Hannah's Blessing

by Collette Scott

  Devlan opened his eyes wearily and reached for the alarm clock. Snow? On Christmas? How often did that happen? The East Coast never had snowstorms like that this early in the season, let alone on Christmas. Why, he could count the amount of times he had heard of white Christmases in New York.

  He slipped from between the sheets and let out a loud yawn. Another night of not sleeping well had passed, and he was growing more and more exhausted with his lifestyle. The lack of sleep and the stress of the last couple of weeks were beginning to wear on him. More than ever, he wanted to get home. The nights were lonely and cold without Diana in his arms. They spooned well together, and he missed sleeping with his face pressed into her hair. Not for the first time, he mentally shook himself for sounding like a lovesick fool. However, he could not help but wonder if Diana felt the same loneliness he was suffering from. He wanted to know.

  Taking a long hot shower helped to soothe his tensed muscles and refresh his tired bones. Still, his mind was filled with thoughts of Diana and Hannah and how they were faring in his absence.

  “Mike, get up,” Devlan called to the closed door down the narrow hallway.

  From the other side of the thick oak door he heard a muffled curse and nodded in satisfaction. Mike too, for all his bluster, was just as anxious to get back to Los Angeles. It seemed they both were growing weary of three hours of sleep a night and the chill of the east coast winter.

  Marie, the French woman who maintained the apartment for him while he was in California, had already set coffee to brew and had fresh pastries laid out in the dining room for him. He finished buttoning his shirt and tucked it into his slacks, his movements quick and smooth. As he pulled out the chair, Marie appeared carrying his coffee and the daily newspaper.

  “What’s this about snow?” he asked in greeting.

  “Ooh, sir, a bad storm.”

  Devlan’s dark brows raised over his blue eyes. “Bad? Any word on the airports?”

  Marie tucked a piece of her graying hair back under the starched white cap she wore. “I don’t know, Mr. Doyle. Do you want me to call someone?”

  “No,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll check on it myself. Thank you, Marie.”

  Marie bowed out of the room, leaving Devlan with a worried frown on his face. He reached for the remote on a table beside him and pressed the power button. Part of the wood paneling noiselessly turned in, revealing a full entertainment center. As Devlan flipped on the news, Mike appeared freshly showered and still scowling.

  “I need coffee,” he muttered.

  “Get your coffee, and then call TJ and find out if he can fly us out today. Maybe before the snow starts to come down. I’ll call the office and find out about completing our transactions now – this morning.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Bad storm. Watch.”

  They sat back and watched the weather. The storm had buried the mountains and the Midwest, and now was making a wild dash east.

  “Damn it all.”

  “Bad news,” Mike stated. “Imagine how these holiday travelers are feeling.”

  “I know. I’m one of them,” Devlan snapped.

  “We’ll work something out, sir.”

  Devlan reached for the receiver of his telephone and dialed a number, his fingers rough on the buttons. His voice was clipped when his lawyer picked up.

  “Set up a meeting now, this morning. We need to finish this by noon.”

  Devlan hung up the phone before his lawyer could answer and turned to Mike. “Get on the line and handle things from here. I’m going to head down now. Call me on my mobile as soon as you hear anything. I want to get out of here by noon.”

  “Right,” Mike said, nodding his head.

  Devlan pushed back the chair and came to his feet. With purposeful strides, he collected his heavy overcoat and briefcase. Nothing was going to stop him from completing this deal and returning to Malibu, not the weather, not the lawyers – no one. He had to get back to them. And he would. No matter what, he would.

  Chapter 18

  The phone in Devlan’s pocket vibrated, alerting him to the incoming call. He reached for it, waving his finger at the secretary who offered him a pen.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said to the crowd. Pushing back his chair, he came to his feet and raised the phone to his ear.

  “What have you got?”

  “Sir, I have some news.”

  Devlan frowned. Mike’s voice was tense, and he sounded so far away. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just got off the phone with Mrs. Maclean. Wills has been out all night and just left this morning for the hospitals.”

  “Hospitals?” A cold feeling of dread landed on his shoulders with the weight of the world. All eyes in the room swiveled toward him, and a hush fell. “What’s wrong?”

  “They can’t find Mrs. Somerset or Hannah, sir.”

  The words escaped in a rush, and then Mike fell silent. Devlan shook his head as if to clear it before pushing open the broad door. He needed privacy – quick.

  “What?”

  “Mrs. Somerset went out two evenings ago and was out late. When everyone woke up in the morning, she still was not there and neither was Hannah.”

  “Maybe they went shopping,” he said hopefully, although he knew the truth. It hit him with such a sharp pain in his chest that he could barely breathe.

  Mike’s response was just as guarded. “She hasn’t been home since, sir.”

  “Are her clothes gone?”

  “They couldn’t find anything missing but her suitcases. Everything else was left in their rooms.”

  There was a rushing sound in his head. Over that sound came the thundering of his heart. His voice caught as he spoke the dreaded words. “The car?”

  “Gone.” Mike said softly. “Miguel said he saw it last pull out around nine.”

  “No accidents reported?”

  “Wills is still looking into it.”

