When Love Calls (29 page)

“No, you aren’t.” Lincoln laughed. “What do you do with your time?”

“I have baseball practice every day after school. Then I see Charlotte for a while if her sister lets me. Finally, I go to the Opera
House Pharmacy and sweep up. It earns me a little so I can help out my dad.”

Lincoln’s heart softened toward the young man. No mother. His father gone all the time. Working into the night to help out his dad with expenses. With Charlotte’s big heart, no wonder she was so willing to overlook some of the boy’s obvious flaws. Did Hannah know about any of this, and if so, what did she think? More so, what did he think of this young man dating Hannah’s sister—problems or not?

 35 

Lincoln and George climbed back into the stands and handed the girls their bottles of soda.

“Thank you.” Hannah pressed the bottle to her lips and drew in a long swallow. Her eyes closed with apparent pleasure.

“You’re certainly welcome.” Sitting down beside her, he forced his gaze away from her face and back toward the arena.

The entire Fort Des Moines army regiment in full dress, including two all-Negro infantry companies, stood at the field entrance. To the patriotic tunes of the second cavalry’s mounted band, each infantry company took its turn marching in front of the military reviewing party made up of the regiment’s officers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’re in for a treat now!” the announcer’s voice boomed. “Let’s hear it for the infantry drill team.”

Even George seemed to sit up and take notice when the all-Negro drill team marched forward and dazzled the crowd by spinning, turning, and flipping their Smithfield rifles in synchronized movements without a single slip. Their unflinching drillmaster, a sergeant, never said a word.

The crowd roared when the pounding of horses’ hooves announced the arrival of the cavalry. At the front of the line, the first two mounts carried both the United States flag and the flag representing the second cavalry. The crowd stood in honor of the
flag as it passed their position. The horses circled the arena before coming to a stop at one end.

Hannah leaned close to Lincoln. “What do you think of George?”

“I’m not ready to render a verdict yet.”

“I want to like him for Charlotte’s sake.”

“I know, so do I.”

“But—”

He covered her hand. “I know. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

The announcer explained the cavalry would now commence their daring drills, starting with the Roman standing race. Two riders and four horses took to the field. Each rider then took off on one horse with an additional horse riding alongside.

Hannah gasped and grabbed Lincoln’s arm when the two soldiers stood up in their saddles. They then placed a foot on the second horse’s saddle and drove the two mounts Roman style around the arena. They crossed the finish line almost neck and neck.

“That was amazing.” Hannah let out a wistful sigh.

Lincoln chuckled. “You’d love to try that, wouldn’t you?”

“I would. It’s almost like—”

“Flying?” Lincoln kissed her cheek, and his heart swelled. He loved this woman and he loved her sisters. He’d do anything to make them all happy. “We’ll get you in the air someday, Hannah. I don’t know how, but we will.”

Hannah spread out the blanket they’d brought to Ingersoll Park. A picnic seemed like the perfect end to a perfect day. While George and Charlotte went for a walk and Tessa was off examining a flower garden, she and Lincoln had a few minutes alone.

“Mind if I take my coat off? It’s getting downright balmy.”

“Not at all.”

After shrugging out of it, he rolled up his shirtsleeves and lay down on the blanket. “I think I’ll rest my eyes for a minute.” He covered his eyes with his straw hat, and within minutes the steady rise and fall of his chest told her sleep had claimed him.

Poor man. He had to be even more tired than she. After all, he wouldn’t have gotten to bed until after he’d seen her home last night.

She reached into the picnic basket and withdrew the plates with as little noise as possible. She set them on the blanket and smiled at the man who’d captured her heart. Beneath his tipped hat, his lips pursed as he dozed.

Her gaze settled on his soft, full lips.

Heat tinged her cheeks. What was she doing? She shouldn’t be watching him sleep, and she certainly shouldn’t be thinking about his kisses while they were sitting on the same blanket. There was something so intimate about being near him as he slept. It was almost as if it made her extra aware of him as a man. Or maybe it was because she’d begun to picture a future with Lincoln, and this scene fit right into her mental photograph.

She reached into the basket and withdrew an apple pie. Naturally, Charlotte would make that, after George’s little fit about Charlotte not packing pie for the box social. Well, she certainly hoped he was pleased this time.

