleb dead, too.
It was still so unbelievable.

Moving on, he crossed the wooden bridge spanning the dry creek bed, remembering how it would fill as soon as the fall rains hit. On the other side, a small marker noted he was on the hallowed ground of the immigrants of Logan Meadows.

Only a handful of graves. He stopped, unsure he was ready to face the reality of what Sheriff Preston had told him only six days ago. Six days that felt like an eternity.

Katherine Abby Murphy Donovan.

A fistful of wilted flowers adorned the base of her headstone, and the grave was tended just as lovingly as was Caleb’s family.
Hannah.
A burning sensation pressed on the back of his eyes. He looked away.

On the left side of his mother’s grave was
Roland Aeary Donovan
, and on the other,
Loughlan Donal Donovan
.

He removed his hat. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I never should have left. Never should have gotten into that fight with Levi. You told me, Pa, nothing was worth fighting over. You taught me to use my brains and not my fists.”

He closed his mouth. There was nothing he could say. There were no words deep enough to express his sorrow. If only he could go back. Do everything over.

“Thom?”

His heart lurched. The sound of Hannah’s soft whisper caressing his name pulled him from this nightmare, promising love, laughter—life. Oh, how he wished things were different, that he’d never run from his pain, setting the course of his life. If only he and Hannah could find each other now. Pick up where they’d left off. Become the couple they were meant to be. He wiped his eyes again, reining in his emotions before he turned to see her waiting on the bridge. He waved her over.

“I saw you walking across the hill,” she said softly as she approached. “I knew it would be difficult for you to see the graves. Do you want me to leave?”

He shook his head.

“If you’re sure you don’t mind my—”

He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Her body melded to his. Warm, comforting. Her arms went around him, a lifeline, keeping him safe. She turned her head and kissed his cheek, his jaw. To know that she was here, that she loved him and wanted to be part of his life, meant a lot. Warring emotions jumbled up inside. He longed to rage against the injustice of all the lost years. The small orb of metal at the base of his skull dictating his actions. His parents and brother planted here in the ground like a gruesome new crop.

Unable to hold it off, a burning-hot sob fought its way from a grief so deep, it frightened him. Another followed. Then another. And another.

Hannah’s calming touch moved up and down his back. She did not have to voice a word for him to know exactly what her touch was saying. Several minutes passed. He stilled. They parted, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

She reached up and brushed his hair off his forehead, studying his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to come home to this.”

“I keep thinking about what they went through,” he said, glancing at the graves. “It’s difficult for me to believe. The last conversation was a fight with Pa the night I left. He couldn’t understand. Why I was leaving, I mean.”

She put her hand on his arm, and he studied her delicate fingers for several long moments.

“Why
did
you leave, Thom? The judge ruled Levi’s death an accident. You weren’t in trouble with the law.”

Thom looked at the town, trying to make the jumbled mess make sense. People were moving about on the street, going about their day. He could see the side of the Red Rooster from his vantage
point on the hill. “It’s hard to explain, Hannah. I couldn’t bear the pain on my father’s face another minute. I was responsible. I’d killed a boy. Taken a life recklessly. I’d disappointed my pa and let him down. Hell, I’d crushed his soul, if I’m being honest with myself. And what about Levi?”

“What about Levi?” Anger laced her voice and her eyes were hard. “
He
was the one who drew the knife. Just what did you think he was going to do with it? Whittle you a present?”

“What happened to his family?” Thom remembered Levi’s mother, totally crushed, weeping by his grave.

“They moved away.”

“Hannah.”

“No, Thom, listen to me. You were only a boy. I’m sorry Levi died that day—I’ll be the first one to say it. But you’re not to blame. You did not kill him. He
fell
onto his
own
knife.” She grasped his arm and gave it a listen-to-me shake. “I can’t say that I understand why your pa didn’t stand by you more, if you say he didn’t. We don’t know what shapes others into who they are. You have to let this go.”

All he could do was listen. He’d run out of words.

“Life happens, Thom. As bad as it was for Levi to die, there are more tragic things, I think. A life wasted. Walking through each day trying to pay back something that wasn’t your fault. The day Caleb died, I promised myself I’d never spend a day in regret over anything. Never put off something that’s important to me. Never leave a good word unsaid.” She hesitated. “I’ll tell you something I’ve never shared with anyone. The day Caleb died, I went over to the restaurant when the cook we had summoned me for some problem, I can’t even remember what it was now. I hadn’t realized Caleb was that sick. None of us did. He died alone. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him good-bye. Or that I was carrying his child. I’d had suspicions, but I planned to wait until he felt better. Thom, don’t waste a moment of your life. That moment could be your last.”

It would be so easy to pull her back into his arms. To taste her lips, feel her warmth, all the things he’d dreamed about so often in his prison cell. It had been the memory of Hannah Brown that had pulled him through day and night. It was Hannah with her laughing eyes and charming smile.

She tipped her head. “What’re you thinking?”

