Longings of the Heart (25 page)

She took a peek at the baking cake. Sweet-smelling steam rose into the air when she lifted the lid.
Thomas will be pleased.
She imagined his delight at the special treat.

After replacing the lid, she went back to the door to look for him. He appeared from behind a batch of bushes along the river and slowly walked up the drive. As he ambled along, he kicked a rock ahead of him.

Hannah waited on the porch until he stood on the bottom step. “Thomas, please take care when you’re away from the house. The world is filled with dangers.”

“Ye meaning the blacks? I’ve not seen any.”

“Yes. And other things too. There are convicts, and you’ve got to keep an eye out for snakes.”

“I do. I’m not daft.” He threw her a derisive look to go along with his disrespectful tone.

Hannah bristled inside, but ignored it. “Of course you’re not. Come in, then. I’ve made a nice lunch for us.”

Hannah sat at the table. But Thomas picked up his bowl and spoon and walked outside, leaving the door ajar. He sat on the top step and started eating.

Immediately flies and wasps, enticed by the aroma of cooking, dashed indoors.

Exasperated, Hannah got up to shut them out.
He knows
to close the door and should have the decency to sit down to a
meal with me.
Standing in the doorway, she said, “Thomas, you’ve left the door open . . . again. The flies are dreadful. You know better.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry.” He returned to eating. Hannah tried to push aside her irritation. “I set a place for you. It’s customary when someone invites you to eat with them that you sit at the table.”

He didn’t reply but kept eating.

Annoyance flamed into resentment. Hannah shut the door, harder than necessary.
So much for trying. There’s no pleasing
him.

Deciding to eat without him, Hannah sat at the table. She picked up her spoon, but instead of eating, she stared at her food, allowing her frustration to build. Finally, she set her spoon in the bowl. “I can’t let this pass. What will it be next? It is my responsibility to see that he grows into a courteous, thoughtful adult.”

She strode to the door, opened it, and stepped onto the porch. “Thomas, I’ve told you on more than one occasion to close the door behind you. I expect you to do it.”

He stared up at her but didn’t say anything.

“Also, I made us a fine meal and expected that we’d dine together. It’s extremely bad manners for you to walk out and eat on the porch.”

“I wanted to eat outside. It’s hot in there.”

Hannah stared at him. He could have offered an apology. “It’s hot because I’ve made you a special treat—a lemon cake. And if I can sit inside in the heat, then so can you.”

“Ye could ’ave joined me out here.”

Hannah didn’t know how to reply. She supposed that was true.

He looked up at her through blond strands of hair. “I didn’t know ye wanted me to eat with ye. Ye never have before.” He turned back to his meal.

His rudeness persists
, Hannah fumed. “Thomas, I want you to come in and eat at the table.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You’ll do as you’re told.”

He glared at her over his shoulder. “I don’t have to. Yer not me mum.”

“Why must you rail against me? I know it hurts to lose one’s parents—I lost both of mine. But there’s no call to be spiteful or rude.”

Thomas set his bowl aside and stood. His expression was hard. “How can ye say it is I who rails against ye? It’s the other way ’round. Ye can barely stand the sight of me. Ye made that clear right from the beginning.”

“That’s not true.” Hannah fumbled to find the right response. “I confess to having difficulty managing your sulking and your sour moods. And there’s rarely a kind word from you. Not even for dear Lottie who only wants to be your friend.”

“How can ye expect me to be friends with her? She’s a girl.”

“There is such a thing as courtesy no matter one’s age.” Hannah folded her arms over her chest. Thomas glared up at her and jutted out his chin. Hannah had had enough. “All right, then. You can spend the rest of the day in your room, and you’ll not get any cake.”

“I don’t care about yer cake. And I won’t stay in me room. It’s hotter than hades up there!”

“Watch your mouth. And do as you’re told.”

Instead of obeying, Thomas moved down one step. “No. I won’t. Yer not me mum. And ye never will be, not that ye wanted to be anyway. Ye never wanted me. It was only John’s pity that brought me ’ere. I don’t need ye, neither one of ye. I can make it fine on me own.”

Hannah was unprepared for his outburst. “Thomas,” she said, hoping her tone sounded gentler. “Of course we want you. And we don’t wish for you to leave.”

