Daughter of Joy (23 page)

Stand up for Hannah, and for what was right and fair.

“I won’t let him take you back. I promise,” Abby said, her mind made up. “But you must help me. Together, we might be able to best him.”

Hope flared in Hannah’s eyes. She brushed a hank of hair from her face, and nodded. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“For starters, stay there on the ground. It’ll be harder for him to drag you off that way,” Abby whispered, as Brody Gerard drew up before them.

“Get your hands off her.” Gerard’s glare sent shivers down Abby’s spine. “She’s coming back with me.”

Abby shoved to her feet. “No, Hannah’s not,” she said with a quiet but firm emphasis. “She doesn’t want to return to that life, and you’ve no right to take her back to it.”

“Who’s to stop me?” Brody gave a harsh, disparaging laugh. “You?”

“If that’s what it takes, then yes, me. Now, let Hannah be. She’s not going with you, and that’s that.”

Behind Abby, the town hall door opened momentarily then closed again. A wild hope that someone had seen them and gone for help filled her. She squared her shoulders.

Brody grasped Abby’s arm, and jerked her hard up against him. “You’ve always been a bit too uppity for your own good.” A mean, leering smile curled his lips. “Maybe it’s time I took you down a peg or two.”

“Let me go!” She tried to break free. “Take your hands off me!”

Brody pressed her even closer. “Who needs Hannah anyway? She’s fat and awkward with that bastard child of hers. Maybe I’ll just take you instead.”

“Let her go!” Hannah grabbed his leg. “Don’t you
dare
hurt her.”

“Slut!” Brody sank his fingers into Hannah’s hair and wrenched her head back. “Don’t you ever tell me what to do.” His teeth pulled back from his lips in a malevolent sneer. “Unless you’ve got a hankering for another beating.”

“Well, well.” Out of the night a fourth, unexpected, and decidedly male voice intruded. “One woman wasn’t enough for you, was it Gerard?”

Brody’s head whipped around in the direction of the town hall. Abby twisted in his grip, and was just able to catch a glimpse of Conor’s backlit form, standing in the bright light of the open doorway. Behind him, men and women crowded, jostling and shoving for a look.

With a foul curse, Brody Gerard shoved Abby away. “I’ve no beef with her.” He motioned toward Abby. “She was interfering with my bringing back a runaway, that’s all.” None too gently, he pulled Hannah to her feet.

“Was she now?” Conor walked over to them and looked at Abby. “What’s going on here?”

“I stepped outside for a breath of air,” she hurried to explain. “While I was out here, Hannah came running, begging me to help her. She doesn’t want to go back to that vile house where she lives. I told her I’d help her.”

His dark brows lifted in surprise. “You told her what? Abby, have you taken leave of your senses?”

His question momentarily took Abby aback. How, indeed, was she to help Hannah? “Well, I suppose …” She hesitated, her thoughts racing. “I suppose she could stay with me in the bunkhouse, until I figure out what to do next. She certainly can’t go back with the likes of him! After tonight, he’d likely kill her.”

“I doubt that,” Conor countered with dry sarcasm. “I’d wager she’s one of Sadie Fleming’s most valuable girls.”

“Well, I don’t care. She’s near to having her baby, and a whorehouse is no place for that!”

Conor’s lips tightened. “Well, she’s not coming to Culdee Creek. I won’t have a woman like that on my ranch.”

It was all Abby could do not to remind him he had already had several women like that on his ranch. No purpose would be served, though, standing out here in the street, arguing in front of a now smirking Brody Gerard, and what was probably half the town of Grand View. Still, she had given her word to Hannah.

Abby stretched to her full height. “Fine. If Hannah can’t come back with us to Culdee Creek, I’ll stay here with her.”

Conor’s mouth dropped. “What? Where do you propose staying? At Sadie Fleming’s?”

“No, of course not.” Once more, Abby’s thoughts raced. She didn’t know any of the townspeople well enough to impose on their charity, as if any would’ve even been willing to take in Hannah anyway. “I’ll just get a room at Mrs. Lombardy’s rooming house, or stay at the Crown Hotel.”

Behind them, feet began to shuffle restlessly. Someone snickered, and a few unintelligible, whispered comments floated through the air. Fury darkened Conor’s eyes.

“You know I can’t let you stay in town,” he finally said, his voice pitched low. “It wouldn’t be safe.”

“I’d be just as safe as Hannah.”

For the first time, Conor’s glance swung to the blond woman. He looked at her, his gaze severe, uncompromising, contemptuous. Abby swallowed hard, choking back a cry of protest against his overt display of cruelty.