“Just trying to figure you out.” She didn’t know how close she was to the truth of the matter. That bullet could put him down now, right here, this instant. If only he didn’t have that piece of metal controlling his life. There were so many
if onlys
he didn’t want to think about them anymore. Still, he’d not set Hannah up for more hurt and misery. She had Markus to consider, as well as herself.

She shrugged and walked toward a rustic bench at the edge of the cemetery, where grassland met graves. She sat, then gave him a smile knowing full well he’d follow.

“I need to get back to the livery,” he said, now standing in front of her like a dolt. “I told Win I’d only be gone for a little while.”

She patted the spot next to her. “Sit for just a moment.”

He shook his head. “I really need to get back.”

A flicker of hurt crossed her eyes before she looked away. She stood and straightened her dress. “All those years locked up in a cell couldn’t have been easy. Then to come home and find your family dead or gone is the most heartbreaking thing in the world. I just want you to know that I’ll always be here for you, Thom. And I’ll keep being here for you until you see just how much happiness there can still be in your life and just how much you still have to lose.” Then, without another word, Hannah turned and started down the path toward town.

Jessie was waiting in front of the El Dorado Hotel when she saw Hannah coming down the hill. She waved. “Perfect timing,” she
called, holding Sarah by the hand. Dr. Thorn had checked Sarah’s throat and said everything looked completely normal. Phantom pains.
Fit as a fiddle
, he’d said, much to Jessie’s relief. “I was just coming in for a quick visit and a cup of tea. Do you have a moment? I want to invite you and Markus to a picnic I’m planning.”

Hannah smiled warmly, contradicting the shadow of sadness in her eyes. “Sarah, where have you left that little brother of yours?” She squatted, getting eye to eye with Sarah.

Sarah blushed. “Gabe is showing him the horses.” She pointed to several tied in front of the bank. “So Ma and me can get things done.”

Hannah looked up at Jessie and winked. “I see. Sometimes little hands and feet make that difficult, don’t they?”

Sarah nodded, agreeing emphatically. “’Specially when he cries and throws a fit.”

Jessie couldn’t stop her giggle. “So true. Shane is very good at making his needs known. He’s not shy at all.” She glanced around. “Markus doesn’t happen to be here, does he? Sarah would like to say hello.”

“He’s not. His uncle Dwight took him fishing today. They’re spending fella time together.” Sarah scrunched her face, and Hannah laughed. “We can have fun, too. Come on. Let’s find something delectable to go along with our tea.”

Jessie stepped into the near-vacant dining room. “Where is everyone? Feels pretty quiet in here.”

“Oh, it’s just one of those turtle days. Every restaurant has them now and then. Follow me. We’ll visit in here.” Hannah preceded them into the kitchen, where Susanna was mixing up some sort of batter.

Jessie pulled out a chair at the small break table and seated Sarah, hoping beyond hope that Hannah’s teasing words were true. They watched as Hannah set about warming water and opening a very interesting-looking crock. Sarah’s eyes lit up when she began arranging delicious-looking cookies onto a plate.

“There now,” Hannah said, setting cups filled with hot tea onto the table along with the cookies.

Sarah quickly picked one up. “Thank you, Mrs. Hoskins.”

“You’re very welcome. Such nice manners on this young lady.”

The letter in Jessie’s bag made it hard to return Hannah’s smile. She’d been in a fog since leaving the mercantile. She only nodded.

“I’ll bet she’s anxious to start school in the fall.”

Jessie cup rattled. “She’s not ready for school!” Could she bear to let Sarah out of her sight for a whole day? What if someone were to find her, take her, when Jessie wasn’t there to stop them?

Hannah’s head whipped around. “What are you talking about? Of course she is. She knows far more than most for their first year.”

“I don’t know.” Jessie hesitated. “I’m thinking about keeping her home another year.” At her remark, Sarah’s face fell, and Jessie wanted to take it back—but couldn’t. She’d do anything to keep her little girl safe.

“Jessie, I don’t agree. I think—”

Jessie laughed and shook her head, hoping she sounded carefree. “Forgive me, Hannah, but it’s time to go.” She finished her tea and wiped her mouth, then set her napkin on the tabletop. “We still have a lot to accomplish before we start back to the ranch, don’t we, Sarah?” She stood, feeling like the worst of friends. Hannah looked confused as she helped Sarah up.

“Jessie?”

“Don’t forget the picnic. It’s going to be a fun day,” Jessie called, hurrying out the door.

T
he feel of Hannah’s body pressed up against his was still on his mind as Thom hustled into the stall and haltered Bertie, the large half-Percheron draft mare. Her hefty feet clomped as he led her down the center passageway, then turned her out into the small pasture out back. She ambled off toward Max and the tiny bison heifer.

Three more stalls. If he didn’t hurry, he’d get a scolding from Mrs. Hollyhock for being late. Supper was on the table at five twenty-five and not a minute later.