Hannah's Dream (13 page)

"We must get her to my clinic," he said.

Dr. Lawrence's clinic was the closest thing to a hospital they had.  Margaret had supplied him with two hospital beds and other equipment found in larger facilities.

His carriage was in her driveway by the front door.  He and Pierre carried her to the carriage and placed her inside.  The doctor then climbed in next to her and drove her to his clinic.  He suspected Margaret had had a heart attack and he wanted her under supervision where he could monitor her.  In truth, he didn't believe she had suffered a major episode.  She had paid for his clinic, however, and by God, he would treat her there if it killed her.

By the time Louise came down for breakfast, Margaret had been placed in Dr. Lawrence's clinic.  The doctor had been correct in his diagnosis and Margaret was resting comfortably.  She would have to take it easy for a while, but the doctor predicted she would recover.

Pierre had followed the doctor's carriage and was glad to hear that Margaret would be fine.  When he arrived home, Louise was eating a late breakfast.  She eyed him suspiciously.  Ginny had told her Margaret had gotten sick while eating with Pierre.  Louise often thought he would kill Margaret one day.  She had a healthy imagination and frequently read dime novels.  Pierre reminded her of one of the villains in the books.

"Well?" she said when he walked into the dining room.

"She will recover," he said.

"What happened to her?"

Pierre noted the tone of her voice.  He didn't like Louise, but he admired her talent.  It was obvious she didn't like him, but he couldn't really understand why.  Women usually found him charming.  After graduation, Louise had become less respectful when addressing him and he found it irritating.  Now her tone was accusatory.

"She had a mild heart attack.  The doctor wanted her to stay at the clinic so he could watch her.  She'll return in a couple of days."

She glared at him as she bit into her toast.

"Good," she said as she chewed.  "Will you be going away?"

"I had no plans to go away," he said.  "And if I did, it would be none of your business."

He turned and left her alone.  Ginny brought her a cup of tea and put her hand on Louise's shoulder.

"I don't like that one either," she said.

Louise was still watching the doorway.

Chapter 21

The trunks and boxes were stacked on the porch when Hannah passed by and knocked one over, spilling its contents on the floor.

"Oh, my," she said.

She knelt down to pick up the items and saw a picture of a man dressed in a military uniform.  He was attractive and bore a serious expression.  Hannah turned the photograph over and saw the inscription "Yours, Evan Morgan."  Hannah had never heard of Mr. Morgan and she wondered why her mother had kept his picture.

Marian was in her bedroom sorting through her bureau drawers when Hannah came in.  She looked up and smiled.  Even in her work apron, Hannah looked lovely.  It was a gift to be young.

"Yes, dear?" Marian said.

"Mama, I found this picture and I wondered who it was?"

Hannah handed Marian the picture of Evan, and Marian blushed.

"How did you find this?"

"The box fell over and it came out."

Marian pursed her lips, then she bit her lower lip.

"Is he a relative?" Hannah asked.

"No, he's not a relative," Marian replied.  "He's a man I knew a long time ago.  Please return it to the box, dear."

Marian handed the photograph to Hannah and continued to extract items from her dresser.  Hannah knew from her mother's demeanor that the conversation was over.  She left the room and returned the picture to the box, but not before studying the man's face.

She had a beau before father
, Hannah thought.  The idea of her mother having a secret beau tickled Hannah.  She smiled.

"Hello, Hannah," Sophie Liberty said.

Hannah looked up and saw Sophie walking up the walkway.  She was smiling and waving, and Hannah took in a deep breath.

"Oh, it's so sad seeing all these boxes on your porch.  I just can't bear the thought of you leaving."

Hannah stood as Sophie climbed the stairs.  She then came to Hannah and threw her arms around Hannah's slight frame and pulled her close.  Sophie's generous proportions swallowed up the tiny girl, who fought to keep her nose above Sophie's arms.  She then pulled away and looked into Hannah's eyes while she held the girl's hands.

"I've never had a chance to tell you how utterly sorry I am for John's behavior.  I was so looking forward to having you as my daughter.  I shall never forgive him."

"I'm all right, Mrs. Liberty.  I've forgiven John and now I'm looking forward to going to Colorado."