To her credit, Hannah met his scathing assessment with a calm, steady one of her own. She had nothing to lose, Abby realized. Despite the sad events of her past, this was a woman of merit and grace. In that fleeting moment, Abby’s feelings for the girl transformed from those of simple compassion to respect.

“Have it your way,” Conor muttered at last. “She can come to Culdee Creek and stay with you in the bunkhouse. But it’s only temporary. She doesn’t get a free ride, and if I catch her cozying up to any of my men …”

“For pity’s sake, Conor,” Abby exclaimed. “She’s almost nine months pregnant!”

Apparently Conor chose to ignore that last remark. He turned to Brody. “Let the girl go, Gerard. She’s coming with us.”

The man eyed Conor with an ill-disguised fury. “You’re making a big mistake, MacKay. Your reputation’s already shot to blazes in this town.”

“Then it won’t matter much what else I do, will it?” Conor took a step toward Brody. “Now, do as I say.
Let the girl go
.”

“And if I don’t?” Gerard released Hannah. Fists clenched at his sides, he stepped back.

Abby sucked in a frightened breath. She hadn’t thought that the two men might come to blows. But now, as she watched Conor ball his fists and assume a fighting stance with shoulders hunched and legs solidly spread, it appeared as if it might just come to that.

“Well,”—Conor gave a nonchalant shrug—“I reckon it’s past time you finally got the whipping you deserve. Just never thought I’d be doing it for the sake of some soiled dove.”

Brody shot the men beginning to gather around them a nervous, skittering glance. He took another step back, wet his lips, then began to chew at them. “It … it wouldn’t be a fair fight, MacKay. The rest of these men—”

“Wouldn’t interfere,” Conor cut him off silkily. “Remember, my reputation’s shot to blazes in Grand View. I’m sure they really don’t care who beats up who.”

“Easy for you to say.” Brody kept on backing up until he was free of the loose circle that had formed around them. “Some other time, MacKay.”

“Yeah,” Conor muttered as he watched Brody Gerard turn and hightail it down another alley. “So you keep saying.”

Abby turned and took Hannah by the arm. “I told you I wouldn’t let him take you.” She smiled down at the girl.

Hannah’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, thank you. Thank you!” Sobbing as if her heart would break, she flung herself into Abby’s arms.

As she clasped Hannah to her, Abby’s gaze locked with Conor’s. She managed a bright if tremulous smile.

He didn’t smile back.

17

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.

Ecclesiastes 3:3

By the time they returned to Culdee Creek that night, Hannah was exhausted. She was still sound asleep the next morning when Abby arose. After dressing quietly, Abby tiptoed from the bunkhouse. Before she was halfway to the back door of the main house, however, Devlin MacKay hailed her.

She smiled in greeting. “Good morning, Devlin. How’s Mary—”

“Mary’s fine,” he cut her off tersely. “This isn’t about Mary anyway.” He scowled. “I heard you brought back one of Sadie Fleming’s girls last night.”

“Yes,” Abby replied slowly, gathering from his tone of voice and dark expression that Devlin was not pleased with the news. “She’s pregnant, and no longer wishes to remain in Mrs. Fleming’s employ.”

“Why, in heaven’s name, did you bring her back here? She’s a prostitute, Abby. There are young men working on Culdee Creek who’ll be susceptible to her advances, and I certainly don’t want my children exposed to the likes of her.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “And what about Beth? Did you even stop to think about her?”

Abby had not, she hated to admit. In the heat of the moment last night, all she had thought about was Hannah. She had not thought of the possible impact on anyone else.

“I confess I didn’t consider the children.” She hung her head in shame. “Perhaps I was wrong. But the fact remains that if the adults on Culdee Creek deal with Hannah in a mature, Christian way, the children—”

Devlin gasped and his face went ashen. “Did you say her name is Hannah?”

Abby stared up at him in surprise. “Yes, I did. She’s very pretty, with beautiful light blond hair. She’s about eighteen or so.”

With a slow, unsteady motion, Devlin shoved his hand through his hair and closed his eyes.

A sick realization filled Abby. There was obviously more than one reason Devlin MacKay didn’t want a fallen woman at Culdee Creek, and the worst reason of all had just materialized. Hannah must be the woman Devlin had called on at Sadie Fleming’s.

The enormity of what she had done struck Abby with the force of a blow. Ella … dear God, what would this do to Ella?