  “Let me know as soon as you hear anything. Any luck in the airports?” he asked hopefully.

  “Not a chance. Too much traffic leaving before the storm. We’re stuck here until it passes.”

  “At least it’s a fast mover.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mike’s voice was solemn.

  “No note?”

  “They didn’t say, sir.”

  Devlan shook his head again, stunned. He knew. In the back of his mind he knew. He had been gone for too long and she got scared. She had flown the coop again. There was nothing he could do about it now, not with a storm coming. And chances were that everything he had bought her was neatly where she had found it. Her pride would never have allowed her to take anything.

  “Keep your ears open for word on the car. I’m sure we’ll be getting it back,” he said softly.

  “Do you want me to hire someone to find her?” Mike’s voice was hopeful.

  Devlan sighed. “No.”

  Sudden anger filled him. If his love had not been strong enough to hold her, there was no sense in keeping her against her will. If she did not want him, he sure as hell would not chase after her. He had tasted their sunshine, albeit briefly. Perhaps that would be enough for him. The stabbing pain in his heart told him that it never would be. The idea of growing old without them, without Diana’s smile and Hannah’s laughter, filled him with such loneliness that he thought his heart would tear in two.

  “Let’s watch for the car first,” he conceded roughly.

  “I’ll pull whatever strings I can to get us back there, sir. And I’ll keep an ear open for news.”

  “Good.”

  “Oh, and sir? They also told me her Christmas gift for you arrived. Mrs. Maclean says it’s beautiful.”

  “That’s great,” he muttered.

  He hung up the phone and wandered down the carpeted hall until he found an empty office. Shutting the door behind him, Devlan leaned against the wall and took in a harsh breath. He could not breathe, so heavy was the feeling in h
is chest. The room began to spin as he gasped for air. He lurched away from the door and staggered to the small desk. His hands fell heavy on the papers scattered about as he collapsed into the stiff chair. He felt lightheaded.

  Glancing down at his hands, Devlan noticed he was sweating. Yet he felt so cold. Gooseflesh began to rise under his suit and shirt, the fine hairs sticking up straight to hold in the heat. It did not help. He was so cold. Was it possible to die of a broken heart?

  Suddenly the door opened, and a young intern stuck his head in. “Mr. Doyle? What are you doing in here?” His head cocked to one side. “Are you all right, sir? You don’t look too good.”

  Devlan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came forth. He still could not breathe well, and the heaviness in his chest grew more insistent. He shook his head. The intern approached cautiously and reached forward to touch the pulse on his neck. His keen gaze took in Devlan for another moment before he backed away.

  “I’m going to go for help. Just wait right here.”

  Devlan wanted to shout for him to stay with him. Suddenly he felt scared. Something was most definitely wrong, but what he could not tell. Perhaps losing Diana and Hannah had done something to him, or maybe it was possible to die of a broken heart after all. The young man hurried from the office. As though from a distance, Devlan heard him shouting for help.

  “Call 911. Man down. Quick, I need help!”

  The next thing he knew there were people all around him and his phone was vibrating again. Still in his hand, he glanced down. It was an unknown number with a strange area code. He ignored the call and closed his eyes briefly. Faces blended, but Devlan saw only one in his mind’s eye. Just one woman with blond hair and bright blue eyes smiled down at him.

  “Why?” he whispered.

  No one responded; no one had the answer. His shirt was loosened, and he was gently lowered from the chair to the floor. Someone came by with a blanket, which they threw over him. He noticed then that he was shivering violently. Voices were mingling around him. Suddenly two dark figures arrived, and they were carrying equipment. A mask was placed over his face, and he was told to breathe in deep.

  He was dying. He knew it. But he did not mind. Losing Diana and Hannah were too much for him to bear. So accustomed had he grown to their presence in his life, that one without them seemed too overwhelming to consider.

  The huge deal he had made meant nothing. Nothing at all mattered anymore. Diana and Hannah were gone.

  ~

  “Happy New Year!”

  Diana lifted her glass of ginger ale and toasted the small party. Allan was there, as was Brad, his partner and some of their friends. Despite all these new faces, Hannah missed California desperately. Every day was a chore for Diana to explain again why Uncle Devlan was not there, and why he probably would not come back. It had been harder than she had imagined, for not only did she miss Devlan but Hannah did as well. Allan’s arrival just after Christmas had helped, but it was Brad’s consistent tenderness and playfulness with her that smoothed the way.

  “Smile Diana, have a good time.”

  Diana raised her glass at Allan and smiled. Once again he had proven himself to be a true friend. Allan had arrived with her car, packed to the hilt with some of her treasured belongings.

  She stood alone by the easel that rested next to the fireplace in the living room, watching the small party from a safe distance. Her heart was not in it. Luckily Hannah slept peacefully in their borrowed room down the hall, the noise from the party not loud enough to wake up her exhausted child. The men and few women that mingled stood in cliques around her, and no one offered to speak to her. She did not mind; in fact, she preferred watching. Everyone appeared so happy and completely oblivious to the mess that she had made of her life.

  “Hey, can you turn up that TV?” someone shouted to her.