“Yer only saying what ye think ye should. But ye don’t have to worry. I’ll be gone the first chance I get.” His blue eyes were red rimmed and it looked like he was trying not to cry. “Why couldn’t it have been ye that died instead of me mum and dad?”

He kicked the bowl of stew off the step, leaped down from the porch, and ran as hard as he could. He sprinted across the field, cutting through a mob of sheep.

Her heart aching, Hannah sank to the step and watched until he disappeared over a rise.
What am I to do?

She closed her eyes and tears trailed from the corners. “I don’t know how to be a mother to him. Perhaps I was never meant to be anyone’s mother.”

Her mind carried her back to her own mum.
I miss you so.
Why can’t I be more like you?
She felt the comfort of her mother’s soft voice, her touch. She was nothing like her. “I need you, Mum. Why did you have to die?”

Opening her eyes, Hannah looked at the last place she’d seen Thomas. How far had he run? Would he return? And if he did, what would she say to him?

She pushed to her feet and slowly walked down the steps. Picking up the bowl and spoon, she gazed out over the field.

She felt lonelier than she could ever remember. She’d not meant to hurt him, yet she had.
I’m not the mum for him. Why is he
here, Lord?

Hannah moved back inside, set the bowl and spoon in the sink, and then went to the window, hoping to see him at the river’s edge or walking across the field toward the house.

He was nowhere in sight, but he was out there, somewhere, most likely sobbing out his anguish. “God, let him know he’s not alone. Show him that you love him. And Lord, help me love him the way a real mum should.” Even as she prayed, Hannah knew it was too late. Too much damage had already been done. It would take a miracle to repair the relationship.

She’d not realized how much Thomas needed her. She’d only thought about how much she needed a child of her own and not a sullen little boy. The depth of her selfishness revolted her.

Feeling sick, she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She could feel a headache coming on. “I’ve let him down so badly.”

Her mind went to John and how much he already loved Thomas. He wanted a son and now he had one. The idea that they could lose him was beyond comprehension.

Show me what to do, Lord.

18

John helped Hannah into the wagon. “You’re sure you’ll be all right on your own?”

“Of course. It won’t be the first time I’ve made the trip to the Athertons’ by myself. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’d go with you, but there’s so much to be done here.” He glanced at Thomas who was dumping feed into the pig trough. “He’s getting to be a great help to me. Maybe the rest will come soon.”

“It will,” Hannah said, feeling terrible about what had happened the previous day. She’d not told John all that had been said; she didn’t want to discourage him. She’d simply told him that she and Thomas had an argument.

Thomas still wasn’t speaking to her. And when she’d offered him a piece of cake, he’d refused and gone to bed.

“Try not to worry so.”

“I’m fine, really.”

John smiled up at her. “You’re not good at concealing your emotions, luv. I think your speaking to Catharine is a good idea. She’s wise and has an understanding of these kinds of things.”

Hannah nodded, wondering if John was referring to her being barren. “I’m sure she’ll be of help. I’m just sorry it’s come to this. I wish we’d been able to sort it out ourselves.”

“Well, that’s part of the reason for friends. We can be of help to one another, eh?”

“Yes. Of course.” But as Hannah considered the conversation she’d have with Catharine, her insides churned. It meant revealing truths about herself she’d rather keep secret. “I shan’t be late,” she said, lifting the reins.

“While you’re there, perhaps you and Lydia will have a chance to talk, eh?”

“Perhaps,” she said, but Hannah knew she’d do everything she could to avoid such a meeting.

John watched as Thomas headed toward the barn and then looked at Hannah. “I’ll be praying you along, luv.”

“Thank you.” Hannah took the brake off, but instead of turning the team toward the road, she asked, “John, why do you think our life has become so complicated? Sometimes I feel as if I’m trying to make my way through a bramble thicket. I didn’t expect it to be like this.”

“Like what?”

Hannah moved the reins from one hand to the other. “Things have just not turned out as I’d hoped.” She knew talking about it would do no good, yet she felt compelled. “We were supposed to have children, and I was going to spend time with my closest friend over tea, and my secret was going to disappear into the mist somewhere. And instead it’s—”

“Hannah, we were never assured of tranquility, only that God would see us through whatever life brings our way. I thought we’d learned that long ago.”