Hannah hoped her tone would persuade Sophie that she was, indeed, all right.  Hannah had been upset when she heard of John's nuptials, but she had been so busy with moving she hadn't had time to think of him.  Now that she did, she found she truly had forgiven him.

"Oh, my dear, I'm so happy to hear that.  I will sleep better knowing you have moved on.  I just know you will find a wonderful man of your own someday."

Hannah's sudden desire to strike the older woman surprised her.  She smiled and wished Sophie would leave her to finish her packing.

"Hannah," Becky shouted.  "Will you come and help me?"

"I have to go, Mrs. Liberty," Hannah said.  She took her hands from Mrs. Liberty's and went to the kitchen.

"I wanted to rescue you from that woman," Becky said.

"Oh, she's not so bad.  She just thinks her son is the sun and the moon."

"And she was willing to let
you
marry him."

"I don't think it was quite that bad.  She always treated me well."

"There's just something phony about her that don't sit well with me," Becky said.

"Do you really need my help?" Hannah asked, changing the subject.

"Can you take some of the smaller boxes to the porch?"

"I can," Hannah said.

She stacked one small box upon another and picked them up.  As she was taking them to the porch, she saw Mr. Rousseau standing in the doorway with his hat in his hand.  When he saw Hannah approaching, he smiled.

"Good morning, Hannah," he said.

"Good morning, Mr. Rousseau."

"Oh, please call me Pierre.  I am no longer your teacher and Mr. Rousseau is so formal, don't you think?"

Hannah set the boxes down and straightened up.

"I prefer Mr. Rousseau," she said.  She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I was wondering if I might speak with your mother," he said.

"She's upstairs.  Let me fetch her for you."

Hannah counted the stairs as she climbed them.  She wasn't sure what Mr. Rousseau wanted to talk to Marian about, but she felt very uncomfortable in his presence.  Since the night of the ball, she had been aware that his feelings for her were more than platonic.  Also, Louise had warned her not to be alone with him.  She wouldn't elaborate when Hannah asked why, but she trusted Louise and knew her friend would not advise her needlessly.

Marian was closing a box when Hannah came to the door.

"Mama," Hannah said.

Marian straightened her skirt and ran a hand over her hair.

"Mr. Rousseau is on the porch.  He wants to see you."

"Mr. Rousseau?  Did he say why?"

"No, but..."

"But, what, Hannah?"

"Louise told me...she said I should be careful around him."

Marian walked to her daughter and put her hands on Hannah's shoulders.

"Why would she say that?"

"She thinks he...has designs on me."

Marian raised her eyebrows.  "You've never mentioned this before."

"I didn't think it was true.  Then at the ball, he danced with me and it felt...it didn't feel good."

"Well, let's see what he wants, shall we?"

They walked down the stairs and Hannah stayed in the foyer as Marian went to the porch.  She could see Marian shake Mr. Rousseau's hand, then she heard her invite him to the parlor.

"Hannah," she said.  "Would you ask Becky to bring us some tea?"

Hannah went to the kitchen and Marian led Mr. Rousseau to the parlor.  She sat on the settee and he sat on the wingchair.

"Becky," Hannah said.  "Mama wants you to bring tea to the parlor.  My teacher is with her."

"Which teacher?  That old woman with the yellow teeth?"

"No.  It's Mr. Rousseau."

"The Frenchman?"  Becky's eyes lit up.  He was a handsome man, that Frenchman.

"Yes."

"What kind of tea do you think he likes?" Becky said.

"I have no idea.  I just know I don't like him."

"Why?  What happened?"

"He danced with me at the ball and it wasn't pleasant."

"Why didn't you say something to me?"

"I didn't think it mattered.  It was one time."

"What did the scoundrel do?"

"Nothing.  He just danced with me."

"That's all?"

"Yes, that's all.  But it was the way he looked at me."

"You can't fault a man for looking.  You're a cute one, Hannah."

"But it made me feel strange."

"Well, he can't do anything while I'm in the house, so relax and take some more boxes to the porch."

Becky put the kettle on to boil and Hannah picked up a large box.  As she passed the parlor, she saw Marian nodding her head.  Mr. Rousseau was talking.  He could be very charming and Hannah worried her mother would be taken in by his words.  She placed the box on the porch and stood by the parlor door to listen.