  Diana glanced at the small TV before turning it louder. The scene in New York City was boisterous. There were people all over the place in Times Square. She noticed the huge crowds in addition to the big piles of snow and shivered. Had Devlan made it home before the storm last week? She had tried one last time to reach him using Brad’s phone, but it had gone to voice mail and again she could not speak long enough to leave a message. Hoping that with time she would be able to find her voice, she decided to take a wait and see approach.

  Suddenly Allan appeared by her side and took her arm. “Let’s go outside. It’s quieter out there.”

  She nodded and let him lead her out the front door just as the news came on. No one watched as they went over the headlines and the weather. Then came the news that caught some of the more right wing artist’s attention.

  On the screen was the view of a dark coated man whose face was hidden under the raised collar. A biting wind pressed the coat against his long legs, the tails flapping wildly out behind him. He was climbing the stairs to a white jet, but his face remained downcast and his footsteps were slow. The newsman’s voice suddenly interjected.

  “And Doyle Enterprises’, Devlan Doyle, left the city tonight for rest and relaxation in his Brentwood, California mansion. As you know, Doyle, on the day he made history with his huge company merger with SYTE Computers suffered a near fatal heart attack. It’s said that he will make a full recovery but needs to take some time off from his hectic schedule.”

  “Will his girlfriend, model Roxanne Lemieux, be accompanying him?” The co-announcer asked.

  “Roxanne has left New York for Italy, and Doyle is due to start production of a new television movie in Hollywood. A spokesperson for the Doyle camp has released the news that Doyle and Lemieux are still friends, but probably will be seeing others. Sounds a little rocky to me.”

  The crowd jeered at the news, and Brad shouted at the others to turn it off. Through the closed door Diana heard the sound of Brad’s stereo and grimaced.

  “I’ll go tell him to turn it down,” Allan said, coming to his feet.

  “No, no,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “It’s his house.”

  “That’s why I asked you to come out here. Brad approached me earlier tonight…”

  Diana squeezed her eyes shut. “He wants us out?”

  “No, no, just the opposite. He wants you to stay on as a roommate. It’s cheap enough rent if you split it in half, and Hannah seems to like it here.” Allan smiled and reached for Diana’s hand over the glass table. “I noticed you were drinking ginger ale all evening.”

  Diana glanced down at her champagne flute and shrugged. “I don’t like champagne.”

  Allan nodded, but the curve of his mouth told her he did not believe her. He leaned against the wall and crossed his legs at the ankle as if he had all the time in the world. “What happened in California?”

  “I told you. Hannah’s almost well. It was time for us to move on.”

  “In that much of a hurry? There’s more.”

  Diana shook her head, but tears had begun to form in her eyes. She looked away from Allan’s piercing stare and crossed her arms over her chest, wincing as she did so. The sensitivity of her breasts merely made matters worse, reminding her that she did in fact have a secret.

  “I’d rather not pry Diana, but you sounded so desperate on the phone. I just want to make sure you’re going to be safe here… Did he hurt you like Peter?”

  Diana tried to laugh, but the sound was more like a sob. “Oh no! Just the opposite, Allan. He was a true gentleman. He was so nice, so gentle and caring. Hannah loved him. He was just perfect.”

  “So why did you leave him?”

  Diana returned her gaze to Allan’s, her eyes bright with tears. “He’s getting married.”

  “Married? To whom?”

  She waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter. Not to me.”

  “But did you tell him how you feel?”

  “And how do I feel, Allan?”

  “It’s plain as day that you’re in love with him. Maybe you should tell him.”

  “I can’t.”

&n
bsp; “Why not? Maybe he’d change his plans.”

  “Roxanne is much more glamorous and beautiful than I. He’s better off with someone more of his class.”

  “More his class? I don’t know for sure, but when I saw him, he seemed pretty humble to me.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t fit in.”

  “Tell him.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “Tell him.”

  “I can’t, Allan. Please stop.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Diana glanced down at her hands. She was grasping her ginger ale flute tightly. “I’m pregnant. I confirmed it at a clinic Monday.”

  Allan’s face paled for just an instant before all the color came rushing back. She watched as he swallowed hard.

  “What?” he choked.

  “You heard me,” she snapped.

  “That’s all the more reason to tell him. Don’t be stupid, Diana.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t right now. I’ve tried, but it’s too difficult. I can’t even leave him a message.” Her voice broke, and she felt her eyes fill with all the unshed tears she had been bottling in. “Please, I need more time. It just hurts too much right now.”

  “He has a right to know.”

  “Please, Allan. When you return the car to him don’t say anything. Do you understand me, Allan? You can’t tell him.”

  “How can you do that to him?” Allan frowned fiercely. “How can you be so cold?”

  His words stung her. Cold? Is that what she had become? She needed to make her point clear. “It would kill me to know that he was with me when he loved another. Don’t you see? He would do that. He’s such a kind man that he would drop everything and marry me. I couldn’t live like that.”

  “I don’t agree with this. Diana, I can’t make any promises. If he gives me any inkling that he really wants to know where you are, I’m going to tell him.”

  “Please don’t do that to me.”

  Allan came to his feet. “I’d like to get some sleep before I hit the road later.” Though he was furious with her, he held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”