Anger swelled in her. It was all Devlin’s fault, and now his sins were coming home to roost. For an instant, she couldn’t hide the reproach she knew must be in her eyes.

Then, as quickly as she recognized how revealing such an action must be, Abby averted her gaze. No purpose was served in adding to the problem. What was private between him and his wife should remain that way.

“Though you may think Hannah’s coming to Culdee Creek is bad,” Abby forced herself to say, “perhaps the Lord’s hand is in this. If we can help her turn back to God and the life of a good woman, not only she, but her unborn child might be saved. Isn’t that worth the risk, Devlin?”

Furiously, he shook his head. “No. Never.” His glance hardened, turned angry. “I want her gone, Abby. Gone today.”

She stared up at him for a long moment. “I don’t think that’s the Christian thing to do,” she said finally. “To cast out a woman who has nowhere else to go, a woman ready to birth … Well, it wouldn’t be right.”

“Christian!” Devlin snarled, his hands clenched at his sides. “I’m sick to death of hearing that word! All it has done is make everything worse!”

Compassion filled her. Devlin wasn’t a heartless man. He was just lost, and so very, very anguished.

Abby smiled in gentle understanding. “It may seem so right now,” she said, “but the Lord’s ways aren’t always immediately clear to us. Yet, even in our darkness we must try to do good however we can, and trust that God will make it right.”

Devlin gave a harsh laugh. “Yeah, you just go ahead and trust, Abby. Me, I don’t plan to wait until the Lord gets around to making it right.” He turned on his heel and stalked away.

“What are you going to do?” A cold fear clutched at Abby’s heart. “Devlin, what are you going to do?”

“For starters,” he tossed over his shoulder, “I’m going to have a talk with Conor. After that,”—he shrugged—“who knows?”

“I want to thank you for sharing your bed with me last night, Mrs. Stanton,” Hannah murmured shyly, as she helped Abby fold a pile of freshly laundered sheets and lady’s undergarments that afternoon. “It was very kind.”

Abby glanced up and smiled. “I couldn’t have a mother-to-be sleeping on the hard floor, could I? I still remember how uncomfortable it got, that last month before I birthed my son.”

Hannah blushed, and hung her head. “Still …”

“Still nothing.” She replaced the sachet of dried lavender atop the petticoats, then shoved the new dresser drawer closed and walked over to the young woman. Abby took her hand. “Listen to me, Hannah. The past is over. You don’t have to speak of it unless
you
need or want to.”

The girl looked up, a sad smile on her lips. “Maybe not for you, ma’am, but there are plenty of folk who won’t ever let me forget what I did, and was.”

Abby gave Hannah’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “That may well be. But those folk are either too blinded by their own faults or too overcome with guilt at their part in helping bring you to this state. Yet you must still forgive them. It’s the only way to truly gain the Lord’s forgiveness. That, of course,” Abby added, “and a deep and lasting repentance.”

“I don’t know much about God, ma’am. Leastwise not of the kind of God like you said loves me, that time we met in Mr. Gates’s store.” She sighed, and shook her head. “I never knew of God, not those years I took care of my sick mama, or when she died and I was sent to that orphanage. And there certainly didn’t seem to be any God looking after me when I finally ran away at fifteen and ended up in a brothel after a man tricked me with promises of food and a warm place to sleep.”

As she listened in growing horror, Abby’s stomach began to twist into knots. There was no comment she could make, though, to such a tragic story.

“I tried to run away from that brothel,” Hannah continued, “but each time the madam’s bodyguards would find me and bring me back to a terrible beating. After a while, I gave up trying. Besides, it didn’t seem to matter much anymore if there was a God. I figured He didn’t care for me anyway, leastwise not after what I’d become.” She managed a teary-eyed smile. “But I never forgot your kind words that day. I’ve clutched them to me ever since.

“It was your words, ma’am”—Hannah touched her belly with something akin to loving reverence—“and the precious baby growing inside me that made me decide to try once more to run away.”

Abby’s throat went tight. “I’m glad to hear that my words gave you some comfort. I truly meant them.”

A warm certitude glowed in the girl’s eyes. “I know that, ma’am. I don’t know how I knew it, but I did. That’s why, when I saw you ride into town last night, I dared come to you. If anybody would’ve helped me, I knew it would be you.”

Guilt pricked at Abby. If only Hannah knew how close she had been to turning her back on her. But she had not, thank the Lord. She had not then, and she would not in the difficult days and weeks ahead. She only hoped Ella would be more tolerant and understanding than her husband.

