Doris let Wade hold the umbrella’s curved handle. As soon as they were down the chapel steps, Doris’s voice fought the rain for volume. “I’ll say, Hannah, that was a delightful surprise seeing Henry Roberts sit by you. Aren’t you intrigued with him? You should let him court you.”
Hannah watched the road ahead, trying to guide the twins around the deepest of the puddles. “Not now, Doris.”
“You would make a handsome couple. He is dashing, don’t you think?”
David flipped up his collar to shield his neck from the rain. “Shut it, Doris.”
Their father’s voice came from behind them. “Speak kindly to your sister.”
“Fine,” David huffed. “Shut it, please.”
Unabated by her brother’s scolding, Doris continued. “I think Hannah is the luckiest lady in the village. If a man came to sit by me and put his arm around me like that, all of my friends would die of jealousy.”
Christopher said, “It is never charitable to want others to be jealous, Kitten.”
Doris added a twinge of whininess to her voice. “I meant it as a compliment, Father. Hannah finally has a suitor, and for it to be someone as dapper as Henry, she should be glowing.”
David raised his voice. “He isn’t her suitor!”
“What’s a suitor?” Minnie asked.
Hannah wanted to cover the twins’ ears, but her hands were busy keeping the umbrella steady in the rain. She ground her teeth together. “Please drop the subject, everyone.”
She hadn’t figured out what Henry was to her or what he wanted to be or what she was to him because none of it mattered—at least not now and maybe not for years to come. Aric and Adeline’s romance was the only love story she should be concerned with at the moment.
Once home, the family hung their dripping overcoats in the mudroom. Hannah sent Doris upstairs to help the twins change while she got lunch on the table. Christopher and the boys returned to the kitchen first, talking about the growing puppies and what homes they would go to once they were weaned.
Doris stepped into the kitchen during their discussion. “I think Henry should have one of the puppies.”
“Doris!” Hannah warned.
“Well, Sarah Ashton told me Henry is trying to make the printing press a village-supported trade, so I think we should at least offer him a puppy.”
David narrowed his eyes at Doris. “He’s not getting one of my dogs.”
Christopher lifted a palm, silencing them both. “Kitten, this is none of your concern. David, you and Henry will be on the elder council together your whole lives. You should respect him.”
David dropped into his seat at the table looking more like a sulky adolescent than the eighteen-year-old that he was. “He’s no good for Hannah.”
“David!” Hannah’s hand slipped as she carried a tray of cheese to the table. The tray clattered on the table, drawing everyone’s attention.
Doris jumped to her aid. “Now you’ve upset Hannah. What have you got against Henry?”
David crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t like him.”
“You don’t have to like him,” Christopher said, “but you do have to respect him and your sister. Hannah is an adult and can make her own decisions.”
After Hannah slowly lowered herself into her seat at the table, Christopher said the blessing. She didn’t speak for the rest of the meal.
Once the table was cleared and the dishes washed, she went to the window in the mudroom to check the sky.
Christopher shuffled into the kitchen from the parlor. “Has it stopped?”
“For now.” Hannah picked up the plate of scraps for the dogs. “The wind has died off. I need out of the house for a while.”
Christopher nodded and took a step away, then turned back and grinned slightly. “Just so you know… I like him.”
“Who?”
“Henry. He’s a good man. Hard worker.”
“Father, I don’t want to talk about Henry.”
He raised a palm in surrender. “Well, if you do—”
“I don’t.” She balanced the plate of scraps on one hand and turned the doorknob with the other. “I’ll be back in time to start dinner.”
The break in the clouds and the lack of voices outside made her wish she’d brought her writing paper. If the rain was over, she could go to the springs and write. As she walked into the barn, she glanced back at the house. If she went back for her satchel, the girls might ask to go with her. She needed time alone more than anything. She hadn’t been able to think through her story during church, so she could use the time to plan her final scene.
