Grace moved next to her and spoke softly. “Are you mad at Mr. Branson because you feel he manipulated you?”
Hannah’s laugh sounded dry. “I don’t feel that. I know that. You don’t know Nathan like I do. He’s smart—brilliant. He’s strategic. He comes from old money, but that money had all been depleted. So, while his family name might be respectable, it wasn’t worth anything. Nathan changed all that.”
Grace cocked her head. “You respect him. I can tell from your tone.”
“It’s hard not to.” She shrugged. “I didn’t think much of it before I came here. But being here has changed me. I’m not the same person I was.”
“None of us are.”
That was true. They’d all changed in some way since they’d first met, but none more than her. She was ashamed to admit it, but she’d been a snob when they’d first arrived. “I know. But what I’m saying is that after being here, I respect him so much more. I’d always had negative feelings toward him because he was my brother’s friend.”
“And your brother isn’t a good person.” It wasn’t a question.
“No. He’s not. And the men he runs with aren’t either. I thought Nathan was the same. And to hear that everything I thought about him was wrong is…”
“Rattling?”
“Yes! I don’t know what to think, how to feel, or how to react. What am I supposed to say? Thank you?” Her shoulder’s fell. “I just don’t understand why he did it all.”
“Don’t you?” Grace’s brows rose. “As an outside observer, I have to tell you, it’s fairly obvious.”
Hannah didn’t appreciate Grace’s teasing. “It isn’t that simple.”
Grace shrugged. “He cares for you, Hannah.”
“But why?” She couldn’t stop frustration from tinging her voice. “We’ve only seen each other in passing. We’re lukewarm acquaintances, at best.”
“Isn’t it possible he wanted more than that?”
Hannah shook her head, refusing to believe it, but then she stopped. He’d kissed her. He’d made it clear he’d done it all for her. It wasn’t just possible—it was likely.
So why couldn’t she accept it? “I don’t know. Maybe. But what am I supposed to do about it?”
Grace cleared her throat. “Hannah, it’s none of my business, but did he…perhaps…kiss you?”
Heat rushed to Hannah’s cheeks. She didn’t need to admit to it. Grace could see he had.
“Would it be so terrible to give him a chance?”
Her one big objection to him was that he was friends with her brother, and therefore, a terrible person. But now that she knew he wasn’t? It was possible something could grow between them. She blew out a breath, sinking into a nearby chair. “It’s not that it would be terrible. But what good could come of it? Even if things worked out, I know him. He isn’t like his partners. He would never be happy here.”
“And that’s what you want? To stay here?”
“I don’t know. Truly, I don’t know what I want. I thought for sure that I would only be here a few months, but then things changed. Especially now, with my studio. I like what I’m doing. For the first time in my life, I’m content. The thought of going back home, of returning to the society that treated me so cruelly, of having to put on a pleasant smile and speak with people who stood by and watched my downfall—none of it sounds remotely appealing.”
“Then that answers the question,” Grace said easily.
“It does?”
“Yes. You might not know what you want, but you know what you don’t want.”
Her friend made it sound so easy, but it was so much more complicated than that. Wasn’t it? “You’re right.” The more she thought about it, the calmer she became.
She would always be grateful to Nathan. He’d protected her when no one else had. He’d given her this opportunity, had changed her life.
What feelings he thought he had for her would fade. He would return east and find someone else. And she would…she wasn’t certain. But she’d be here. “I guess it is that simple. I’ll see him in passing for the short time he’s here, and then he’ll be on his way. In all likelihood, I’ll never see him again.”
“That’s probably true.”
While she felt more confident now, a part of her didn’t feel settled. But this would work. This was the right choice for her. She had to believe that and move forward.
Nathan wasn’t for her.
Chapter 8
The next day, Hannah felt even more confident in her decision. She’d thought it over the entire night, tossing and turning in bed until she’d fully accepted it. And now that she’d made up her mind, she was ready to focus on other things.
She had another commission for a painting, and she planned on having the sketching portion of it finished today. She wasn’t naturally an early riser, but she’d come to appreciate having extra hours of daylight to work.
The town was already bustling with activity when she arrived at her studio, and she quickly donned her work apron and prepared her charcoal for sketching. She could see the composition so clearly in her mind that she sketched directly on the canvas, drawing bold, curved lines. It would look simple to the casual observer, but this piece would be a stretch of her skills.
She wasn’t sure how much time had gone by when the front door to her studio opened, but the sun was now high in the sky. “Just a minute.”
She narrowed her eyes at the finished sketch, checking for flaws, but couldn’t find any. Pleased, she sighed, and turned toward her customer—
“Nathan, what are you doing here?” Her heart leaped in her throat.
The smile he gave her had her stomach fluttering. “So, I see we’re back to Nathan. I’ll take that as a good sign.”
She closed her eyes, realizing her error. Finally, she looked at him directly, reminding herself of the conclusion she’d come to. “It was a slip, Mr. Branson. Forgive me.”
