She closed her eyes. She hadn’t cried, not at all, although she had never in her life felt so sad. She supposed that the lack of tears had to do with her sense of resignation at having made such an ill-advised choice when, like Ernie, she had known better. Still, she couldn’t say she was sorry. Elizabeth had been wrong about one thing: Hannah hadn’t been afraid to take the chance, and she was never going to regret having let John Ernest Watson into her life. She suddenly smiled, thinking of him. That was the kind of man he was, the kind a woman smiled about when she knew he wasn’t looking.
She abruptly sat up on the side of the bed. She’d had enough of this. She built a fire in the stove, after all, waited until the house was warm, and then took a long shower. She felt a little better when she came out of the bathroom—until she saw Mim Swimmer on the porch. She sighed heavily and opened the door ahead of her knock.
“John Ernest sent me,” Mim said without prelude, stepping in out of the wind. She turned around so Hannah could help her off with her coat. “I hope that look you’re wearing is for the message and not the messenger,” she added as Hannah hung the coat on a peg by the door.
Hannah made no comment, but Mim wasn’t about to let her get away with mat.
“Aren’t you going to ask why he sent me?”
“I know why. He’s in the habit of looking after Browne women and he can’t get out of it.”
“No,” Mim said matter-of-factly as she looked around the place. “I’ll make some coffee.”
“I don’t want coffee.”
“Then I’ll make it for myself. It’s cold out today and I need it.”
She left Hannah standing and went about the business of coffee-making.
“Mim, I’m sorry. I’m being rude.”
“Yes,” Mim said without looking up. “Not without provocation, but rude nevertheless.”
Hannah sighed and began gathering up her things and stuffing them into her duffel bag, glancing up once because Mim wasn’t stopping at just coffee. She was frying bacon and scrambling eggs and making toast as well.
“Life is life, Hannah,” she said. “You can’t change one thing about it. You can only face what you have to face with your stomach full. Now, come and set two places.”
Hannah hesitated for a moment, then gave in, because it seemed easier than arguing. She got the plates out of the cabinet Mim showed her, and she found, to her surprise, that she was actually hungry by the time Mim brought breakfast to the table.
“Is Petey all right?” Hannah asked after a long time of eating in silence.
“Petey is fine. It’s John Ernest you should be asking about.”
“Mim—”
“Unless you’re like Elizabeth, and you don’t care whether he’s all right or not.”
Hannah looked at the older woman. Yes, she wanted to know about Ernie, but she couldn’t make herself admit it. “Is … Elizabeth all right?”
“No, but this is her own doing, and whatever’s wrong this time, she’s not telling. Jake and Ernie are trying to get it out of her, and she’s trying to drag Ernie into it with everything she’s got. She’ll do it, too, if you’re not careful.”
“I don’t have anything to do with this.”
“Of course you do. Why else would I be here?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Hannah said, and Mim gave a small smile.
“And whose fault is that? Sometimes you have to dig in and ask questions, Hannah. Elizabeth is like my own baby. I’ve looked after her since the day she was born. I love her, but I’m not blind to her faults. Now, John Ernest—he’s like my own baby, too. You never saw a better child. I don’t mean he didn’t get into things. He did. He was a rascal—is a rascal, as you probably well know. But he cares about people. He always has. It’s the way he is. It’s why he took to being a rodeo clown the way he did, and it’s why he’s always looked after Elizabeth. It’s why she was able to tear him apart. There’s no way in this world he’d walk away from somebody who asked him for help, no matter what it cost him … and that’s why I’m so worried about him.”
“Ernie’s not drinking, is he?”
“If he isn’t, it’s no thanks to you.”
“To me? I haven’t—”
“You’re the one who’s breaking his heart.”
“I’m not breaking his heart! Mim, I don’t think you understand the situation here—”
“I understand what I understand,” she said, handing Hannah a slice of toast. In her agitation, Hannah took it. “Eat,” Mim admonished.