After giving the table scraps to the dogs, she stopped in front of Zelda’s stall and fed her a carrot. The wind whipped past the barn, slamming the door shut. Hannah petted the horse. “Don’t worry, girl, the storm is over. I have one quiet hour before I have to be back in the kitchen, and I will spend it well.” She reached for a bridle that hung on the wall. “Let’s go for a ride.”
Chapter Fifteen
Henry sat at the far end of the table in his family’s kitchen while his mother and Ellenore washed the dishes from Hazel’s birthday dinner. The air in the room was thick with merriment and the scent of roasted chicken. Matthew Roberts had spent the better part of the meal steering every conversation to the subject of holy matrimony, eyeing Hazel and her suitor, Arnold McIntosh, all the while. The three youngest children had gone into the parlor to play after dinner, but everyone else stayed in the kitchen, knowing what their father and Arnold had planned.
Rain pounded the windows as Matthew nudged Arnold. “Go on, boy. Haven’t you something to say to my daughter?”
Hazel blushed and glanced at Henry nervously. Henry nodded once to assure his sister the coming surprise from her suitor was a pleasant one.
Ellenore wiped her hands on a dishtowel and walked toward the table. Simon hovered behind Henry’s chair, picking his teeth. Outside, the driving rain pattered against the house, but inside the room fell silent, save for Arnold as he knelt before Hazel and professed his love.
Henry leaned forward. There was something satisfying about watching a young man fidget and sweat as he asked a woman to marry him. Arnold’s fearful expression relaxed as he spoke of his devotion to Hazel and his dreams for their future together. She tearfully accepted his proposal.
Joyous applause filled the cozy kitchen. The children ran in from the parlor, asking what was happening. A twinge of jealousy pinged inside Henry as the happy couple embraced. He was the eldest; he should have been the first to get married.
Henry left the table and paced to the window. Though still light outside, heavy rain obstructed the view to the road. A white line of melting hailstones lined the garden. Thunder rumbled all around.
Ellenore came beside him. “Hazel might be the first of us to the altar, but she isn’t the only one in love.”
Henry broke his gaze from the storm-tossed yard and lifted an eyebrow at his favorite sister. “Have you got a sweetheart now, Elle?”
Smiling, she popped him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Not me. You.”
Hannah wasn’t his sweetheart. Not yet. No matter how much he’d tried to resist pursuing her, when he saw her at church this morning, he couldn’t stay away. His heart was dragging him irrationally forward into a relationship he wasn’t capable of sustaining.
If the past was any indicator, he was in dangerous territory. He didn’t have to tell Ellenore. She’d witnessed every one of his failed relationships. First having to leave Lilly in Virginia, then his infatuation with Peggy Cotter, and more recently, his inability to please Cecelia Foster. With each attempt at love—and each failure—his heart sank deeper within him. He couldn’t describe what was happening now between him and Hannah, so he certainly wouldn’t talk about it. He lowered his chin and gave Ellenore a look to stop the conversation before it began.
Matthew raised his cup and clinked it with a salt spoon, commanding everyone’s attention. “Here,
here! Gather ‘round, family.” His voice filled with fatherly pride. “Arnold beseeched me some time ago for Hazel’s hand, and I heartily gave him my blessing. My dearest Hazel, you have been everything a daughter should be. You deserve a lifetime of happiness. I have no doubt Arnold will make you a fine husband.”
A fine husband—something Henry never would be.
A frantic knock rattled the front door, ending Matthew’s toast. The children ran to the door as Priscilla opened it.
Wade Vestal stepped inside with his young face red and rainwater dripping from his cap. “Is Hannah here?” he asked, panting.
Priscilla answered, “No, she isn’t.”
Wade’s voice broke. “She left the house this afternoon and hasn’t come back.”
Priscilla drew her head back. “That’s not like Hannah.”
“We searched our property but couldn’t find her. Father thought she might have come here.”