His eyes crinkled as his smile grew. Finally, he took pity on her and looked toward her painting. “Is this for pleasure or commission?”
She shifted from foot to foot. She still wasn’t completely comfortable with others studying her art. “Commission.”
He considered it a moment longer. “They’re going to be very pleased once it’s done.”
A small smile came to her lips. She couldn’t help it. “Thank you. I think so too.” She stepped away from the easel, hoping to draw his attention away from her work. “Now, is there something I can help you with? Your painting won’t be ready for several more days,” she reminded him.
“I’m aware. But I’m not here for the painting.”
“No?” She tried to sound unaffected by his arrival. But all she could do was remember how it felt to be in his arms—and her body craved the experience again. She cleared her throat. “If not that, then are you wanting another piece? Something custom, perhaps?”
He stepped forward with an intent look in his eye, but she retreated. He stopped, cocked his head, and she could see the gears turning in his brain. “I was hoping to take you for a drive. I’m not familiar with the area, but I’d like to see more.”
She was already shaking her head before he finished. “I apologize, but I am unavailable. I could, however, arrange for someone else to take you.”
A gleam entered his eye, and she knew he’d taken her refusal as a challenge of wills. That was the last thing she’d wanted to do. She held up her hands then, already tired of fencing with him. “Listen, Mr. Branson. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. If I had stayed with my brother, things would have gone poorly for me, and I thank you for your protection. I was in need then, but I am no longer. I can look after myself now.”
He gave her a long look. “I see that,” he said softly. “You are a capable woman, Hannah. I’m glad you’ve realized it.”
She flushed but refused to let herself be flustered. “I was surprised yesterday, caught off guard by what you said. I’ve since thought on the matter, and I’ve de
termined that it’s for the best if we don’t further our acquaintance.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I mean you no disrespect,” she said quickly, not wanting him to think she was ungrateful. “But any further attachment between us would be unwise.”
“And why is that?”
“I think that’s fairly obvious.” She didn’t want to elaborate.
“Perhaps. Though I still need you to tell me why you think it’s a bad idea.”
She shifted uncomfortably then stilled herself. She wasn’t going to feel awkward about this. “Beyond our complicated history, this is where I live now. I have no desire to return east.”
His lips parted in surprise. There, she’d shocked him. At least he’d lost some of his smooth exterior. “You’d rather stay here?”
She nodded. It was crazy, but it was the truth.
“Why?” he asked.
The genuine curiosity in his voice had her answering honestly. Had he sounded condescending in any way, she would have dismissed him. “To put it simply, this is my home. My friends are here. My work is here. I’ve built something that I’m proud of. If I returned east, I’d lose it all. And what would I have in return? A society which treated me poorly? People who would only pretend they’re my friends?” She shook her head softly. “Promise Creek might not have the finest things the world has to offer, but it has everything I need.”
He tapped his chin as he considered her. “If you returned married, everything would be different.”
Her heart knocked in her chest. He couldn’t possibly want to marry her, could he? But instead of showing how much this turn in the conversation rattled her, she shrugged. “Would it? The people there would still be the same. I might have a different standing, but that’s not enough for me. None of those people care for me anyway. Everything is fake.”
She thought he’d argue with her, but instead, he nodded. “I agree. It’s a failing of our society, but it is possible to build true friendships.”
“Your society,” she stressed. “I don’t belong to it any longer. And I have no desire to.”
He cocked his head. “I can see we won’t agree on this, but I value your opinion.”
“But you’re hoping to change it?”
His smile spread slowly. “Of course.”
She snorted, amused, then shook her head. “I wish you luck, but it’s never going to happen.”
“We’ll see. Why don’t I start with changing your mind about the drive?”
She felt a part of herself weakening. She did want to spend more time with him, but it was foolish. Nothing could come of it except a broken heart. She shook her head softly. “I’m sorry. I still don’t think it’s a good idea. Plus, even if I wanted to, I have work to do.” She gestured back to the easel, and his eyes looked at the charcoal sketch.
“I understand. It never hurts to ask.” He put his hat back on his head as if he wasn’t ruffled by her second denial. He smiled at her, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “Perhaps another time. Goodbye, Miss Pierce.”
She lowered her head slightly. “Goodbye, Mr. Branson.”
She watched him leave, ignoring the pain in her heart. No matter what she told him, a part of her still wanted to be with him. It was foolish and would only end in her pain, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
So she threw herself back into her work, hoping that it would settle her heart. This was enough. It had to be. Because even if Nathan wanted something more between them, Hannah knew it would never work.
Nathan wasn’t one to give up. It was the whole reason he’d made it this far in life. Hannah might’ve rejected a ride with him the other day, but he wasn’t discouraged. Anything worth pursuing took effort. His education, his position, his wealth—all had come with great personal sacrifice and hard work. This would be no different.