“I don’t want to eat! I want to know about Ernie!”
“Good,” Mim praised her, but she didn’t tell her anything.
“Mim—”
“Eat,” she insisted. “Then we’ll talk. Eat!” she said again when Hannah was about to protest. “I’m an old woman. I didn’t walk all this way over wet ground in a freezing wind to have you not eat the best breakfast you’ll find from here to Dallas. And while you’re eating, you can think.”
“About what?” Hannah said, taking a bite of toast in spite of herself.
“John Ernest,” Mim said pointedly. And she got up from the table and moved her chair closer to the stove, sitting quietly while Hannah picked over her food all she was going to.
“So,” she said when Hannah reluctantly dragged her chair over to join her. “What are you going to do about John Ernest?”
Hannah frowned. She could see well enough where Ernie had gotten his penchant for not working up to something. “Nothing,” she said flatly.
“Why not?”
“He loves Elizabeth.”
“Yes,” Mim agreed. “So what are you going to do about John Ernest?” she repeated.
“Mim—”
“What are you going to do about him?”
“I’m not going to do anything, for God’s sake! He loves Elizabeth!”
“And so you’ll just give up.”
“Mim,” Hannah said in exasperation, “I … don’t have a choice. Elizabeth is—” She didn’t go on.
“What is she, Hannah? Tell me.”
Hannah looked into Mim’s dark eyes. She didn’t want to be in the conversation, but she answered anyway. “Beautiful. Wild. Fiery. No man’s ever going to tame her, but they all want to try. I can’t compete with her.”
“A man needs a certain fire in the woman he loves, Hannah, but that fire should warm his heart, not destroy him. John Ernest has had nothing but pain from Elizabeth. And she’s about to hurt him again—by making you run away and leave him.”
“Mim, you don’t understand! I did the wrong thing. I knew about Ernie and Elizabeth. I knew she counted on him, and he told me the first night we met that he’d wanted to marry her. I pretended it didn’t matter. I let myself get—”
“He loves you,” Mim interrupted.
“He hasn’t said so,” Hannah countered.
“He hasn’t said so?” Mim asked incredulously. “Then what am I doing here? What is he doing calling me after midnight and telling me to come over and talk to you as soon as I can? He’s got his hands full with Elizabeth, and he’s worried to death you don’t understand—which I’m thinking you don’t. Do you love John Ernest, or don’t you?”
“Yes!” Hannah cried, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes—”
“Then I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Hannah. I’m going to tell you what you’ll have to put up with if you stay with him. Yes, he’ll help Elizabeth if she comes asking. And he’ll help anybody else who comes asking, too. If he needs to, he’ll take your last dime to get some down-on-his-luck cowboy out of jail. And then, while you’re being all mad about that, he’ll be gone all night because he’s driving that same rounder a couple hundred miles so he can see his children. And if that’s not bad enough, he’ll expect you to drop everything and go with him. You’re going to have strangers sitting at your supper table and sleeping on your couch at all hours. It’s not that he’s weak or that he lets people take advantage of him. It’s just the w
ay he is. His idea of taking you out on the town will be some hole-in-the-wall where you have to eat standing up and the waitresses wear hair curlers—because the people there are decent and hardworking and the conversation, not necessarily the food, is good.”
Hannah suddenly grinned, thinking of the Starlight Café. “I’ve almost been there already.”
“See?” Mim said. “He likes people, Hannah, and he doesn’t care what they’ve got or what they can do for him. He’s never met a stranger in his life, and if you love him, you’ll have to put up with it, because you’ll never change him. If you can’t do that, then I want you to leave him here and now. Don’t hurt him, because he’s had enough of that. He’s a good man, for all his troubles with drink, and he needs you, but if you love him and you want to stay with him, you’re going to have to trust him to take care of his problem with Elizabeth himself. You can’t help him with it—except to wait while he does it and not add to his troubles. He’s got a lot to settle with her, and he knows he’s going to have to settle it if the two of you are going anywhere together. You have to just—love him, Hannah. And you have to wait.”