Glancing at Lincoln again, she sighed. George was a far cry from Lincoln Cole. Maybe the boy was simply young and immature, but Hannah feared he had a lot to learn about truly loving someone. She imagined his father, like so many men, hadn’t provided the best example.

Hannah recalled Lincoln’s promise about finding a way for her to someday fly. The idea warmed her deep in her heart. How did she get so lucky? It wasn’t that she truly expected to ride in an airplane someday or float in the clouds. It was that he cared that she wanted to. While he might be quite content to live life with his feet firmly planted on solid ground, he knew she wanted something else, and he was willing to promise her he’d find a way to make that happen.

She removed a box of sandwiches from the basket and poured glasses of lemonade for each of them from a Mason jar.

Lincoln pushed the hat off his eyes. “Were you going to let me sleep all day?”

“I figured you needed it.”

“But I’d rather spend my time with you.” He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He yawned and accepted the glass she offered. “Is that an apple pie?”

“George’s favorite.”

They shared a laugh.

“Did you know his mother is dead?” Lincoln sipped from his glass. “And his dad is gone a lot. The boy has a job too. He sweeps up in the evenings at a pharmacy.”

“You learned all that when you were getting the Cokes?”

He nodded. “Kind of makes me want to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“I do too, for Charlotte’s sake and for his, but she’s simply not herself when she’s with him.” She sighed. “No, it’s more than that. She hides her true self.”

“Well, you’re in no danger of hiding your true self from me.” Lincoln chuckled, then took her hand. “However, I do worry you’re hiding some of your true self from the world.”

She stiffened. What was Lincoln talking about? “Pardon me?”

“You’re not a switchboard operator. There’s nothing wrong with being one, but that’s not what you were meant to be.”

The tender look in his eyes made her relax a bit. “And what exactly was I meant to be?”

“What do you think?” He drew circles on the soft flesh of her palm.

“None of us knows for certain. Just because I like to argue doesn’t mean I’d make a good attorney. In fact, maybe I’d be an awful one. Then what would you think?”

He grinned. “You’d be outstanding. Charlotte is passionate about pies, and you’re passionate about right and wrong.”

She pulled her hand free and grabbed the box of sandwiches. “Well, that dream has to die.”

“For now, but not forever.”

“Lincoln, please don’t make me want it more than I already do.”

George and Charlotte walked up, followed by Tessa. All three sat
down on the quilt, Hannah disbursed the sandwiches, and Lincoln offered a blessing.

After one bite of the succulent roast beef in between two slices of soft bread, Hannah complimented her sister. No one else could make a sandwich turn out so delicious.

When they’d finished their sandwiches, Charlotte cut the pie and loaded slices onto their plates. Hannah smiled as Charlotte scooped an extra-large piece onto George’s plate, and he thanked her.

Lincoln forked a bite and moaned. “This is amazing.” He raised his glass. “A toast to Charlotte and her culinary skills. Fannie Farmer’s School will be lucky to get you.”

Charlotte looked at George and then at Hannah.

“Tell them.” George nudged her arm.

Tessa dropped her sandwich to her lap. “Tell us what?”

“I’m not going to go away to school. George says I already know everything I need to.”

“So she’s going to stay in Des Moines with me.” George puffed out his chest. “Right where she belongs.”

“Over my dead body!” Hannah drew back her plate, ready to hurl it in George’s face.

“Easy, there.” Lincoln grabbed her wrist. “Son, I think you and I should go for a walk.”

“But I’m not done with my pie.”

Lincoln snagged it out of his hand and passed it to Charlotte. Hooking the boy’s arm, he hauled him to his feet. “I think it’s in your best interest to come with me.”

“Why?” He struggled to get his footing.

“Because Charlotte’s switchboard-operating sister may disconnect you for good.”

 36 

Charlotte glared at her older sister sitting across from her on the blanket. For the last five minutes, they’d sat in silence with their gazes locked. As far as she was concerned, they could sit there all day. She was not giving up George, and no one was going to convince her otherwise.

“Okay.” Tessa stood up and looked at Hannah. “I’ll say it if you won’t.” She turned to Charlotte. “Sister, you’ve sniffed one too many sheets of burnt cookies.”

