able to walk about a bit and sit up in a chair for an hour or so each day by then, so Conor carried her downstairs to the parlor to receive the priest. Hannah helped Conor settle Abby in one of the leather armchairs pulled up by the moss rock fireplace, then immediately excused herself and headed for the kitchen to prepare tea.
Conor paused there for a moment on his way out the back door. “Do you need help serving, once everything’s ready? I’d like to check out a few things with Devlin while Abby’s visiting with Noah, but I’ll stay if you need me …”
Hannah glanced up from the task of setting the tray with teacups and a plate of freshly baked raisin scones. She smiled and shook her head. “No, I won’t need any help until it’s time for you to carry Abby back upstairs to bed.”
“She’s doing well, don’t you think?”
“Yes, she certainly seems to be. When Doc visited the other day, he said another week or so and she should be out of the woods.”
A look of joyous relief shone in Conor’s eyes. “I know.” He gave a low, almost wondering laugh. “I’m going to be a father again. God is so good.”
“And I’m so happy for Abby. There were times when I’d catch her watching me and Jackson, and I knew she ached to hold her own child in her arms.” Her smile faded. “Not that this one will ever take the place of her little Joshua.”
“No, this one won’t,” he agreed with solemn emphasis, “but it’ll make its own special place nonetheless. I’m just happy I can give her a child of her own.”
Hannah contemplated the tall rancher with grave interest. She had never heard a man speak in such terms before. But then, she had never seen a man so in love either. God had indeed blessed Conor and Abby.
“I’m happy for the both of you,” she said. “You give me hope that …” The words died in her throat. Hannah blushed and forced a smile. “Well, I’m just happy for you.”
As if he had caught the true meaning behind her words, Conor’s expression softened. “Be patient. Trust in the Lord, Hannah. He’ll show you the man of your heart.”
Hannah’s face grew even hotter. What if Conor guessed she had been questioning her commitment to his son? “I-I didn’t mean anything against Evan,” she stammered. “I’m just so confused right now …”
He took her arm. “I never thought that. Besides, what’s between you and Evan is private. All I meant was you should wait for God’s will to be clear. Sometimes, if we’re not careful, we try to convince ourselves God must want something just because we want it so badly.” Conor smiled ruefully. “That was certainly a lesson both Abby and I had to learn.”
She wanted to ask him how one knew for certain when something was God’s will and when it was just selfish, misguided desire twisting things to seem so. But now, with Abby and Reverend Starr in the next room, wasn’t the right time or place. So, instead, Hannah patted the hand that still held her arm and managed a wan smile.
“You’re kind to talk with me like this. I’m grateful for this and everything else you’ve done for me.”
“And I’m grateful you’ve been here for us during these difficult times.” Conor released her arm. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”
“I was happy to help.”
Conor took a step closer, a sudden look of discomfiture darkening his handsome face. “I’ve never said this before, but I want to ask your forgiveness for my unkind behavior that night you escaped Sadie’s. If it hadn’t been for Abby’s insistence, I’d have sent you right back to the brothel with that bodyguard of hers, Brody Gerard.”
“Well,” Hannah said with a wry chuckle, relieved the conversation had changed tack, “though I didn’t realize it at the time, apparently you were outnumbered from the start, with both Abby and God on my side.”
He grinned. “Yeah. Reckon I never had a chance, did I?”
The kettle on the cookstove
Lauren Henderson
Linda Sole
Kristy Nicolle
Alex Barclay
P. G. Wodehouse
David B. Coe
Jake Mactire
Emme Rollins
C. C. Benison
Skye Turner, Kari Ayasha