“I’m not very good at waiting.”
“So John Ernest told me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Mim assured her. “He didn’t have time to talk much. He only said that you let go of things that hurt you, and he thinks it’s got something to do with Jake.”
“Oh, he did,” Hannah said a bit testily.
“Yes. He said that. And he said to tell you that he’d wrapped you in chains …” Mim frowned. “Now I can’t remember.” She thought for a moment. “Light …”
“Chains as light as gossamer,” Hannah said quietly, looking away.
“Yes. I guess he thought you’d understand what that meant.”
Hannah didn’t reply. She understood, not that it mattered. It wasn’t going to work out for the two of them, no matter how much they both might want it, and there was no point in thinking otherwise. The telephone rang, and she let Mim answer it, hoping it wasn’t Ernie and hoping just as hard that it was.
Mim looked around at her sharply. “Yes, she’s here. Do you want to talk to her?”
Hannah waited, her heart beginning to pound.
“No,” Mim said. “I haven’t. Because that’s the truth. She’s been having breakfast with me. Do you want to ask her?”
She abruptly held the phone away from her ear. “That was Jake,” she said, hanging up. “He can’t find Ernie.”
CHAPTER TEN
“IS ELIZABETH—did he take Elizabeth with him?”
She was taking Mim’s advice about one thing. She was going to dig in and ask questions.
“Yes,” Mim said, putting on her coat. “That’s why Jake called. He thought they might be here with you.”
“He—Jake—didn’t want to talk to me, did he?” she asked unnecessarily.
“No, Hannah, he didn’t. He’s worried about Elizabeth.”
“Where do you think they are?”
“Oh, honey, I don’t know. More than likely John Ernest and Jake had words, and Jake had him thrown off the place, not thinking Elizabeth would go with him. I’m going over there and see what I can do.” She reached up to pat Hannah’s cheek. “I guess that leaves you with the dirty dishes. I need to run by and make sure Michael and Petey are all right. Don’t go back to Dallas yet, Hannah. Wait for John Ernest. I want to be able to tell him that when I see him—that you’re waiting.”
“Mim, there’s no point in that.” Especially now.
“Wait, Hannah. Be strong. Waiting will cost you nothing, and it may make all the difference in your happiness—and John Ernest’s.”
Mim looked at her expectantly for a reply, and when she didn’t give it, she hugged Hannah tightly. “You won’t go without seeing Petey?”
“No,” Hannah said. She could make that promise. “I’ll see Petey before I leave.”
The house was suddenly too small after Mim’s departure. Hannah put on her jacket and walked outside, leaving the dirty dishes. The sun was bright and the wind cold. She walked around the place, trying not to think about Ernie and seeing him in this place just the same. He’d grown up here until his mother’s death; it was here that he’d first met and loved Elizabeth. She walked down to the pond, noticing the many dogwood trees that bordered the property. It must be beautiful here in the spring, she thought, turning her head sharply at the first notes of Swan Lake. She smiled. What a tender gesture that was. A musical waterwheel. She had no doubt at all that Ernie’s mother had loved it.
She stood at the water’s edge, watching the wind blow ripples across the pond. She could hear the sound of traffic in the distance, and crows. Her nose was getting cold, and she turned her back to the wind.
John Ernest Watson.
Oh, Ernie…
She stood there remembering the feel of being wrapped in that raincoat with him, his body hard and warm against hers, and the endearing way he’d wanted to show her this place.
She suddenly remembered Elizabeth’s question: Did you lie to me?
No, he’d told her. No.
Mim could be matter-of-fact about his loving Elizabeth. Hannah couldn’t. It hurt. And she knew that what Mim had said about him was true. John Ernest Watson was a caring man. That was the reason he’d stayed and helped her look after Petey in the first place, and that was the reason he’d sent Mim to make sure she was all right now.