"I'm sure you are aware that Hannah only just turned eighteen, Mr. Rousseau.  I'm sure you are also aware that we are going to Colorado next week."

"Yes, I know, but I wanted to let you know that my intentions regarding Hannah are honorable."

"I'm sure they are, Mr. Rousseau, but I must tell you that she has recently broken off her engagement and I don't think she's interested in embarking on another relationship at this time."

"I understand completely, Mrs. Dawes.  I merely wanted to let you know that when the time comes, I would like to be considered.  I would be grateful if you would give me an address where I may write to Hannah."

"As I said, Mr. Rousseau, Hannah has just turned eighteen and..."

"She is over the age of consent," he said.

"Yes, but she is still very young."

Becky saw Hannah standing by the parlor door when she brought the tea tray in and placed it on the table in front of Marian.

"Thank you, Becky," she said.

Becky rolled her eyes toward the door.  Marian understood that Hannah was listening.

"How do you take your tea, Mr. Rousseau?" Marian said.

"Sugar, please," he replied.

Marian poured the tea and added one teaspoon of sugar.  She handed the tea to Mr. Rousseau.  Becky was still standing next to her.

"You may leave, Becky."

Becky hesitated before leaving, and when she did, she stood on the other side of the door and frowned at Hannah, but Becky didn't leave.

"I will tell Hannah what we discussed, Mr. Rousseau.  If, after we arrive in Colorado, she would like to pursue a relationship with you, she has my permission to write to you."

Mr. Rousseau's face darkened.  Marian could tell he hadn't expected her resistance and he didn't like it.  She had only seen him in his capacity as Hannah's teacher where he had been cool but unthreatening.  Now, she understood Hannah's concern regarding the man.  There was something unsettling about him.

"Very well," he said.  "But tell her I am certain of my feelings for her."

"I'll tell her what we discussed," Marian said as she sipped her tea.

Marian was the consummate hostess.  She plied Mr. Rousseau with idle chatter about her trip to Colorado and how much she would miss her home of twenty years.  There was no more talk of Hannah.  When his teacup was empty, Marian stood to signal the visit was over and Mr. Rousseau followed her to the front door.  Hannah had retreated to the porch and Becky to the kitchen before they left the parlor.

He bowed and kissed her hand before leaving.  Marian gently wiped the back of her hand on her dress when he was out of sight.   Hannah noticed her mother's gesture and smiled.

She knows, Hannah thought.

"The men will be here in the morning to take these boxes," Marian said.  "Where's Jimmy?  We could use his help."

"I think he's playing with his friends.  I felt so sorry for him.  He's going to miss them so I said he could go."

"What about your friends?" Marian asked.  "Don't you want to see them?"

"There's only Louise, and she's coming over later this afternoon."

"Then we'll have to get moving."

Marian went back upstairs and Hannah sat on one of the trunks.  She glanced over at the Liberty house and the memory of John sitting on the porch railing came to her mind.  He must have been fourteen at the time, and he smiled at her.  She felt a tug in her chest and felt a tear sting her eye.  It was only six years ago, but it seemed like a lifetime.

Chapter 22

High Bend, Colorado

Work on the house had gone well and James was satisfied with Miles design.  The house had two floors.  The first floor had a parlor, a dining room, a kitchen, a pantry, a mudroom, and a study.  The second floor had three bedrooms and a bathroom.  As he walked through the empty house, he wondered how a woman would fix it up.

He hadn't wallpapered it or painted it yet.  He wanted Marian to choose her own decorations.  He knew she had furniture and he'd paid for it to be delivered from New Jersey.  It had cost a pretty penny to have it come on the train, but it was better than buying new when she arrived.  This way, it would be here before she was and she could arrange it anyway she liked.

He hadn't seen his sister in twenty years.  She had been a girl of seventeen when he saw her last.  Now she was a middle-aged matron.  No, she was a widow.  He kept forgetting that Randall had died.

He had placed the picture of Hannah in a frame on his parlor mantle and, out of respect for his sister, put the boy's picture in a frame, too.  He wasn't sure where the boy came from, but if he was hardy, James would put him to work on the ranch.  He could always use a hand.