Charlotte scowled.

“What are you talking about?” Hannah unfolded her legs and stood.

“I’m talking about Charlotte. Her bread isn’t baked. Her pie ain’t got all its slices.” She held out her hands, palms upward, as if she were offering Hannah the answer.

Hannah held up her hand. “That’s enough.”

Tessa plunged on. “I think she fell out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down.”

“I said stop.” But the corner of Hannah’s lip lifted ever so slightly.

Charlotte’s simmering anger came to a boil. “I think you’ve made your point, little sister.” She grabbed the empty plates and thrust them into the basket. “I don’t care what you or Hannah or Lincoln or anyone else thinks.”

“No, you only care what George thinks.” Hannah’s words were laced with sarcasm.

Charlotte tossed the contents of one of the glasses into the grass. “Why can’t you let me make my own decisions?”

“Your own decisions?” Hannah picked up the other glasses and stacked them. “You haven’t thought for yourself since George walked into your life. The Charlotte I know wouldn’t jump when a fellow said boo, wouldn’t cry when he didn’t like the dessert she made, and would never sell out her dreams for some fellow.”

“You’re willing to become a politician’s wife.” Charlotte could tell her words punched hard.

“That’s different. Besides, we’re talking about you.” Hannah handed the stack of glasses to Charlotte. “Why are you doing this? Is this what you really want?”

Without wrapping them, she set the glasses in the basket. They rattled against the plates, but she didn’t care. “George says—”

“No! Not George. You. Do you know what you want anymore? Do you even know who you are?”

Charlotte blinked. Did she?

She stood and shook out the blanket. She folded it in half. Again. And again. Then hugged the quilt to her chest. Of course she knew who she was. She was George’s girl. He needed her. She belonged with him. Didn’t Hannah understand how much she needed George—especially now? Didn’t Hannah feel the same grief-weary emptiness that she did? Isn’t that why she’d turned to Lincoln?

“Do you think he loves you?” Hannah eased the quilt from her arms, her voice now back to its soothing, velvet sound. “Has he kissed you? Is that why you’re willing to do whatever he wants?”

Charlotte’s hand shot to her mouth, her stomach roiling at the memory of that awful stolen kiss. But that had been her fault. If she’d let him kiss her willingly, he wouldn’t have gone to such extremes.

“Charlotte, honey, how do you know he cares about you?”

Tears flooded Charlotte’s eyes. He cared. Couldn’t Hannah
at least see that? Hurt and anger exploded inside her. “He’s here putting up with you, isn’t he?”

Hannah reeled back as if she’d been slapped. “I think we should discuss this more later.”

“There’s nothing to discuss. It’s my life and my choice.” She tipped her chin in the air. Her decision was final.

Tessa grabbed Charlotte’s arm. “But we promised to support each other’s dreams.”

“And what if my dream is to marry George? Are you going to support that?”

“No, we aren’t.” Hannah shook her head. “Not unless you find yourself again. You can’t let George or anyone else define you.”

“You’re not my mother!”

“But I’m your sister.” Tears pooled in her hazel eyes. “And I love you enough to tell you the truth, even if it hurts.”

Lincoln and George returned, and Charlotte sighed with relief. However, George didn’t move to join her. He didn’t even meet her gaze.

Had Lincoln and Hannah ruined everything?

Hannah touched the tip of her jack to the rim of the plug. Hearing a sharp click, she let the cord retract and spoke into her receiver. “I’m sorry, sir. That line is busy at the moment.”

“Can’t you break into their call?”

“Is it an emergency, sir?”

“No, I guess not. I’ll ring them in a little while.”

“I’ll ring you when the line is free.” She made a note of the caller’s number on her tablet. “Thank you.”

She waved goodbye to Jo, who was off for her break, then leaned back in her chair and rubbed the back of her neck. After a nearly silent streetcar ride home on Saturday, tensions remained high into the night and on Sunday.

Before Lincoln left Saturday evening, he explained he’d told George that he and Charlotte needed a little vacation from each
other. Lincoln told him not to come around for two weeks, but he could write her. He’d even given George ten cents for postage.