She looked up at the sound of a truck coming too fast—recklessly fast—down the long dirt drive that led in from the highway. The truck was new and shiny black, but the driver paid no attention at all to the recent rain, hitting the potholes hard and sending a shower of water and mud in his wake. He turned sharply toward the house, pulling close to the porch.
He was already getting back into the truck when Hannah reached the yard. She stood squinting in the bright sunlight, trying to keep her hair from blowing into her eyes, waiting for Jake Browne to tell her what he was doing here.
He was a tall man, his face weathered and ageless from being out in the sun. He was in his work clothes, jeans and boots and a fleece-lined denim jacket. He wore a cowboy hat with a silver and turquoise band and, as incongruous as it seemed to Hannah, a diamond ring on his left little finger. She could still see much of the young man from the picture in Mim’s album.
He caught sight of her just as she was about to slam the truck door closed. “I didn’t think anyone was here,” he said, clearly startled but recovering quickly. His eyes traveled over her face, but she had no idea what he was thinking. She wondered if he even knew who she was.
“No one is,” she answered, “except me.” She shivered in a blast of wind. “I’m going inside. You can come in if you want.”
She left him sitting there, half in half out of his mud-splattered truck. She expected him to leave, but he didn’t. He got out and slammed the door closed, following her onto the porch—probably because he wanted to see for himself whether she was hiding Ernie and Elizabeth.
“I’m looking for Watson,” he said as they went into the house. He was close enough for her to decide that he smelled exactly the way she’d always thought her father, the rancher, would smell: a bit like horses and stale pipe tobacco.
“Yes, I know. I haven’t seen him since he took Elizabeth home.” She shrugged her coat off and hung it on the peg. “There’s some coffee, but it’s cold. I’ll heat it up if you want.” It surprised her how calm she sounded. Perhaps it surprised him as well. He certainly looked as if he’d never even considered the possibility of her offering him a cup of coffee.
“I—all right. If it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s not any trouble.” She set about warming the coffee. She felt no obligation to play hostess other than that, and she left him standing awkwardly while she began to gather up the dirty dishes from her breakfast with Mim.
“They tell me you’re a … career woman,” he said after a ti
me, dragging a chair away from the stove and sitting at the kitchen table.
“I am. But don’t worry. Mim made the coffee.”
He almost smiled, and the conversation lagged again.
“Look,” Hannah said finally. “You don’t have to hang around here for the coffee if you don’t want to. I don’t know where Ernie would go with Elizabeth—”
“Is that what your mama taught you?” he broke in. “Offer somebody coffee and then try to run him off?”
“No, that’s not what she taught me. She taught me not to let anything suffer if I could help it.”
“Even me,” he suggested.
“Even you,” she agreed.
“Watson tells me you think I’m not your daddy,” he said out of the clear blue.
“If you are, you’re a damn poor excuse for one,” she answered, and he laughed.
“You don’t mind telling me to my face, do you?”
“Not much, no.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “You don’t look like her—your mama.”
“No,” Hannah said, turning away from him to get the coffee pot. She poured him a cup, wondering where this conversation was leading.
“You look like my mama,” he said, and she looked up at him. “You and Petey both. Yeah, you’re mine, and yeah, I’m late on being a father to you. Nothing I can do about it now, though.” He took the cup she offered him.
“There’s something you could do for Elizabeth.”
“Now, look!” he said, slamming the cup down on the table. “I’m getting a little bit tired of outsiders like you and Watson trying to tell me what I ought to be doing about my daughter!”
“Fine!” Hannah said. “But Elizabeth needs you to love her enough to get her some help instead of indulging her every whim. And outsiders or not, Ernie and I are the ones she trusted to take care of Petey, aren’t we?”
He got up from the table. She shouldn’t have said that, but it was too late now. She knew by virtue of the fact that he’d come here how worried he must be.
“Much obliged for the coffee—and you know Watson’s left you high and dry, don’t you? Damned if I know what the two of you see in that scamp.”
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