Hannah was worth all of it.
He parked his rented wagon in front of her shop, settling the horses before walking onto the boardwalk.
She was a creature of habit. She arrived at her studio around the same time each morning and left about the same time every evening. It was something he respected about her. Not everyone had that kind of discipline.
And in this instance, it made things easier for him. Gripping the handle, he pushed the front door open, sending the door chimes ringing. When Hannah glanced over, he tipped his hat. “Good morning.”
She wiped paint from her hand onto her apron, watching him warily. “Good morning.”
Wanting to put her at ease, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms loosely. “I take it you’re not able to go on a ride with me today?”
As he’d expected, she shook her head. “No. I’m in the middle of something.”
Her pallet was full of mixed paints, and she was nowhere near done from the look of it. “I see that. Well, this shouldn’t take too much of your time.”
She looked confused as he crooked his finger at her. “I have something for you outside.”
“What is it?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“Maybe I don’t like surprises.”
He grinned. He knew that wasn’t true. “Oh, I think you do.”
She pressed her lips together, but he noticed she didn’t argue the point. “I don’t have much time.”
He held up his hands. “This should only take a minute.”
Finally agreeing, she set down her pallet and brush. “If I’m away too long, the paint will dry.” She wiped her hands on her apron.
“I won’t keep you long.” He gestured for her to lead. “I was disappointed you weren’t able to go for a drive with me, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”
She glanced curiously at him over her shoulder, but he could tell she had no idea what he was talking about.
He ushered her out, and two steps onto the boardwalk, she jerked to stop. “What is this?”
He followed her gaze to the cart overflowing with wildflowers. “I told you. I thought I’d bring it to you.”
“You picked all of these?” She glanced over the multicolored, jewel-toned blossoms. She turned toward him. “Why?”
His eyes locked with hers. “To let you know I was thinking of you.”
Her eyes softened, and her gaze flicked to his lips. With just that look, his body filled with heat. He wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her again, and show her how he felt about her.
“You really picked them all?”
He nodded slowly. “If it pleases you, I’ll get you even more.” And he would. He wouldn’t hesitate. “I’ll leave the wagon here until you decide what you want to do.”
She laughed happily. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with these ones.”
“Place them in your studio and your house. Make a crown. Burn them even. I don’t care, as long as it pleases you.”
“Oh, I’m definitely not going to burn them.” A few of the older women passing by looked at the wagon curiously. “Good morning,” she called out to them. “Would you like to take some flowers with you? This gentleman gave them to me, but I can’t possibly enjoy them all.”
Nathan noticed the women’s clothes weren’t made of expensive material and they’d seen far too many washings. When the women looked at him, he nodded encouragingly. “It might have been a little over the top.” He gestured to the wagon. “Please, help yourselves to a bouquet.”
Smiling, they gathered large handfuls that would make beautiful arrangements, giving their thanks before they went on their way.
Hannah leaned against one of the pillars on the boardwalk and looked at him. “You’ve surprised me.”
“Have I?” He loved seeing her like this. Relaxed, happy, playful. He could have never imagined it back home. “And how’s that?”
“Flower picking? I wouldn’t have thought it was your style.”
“Then what did you imagine I’d do?”
“I don’t know. Hire someone to do it? Find a florist and have the
m pick something.”
He cleared his throat. She’d pegged him exactly. “It’s probably what I would have done back home. I certainly wouldn’t have hunted down a field and filled a cart with wildflowers.”
“This place changes people like us.”
She’d said the same thing before, but for the first time, he understood it. This place had changed her, and he was already starting to notice those same changes in himself. “I can see that now.”
“So now you know why I don’t want to go back. I like it here.”
He refused to either agree or disagree. If he acknowledged her point, it was like admitting defeat. And he wasn’t ready to give up yet. “I heard there’s a festival of some kind in a few days. Are you going?”
She smiled, and he could tell she knew he was changing the subject. But instead of rubbing it in, she nodded. “Yes. A spring festival. Everyone is ready to celebrate and have some fun after the long winter.”
“Are you saying there’s no fun to be had in winter?” he teased.
“Not really.” She laughed. “There was a Christmas party at the hotel, and that was entertaining. But the parties are limited because there’s not enough indoor space for everyone to gather.”
That made sense. Parties still raged in the east regardless of the time of year. Although he wasn’t a fan of large gatherings, he thought he might go a little mad if he was shut in his home for months at a time. “How did you survive?” he asked honestly.
She laughed then in a burst of giggles. “It’s not that bad, Nathan. Honestly, it was kind of nice. I always got so tired of the endless parties back home.”
She’d slipped again and called him by his first name. It was progress, and he wanted even more. “What is the festival like?”
Her eyes twinkled. “I think I’ll just let it be a surprise for you. Besides, I haven’t been to the spring festival before. I imagine they’re all alike, though.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Western Desire Page 5