“I should have, with all that’s befallen me . . . and you. I guess I just hoped it would be easier.”

John smiled. “I wish it could be so, but instead we must find the good in the life we’ve been given.” He grasped her hand. “One piece of excellent news—Deidre’s not spoken to me recently. Perhaps giving her the bull calf put an end to it all, and she decided enough is enough, eh?”

“I pray so.” Hannah lifted the reins. “I’d best be on my way. The day is going quickly.”

“Safe travel, luv.”

Hannah turned the horses toward the road. The air was already hot and muggy, so much so that even the birds seemed quieter than usual. Along the river the air felt heavy and the flies were thick. Hannah slapped the reins gently over the horses’ hindquarters. “Come on. Faster now.”

Biting flies tormented her. They crawled on her veil and bit her exposed hands. “I should have worn gloves. My hands will be a sight by the time I get there.” She swatted at the flies, but they’d buzz away only to return. “This is ghastly.”

When the Athertons’ drive appeared, relief, like a cool breeze, swept over Hannah. Gwen and Perry met her as she drove up. “G’day to ye,” Perry said, taking the harness.

“Good day. You two not working?”

“We’re supposed to be.” Gwen smiled lovingly at Perry. “Actually we were sneaking a few moments together.”

“We’ll be married before long and then we’ll have plenty of time together,” Perry said.

“You’ve set a date, then?”

“We have.” Perry draped an arm about Gwen’s shoulders. “We thought March. Seems a fitting time for a wedding, don’t you think?” Before Hannah could reply, he added, “The heat ought to give up a bit by then.”

“That’s a long wait, four months.”

“It seems like forever,” Gwen said. “But I want my wedding to be perfect. I couldn’t bear to be fighting this heat and the awful insects. March is a bit cooler. The world seems lovelier then too.”

“Well, congratulations to you. I can hardly wait. I’m sure it will be a beautiful wedding.” Hannah looked at the main house and hoped she’d not have an encounter with Deidre or Lydia. “Have you seen Mrs. Atherton? I was hoping to have a word with her.”

“She’s on the veranda. I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see ye.” Still holding Perry’s hand, Gwen stepped away from him. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see ye later, eh?”

“That ye will.” Perry tipped his hat and strolled toward the shop.

Gwen looked up at Hannah. “I’ll go along with ye. Mrs. Ather-ton will be needing some refreshment ’bout now anyway.”

Hannah clicked her tongue and drove the wagon toward the house. Gwen walked the short distance alongside the wagon. “Ye’ve not been ’round for some time. How are ye and John faring out there on yer property?”

“Good. The lambs are growing and healthy. John managed to purchase a fine ram and some additional ewes. He’s put up another barn and several more stock pens. He and Quincy even built poor Quincy a new cabin, one that keeps out the flying pests and the snakes. And even with all this heat the garden is flourishing. I’m thankful to have the river so near. It’s a wonder what a bit of water can do.”

“Sounds like ye’ve built yerselves a grand place.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but we have made strides.

It’s coming along well.” Hannah hadn’t considered her blessings recently; she needed reminding. “God has been good to us.”

When Hannah pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the Atherton home, Catharine moved from the shadows of the veranda to the top of the steps. She cooled herself with a small fan. “Hannah. How grand to see you!”

“Catharine.” Hannah climbed down from the wagon and walked up the broad steps in the front of the house.

Catharine opened her arms and pulled Hannah against her ample bosom, then held her away and gazed at her. “I can scarcely believe you’ve come all this way in this unbearable heat.” She smiled. “But I’m glad you did. It’s been too long. I’ve missed you terribly.”

“You see me every Sunday.”

“That’s not the same; there’s never enough time for a proper visit.”

“How true.” Hannah’s fears quieted. Just being with Catharine made her feel more tranquil.

“Please, dear. Come and sit in the shade. There’s a bit of a breeze now and again.” Catharine limped to a spindle-backed chair and sat.

Hannah took a seat beside her. The porch seemed buried in greenery and flowers. The fragrance was heady. “One day, I hope to have a veranda as lovely as this one.” She breathed deeply. “The lobelia smells heavenly.”