Henry’s heart surged into his throat. He crossed the kitchen floor in three quick strides and parted his siblings. “When did you see her last?”
“After lunch. She went outside when the rain let up.” Wade flashed Henry a sour glance and quickly returned his gaze to Priscilla. “She took our lunch scraps to the dogs in the barn. We thought she stayed out there to do chores, but she didn’t come back when it started storming.”
Henry’s sisters were crowding into the doorway and Simon too.
From across the room Matthew asked, “What’s happened?”
Priscilla shooed the children away from the door and guided Wade farther inside. “It seems Hannah Vestal is missing.”
“Missing?” Matthew’s eye widened. “In this weather?”
The mumbles and questions rose around Henry. He swatted the air to silence them and stepped closer to Wade. “Did she take anything with her?”
Wade inched away from Henry. “No, but Zelda is gone too.”
Matthew joined them near the door. “She probably rode to Olivia and Gabe’s house. I sometimes see her ride Zelda past on Sunday afternoons.”
When Henry had talked to Hannah at the springs last week, she had said it was her favorite place in the Land. She probably went there to write during the break in the storm. “Did you check the springs?”
Wade shook his head. “She always tells our father when she’s going to the springs. She only said that she was going outside. Father thought she meant to the barn. Since we can’t find her, he thought maybe she went to someone’s house.”
Matthew slid his arms into his overcoat. “You check the springs, son. I will ride out to Gabriel’s.”
Henry nodded in agreement with his father’s plan.
Simon patted Henry’s back. “I’ll come with you.”
Matthew paused at the door and glanced between Henry and Simon. “We will find her faster if we spread out. Simon, walk over to the Cotters’ house and ask if they have seen her.”
Simon looked at Henry as if confirming the order. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“Thank you,” Henry answered, grateful to have his brother’s support, “but Father is right. Go to the Cotters’. I’ll check the springs.”
Henry tried not to picture Hannah injured or trapped in floodwaters or beaten by the hail. The gut-wrenching force of fear would have crumbled him if it wasn’t for his determination to find her. He pulled on his boots and slapped on his hat.
His father hurried to the barn to saddle a horse, and Simon ran toward the Cotters’ farm. Henry buttoned his overcoat while dashing across the yard in the rain. Though lightning cracked in the eastern sky, he kept his eyes on the muddy path to the springs.
Why had she gone out in this weather? Break in the storm or no, she shouldn’t have ventured far from the house. Even if she wanted time alone to write, she should have had more sense. What if she’d fallen into the water and drowned?
His heart ached like he’d been punched in the chest. Worrying was senseless. Illogical. She was fine, probably hiding in the cave behind the waterfall, lost in her story world and not caring about the hail and thunder that had pummeled the land. When he found her, he would scold her and escort her home and that would be the end of whatever was between them. It had to be. It would hurt, but it was better than loving her more and losing her.
That was the answer then. He couldn’t love her. Not like this. Caring hurt too much.
He had work to do and a library to fill. He didn’t have time to run through the rain to find missing neighbor girls.
He cut across the Vestals’ property and took their well-stomped path to the springs. Beyond the orchard and pastures, the earth rose in a hill. The rain let up as he climbed the incline. Mud slurped beneath his boots, making each step more difficult. The wooded area near the springs was in sight.
He stopped to catch his breath. Something moved beyond a thicket. He squinted into the blowing mist. “Hannah?”
There was no answer.
He left the path and traipsed through the soggy grass toward the brush. A horse stood under the shelter of a tall gray leaf tree. Its reins were hooked on a low-hanging branch. The wet horse flinched, unsure if it wanted Henry’s help. Its brown and white mane parted, revealing nervous black eyes.