“I know I should have talked it over with you first,” Lincoln had told her. “But I thought if she had a little space from him, she might start seeing things clearly. I don’t think he’s a bad kid, but he’s young and selfish.”

At first Hannah bristled at his taking control of the situation, but the more she thought about it, the more she admired Lincoln’s willingness to do so and his gentle way of dealing with both Charlotte and George.

If only she had been as gentle.

Charlotte had gone to their bedroom and locked the door as soon as they’d gotten home that day. After Tessa threatened to go in the kitchen and rearrange every spice in the cupboard, she had finally let them in to go to bed.

Even Sunday’s sermon hadn’t helped. The preacher had talked about how often love demands making tough choices, including leaving people and places you care about or risking your heart or your pride. Hannah’s thoughts had wandered back to the story of Ruth and Naomi and how Ruth had left her homeland because she loved her mother-in-law. She’d also taken a huge risk. Her chances of finding love in a new country as an outsider were slim, and in that day, no husband meant a life of poverty.

The preacher pointed out the choices Jonathan made to be loyal to David even when his father wanted to kill David, and Queen Esther risking her life by going before the king to save her people.

“At some point,” Brother Molden had said, “you will be faced with a choice where there seems no right answer. Love demands you put others’ needs before your own. Love demands you make the tough choice, even if it costs you.”

Suddenly the light for one of the second-floor courtrooms lit on the switchboard. How strange. The court seldom used the phone when in session. Hannah inserted a jack into the plug. “Number, please.”

“We need the police up here now!” Urgency in the caller’s voice made Hannah’s skin prickle.

A loud bang rang out.

“Hello? Hello?” She tried to raise a response. No one responded, but she heard scuffling and shouting.

Her pulse raced and the room tilted. Where was Lincoln? Didn’t he say he had court this morning?

Fighting her panic, she sucked in a breath and jammed the jack into the police department’s plug. She rang them hard.

“Sergeant Griffin.”

“This is the courthouse switchboard operator, and we have an emergency. There’s a dire need for assistance in one of the upstairs courtrooms. They requested I telephone the police, and then I believe I heard a gunshot.”

“Miss, could it have been something else? Perhaps a chair falling over?”

“No, it wasn’t a chair!” If she could grab the man and pull him through the telephone lines, she would.

“Easy, ma’am. Which courtroom?”

She relayed the data.

“I’ll send someone right away.”

Cupping her hand over the earpiece, she listened for anything that might indicate if Lincoln was there or even a hint of what was now going on in the courtroom.

Two policemen burst through the front doors. Footsteps pounding, they raced across the first floor and up the marble staircase.

More movement and muffled voices came through the telephone line.

A clatter in her ear told her someone had picked up the earpiece. “Are you still there?” the previous caller asked.

“Yes, this is the operator.”

“We need a doctor up here.”

“Who’s hurt?” Her voice cracked. She prayed it wasn’t Lincoln.

“One of the lawyers got a little roughed up while we were wresting the bailiff’s gun away from the suspect.” He paused.

“How bad is it?”

“Well, he’ll probably go away for a long time now.”

“No, I mean how badly is the attorney hurt?”

“Nothing too serious.”

Click.
He hung up his receiver.

Only her training kept Hannah from racing up the stairs and seeing who the injured man was and what the caller had meant by “nothing too serious.” Her fingers trembled as she placed a call to the nearest doctor.

She jolted when Jo opened the Dutch door and stepped inside. She carried a bouquet of pink and white peonies that filled the air with their sweet scent.

“Everything all right, Hannah?” Jo eyed her critically. “You look like a ghost.”

“There was an emergency upstairs.” Hannah quickly covered her mouth. “I shouldn’t have told you that, right?”

Jo smiled. “If there’s an emergency, I think you should share it with me.”

“Someone shot a gun upstairs in one of the courtrooms. I’ve telephoned the police, but I don’t know what’s transpired since then.”

“And you don’t know if your Lincoln is up there?”

Tears pricked Hannah’s eyes.

“Then why are you sitting here? Go.” Jo made a shooing motion with her hands. “I’ll handle things.”

Without a second thought, Hannah discarded her headset and hurried out of the tiny room. Once in the foyer, she gathered her skirt in her fist and rushed toward the stairs.