“I thank you for your faith in me.” Abby released her hand and, walking back to the pile of laundry, pulled out her chemises and underdrawers. “Now,” she urged as she began to fold the garments, “tell me, when is your baby due?”

“Most any day now, I reckon.”

Abby frowned. If that was the case, she had a lot to get prepared, and soon. There were clean rags and extra sheets to gather, some sort of a cradle to fashion if one could not be found on the ranch, and Ella to convince to help her with the delivery until Doc Childress could be fetched. Abby only hoped Devlin would not forbid Ella from any interaction with Hannah.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we?” she asked brightly. “Good thing Conor had this rebuilt bunkhouse sectioned off into a main room and two smaller backrooms. We can turn my sewing room into a private room for you and the baby.”

Footsteps sounded on the wooden porch. Knuckles rapped on the stout portal. Abby quickly put away the last of her undergarments and hurried to the door.

Conor stood there, a scowl on his face. “I need to talk with you, Abby. Now, if you please, in the main house.”

Of late, Abby observed wryly, there were a passel of menfolk walking around with scowling faces. If she were a betting woman, she’d lay odds it had to do with Hannah. She turned to the younger woman. “I’ll be back shortly. Don’t wear yourself out now. My new rocker is mighty comfortable on a sore back.”

At that moment in the very act of putting her hand to her back, Hannah gave a soft laugh. Abby smiled, then turned, closed the door, and followed Conor through the backyard to the main house. As they walked along, Abby took note of the clear blue sky, full of clouds scudding along in the blustering spring winds, and the bright sunshine. In the windbreak of the house, it felt almost warm.

Patches of bright green grass poked through the winter brown turf. In a long-neglected flowerbed lining the base of the back porch, tiny, grape-like clusters of purple muscari and yellow and white crocuses were just now beginning to bloom. Abby made a mental note to see if she could beg some flower seeds from the ladies of the Episcopal Church the next time she was in town. A pretty, summer flower garden did wonders for the soul.

Conor paused at the back door and held it open. Wordlessly, Abby walked inside. After closing the door behind them, he motioned for her to take a seat at the table.

“Want a cup of coffee?” He walked to the cupboard.

“No, not just yet.” Abby began to trace nervous little circles on the checkered tablecloth. Then, catching herself, she clasped her hands firmly before her.

At long last, Conor took a seat across from her. “It’s about Hannah,” he said without any preliminaries, stirring two spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. “I know you’re not going to like this, Abby, but on further consideration I’ve decided it isn’t wise to allow her to stay.”

“Not even until after her baby’s born?”

“No.” Conor gave a sharp shake of his head. “Not even until then. There’s a place in the Springs that might take her—”

Something snapped in Abby. “So, just because Devlin can’t live with a physical reminder of his transgressions,” she blurted out angrily without thinking, “Hannah has to slink away like some stray dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Yet who is the greater sinner in this? Devlin who broke his holy vows, or Hannah, who was forced into a horrible life against her will?”

The color drained from Conor’s face. “You … you know about Devlin and Hannah then? How? Ella?”

Dear Lord, what have I done? Abby thought with an anguished surge of remorse.
What have I done?

“Yes,” she forced herself to reply, even as she quailed beneath Conor’s now angry, relentless glare. “Ella told me, though of course she doesn’t realize that it was specifically Hannah. By his reaction this morning, Devlin gave himself away. All Ella knows is Devlin paid Sadie Fleming’s several visits this fall.”

“Blast it! Now the fat’s really in the fire.” Conor groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“Not necessarily.” Abby’s thoughts raced, trying to find a solution to the ever-worsening dilemma. “You don’t
have
to tell Devlin I know, and Devlin doesn’t
have
to tell Ella about Hannah.”

“And what about Hannah? Can we trust her to keep quiet?”

Abby sighed. “I imagine she’s not going to do anything to jeopardize her stay here.”

His jaw set, his mind apparently made, Conor looked up. “Hannah has to leave, and you know it, Abby. There’s just no getting around it.”

“So, she’s never to have a chance.” A deep, despairing sadness flooded Abby. “Is that it, Conor?”

He rolled his eyes, and expelled a frustrated breath. “Why does it have to fall on me and you to give her a chance? Tell me what makes us suddenly the saviors of soiled doves?”

“Because one of those doves begged us to help, that’s why.” She leaned on the table, her glance imploring. “Don’t make me turn her away, Conor. It would break my heart.”

“Do you realize you’re placing me square in the middle with this, between you and Devlin, and possibly Ella, too? Do you know the trouble that may come from this?”