Henry held out a hand. “Whoa there, Zelda. You’re all right, girl. Where is Hannah?” He reached for the reins. The rope hadn’t been tied. Hannah had left her horse in a hurry. He checked the brush, the grass, and the limbs for clues. The ground was littered with pockets of melting hailstones. Thin, water-filled boot prints dotted the mud. If the hailstorm had surprised Hannah, she would have run for cover. He didn’t need to follow the prints to know where she had gone. He patted the horse. “I will be back for you as soon as I find her.”
Though the rain stopped, the clouds were still thick, suffocating the last light of day. Henry deeply bent his knees for balance as he descended the slope and hurried to the water’s edge. The roar of the nearby waterfall gushed violently.
The rocks where he’d sat with Hannah only a week ago were now buried under several feet of floodwater. He scanned the swelling stream as he hiked toward the cave behind the waterfall. The pool had broken free of its bank and—though it was getting too dark to see—water would be filling the shallow cave.
“Hannah?” he yelled over the tumult of rushing water. “Hannah?”
“Help!” A distant voice replied. “I’m back here!”
His boots slogged through the water as he rushed along the side of the overflowing stream. In the cave behind the falling water, the blur of a pale blue dress stood out in the fading light.
Hannah waved her arms and yelled over the sound of pouring water. “Help me!”
Henry’s boots filled with water as he moved as close as possible to the rock face without falling in and being swept into the current.
Hannah stood at the cave’s entrance, ankle deep in rising water. Her fawn-like eyes protruded with panic. “The water is rising quickly. I’m trapped!”
She was closer to the opposite bank than she was to him. If he could get to her, he could guide her to the far bank.
The rocks along the recessed back wall of the waterfall made a path to the cave during good weather, but the rising water and lack of light made it impossible to see where to step. If he slipped and fell into the rush of the falling water, it would take all his strength to fight the current. He yanked off his boots and overcoat and cuffed his trousers. “Stay there,” he yelled to her. “I’m coming to you!”
Turning his back to the rock wall, he inched his palms along its slimy surface and toed the stones beneath the water, taking slow careful steps until he was directly behind the waterfall. Heavy spray covered his face and the fall’s roar filled his ears. He turned his face in Hannah’s direction. “I’m almost there!”
His left foot found the next stone and as he brought his right foot to meet it, the rock wobbled beneath him. He sucked in air, expecting to plunge into the water, but was able to regain his balance.
His water-soaked socks and trouser cuffs weighted his legs. He held his breath and felt for the next rock but instead of a slab of stone, the loose pebbles of the cave entrance shifted under his feet.
Hannah gripped his forearm and pulled him toward her with one hand while holding up her dress with the other. Water lapped at her shins. “Thank God you came! How did you find me?”
“Never mind that. It’s flooding fast. I have to get you out of here.” He glanced back at the path he’d taken. It was now too dark to see more than a few yards away. If they fell in, she would drown. Over her head he could see the bank nearby. “We can’t return to the path, but we can make it to the other side.”
“I can’t swim.”
He held her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “We have to get out of here before the water rises any higher.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“What if I fall in?”
“I’m with you.”
“What if I drown?”
“What if you don’t?”
Something warmed her eyes, replacing the panic with trust. She nodded briskly. “All right. What should I do?”
“Watch where I step and follow me.” He took her by the hand, her confidence in him bolstering his own, and led her across the water-covered boulder tops to the bank. His scarred hand throbbed as he felt along the craggy rock face, but the feel of her clinging to his good hand erased any mental complaint.
He moved slowly, checking his footing with each stepped as he led her from one rock to the next. With each forward movement, her quick inhales made him glance back. When his feet left the last boulder and sank into the bank’s soggy ground, he let go of the rock face and offered her both hands. She took them and stepped forward, breathing heavily.
Once on solid ground, she let go of him and bent down, propping her hands on her knees. “How will we get home from here?” She panted, trying to catch her breath. “The stream is flowing too fast to cross. We can’t see in the dark to hike up past the springs and cut our way through the forest to go around the water.”
The Uncharted Beginnings Series Box Set Page 53