Carol Arens - Western Christmas Brides

Guilt assaulted his stomach. What was he doing? He’d told Abigail more than once that making others look bad did not make her look better. Nor would it make him look better. Which shouldn’t matter because he didn’t want to look better to Hannah. He didn’t want to be one of her choices.

“Have all the eligible men in town shown an interest in Miss Burnett?” Hannah asked.

He shrugged.

“Or just the ones on my list?”

Teddy stumbled slightly.

* * *

Hannah had searched for her list. For a while, she’d feared the list had been amongst the drawings she’d given Teddy last week, but since he’d never mentioned finding it, she’d assumed it must have accidently gotten burned. Until a moment ago, when out of nowhere a sinking feeling told her he had it, and knew exactly what it was. The remorse in his eyes said she was right.

They’d stopped walking, and not sure what else to do, she merely held her hand out. He dug into his hip pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She didn’t unfold it. Just slipped it into the pocket of the button-up jacket Fiona had insisted she wear.

“I planned on giving it back to you,” he said. “Would have before now, but never had the opportunity.”

She couldn’t look him in the eye. Selecting a spot over one of his shoulders, she kept her head up, her gaze averted.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” he said. “I should have given it back last week, but—”

“But what?” She still didn’t look at him. “You wanted to make sure you had something bad to say about each one of them first?”

“No, I—”

“You what?” She was more upset than she was angry, which was foolish. Making that list had been foolish.

“I just wondered why I wasn’t on your list.”

The baby moved so suddenly, it startled her as much as his statement had. She placed a hand on her stomach, and he gently touched her arm.

“Is something wrong? Is it the baby?”

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “The baby is fine, and so am I. We should get to the school now.” She still hadn’t looked at him, didn’t have the courage to do that, but noticing his sister amongst the crowd walking toward the school gave her the wherewith to put one foot in front of the other. Abigail’s flowered hat was impossible to miss. Even the sight of the back of it caused a sinking sensation inside Hannah.

“We can go back to the house if the walk is too much for you,” he said.

“The walk is not too much for me.” She drew another deep breath. But all the deep breaths in the world wouldn’t give her the fortitude to tell him his sister was the reason he wasn’t on her list. The past few nights had been full of sleepless hours, and for most of those hours she’d contemplated what she wanted. Brett and Fiona were wonderful and would let her live with them forever, but she didn’t want that. She wanted the baby to have a family. A mother and a father, and eventually siblings. Her thoughts always led her to think about Teddy, and ultimately Abigail. And how much his sister disliked her. The people who would say that didn’t matter had never experienced living with hatred. She had. And she knew the consequences.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

She tried to hide a heavy sigh while saying, “I’m sure.”

Chapter Five

The children’s program didn’t last long, but what followed seemed to take forever. Teddy had secured her a chair, of which Hannah was thankful. The school was large enough for the children on a daily basis, but with the entire community in attendance, there wasn’t nearly enough room. People stood outside, watching the program through the windows and doorway. She was proud of Rhett and Wyatt, how they performed their speaking parts without a single mishap. The other children, too. She couldn’t help but think of the future and how her child would someday be old enough to participate in such performances.

That thought also left her unsettled. What Teddy said had been the truth. About Don Carlson, Jules Carmichael and Jess Radar. She’d already known what he’d said about each of them, and had determined none of them was a suitable choice for her. He had only confirmed her list was much shorter than she’d wanted to believe. And then hearing Rhett whispering to his mother had her thinking about other things.

After the children had taken their final bow, Reverend Flaherty, using words from Lincoln’s Proclamation, had led a prayer of inestimable peace, harmony and prosperity for all of Oak Grove. Then Mayor Melbourne had walked to the front of the room. He’d been talking for ages already, and under his breath, she’d heard Rhett tell Fiona that he sure was glad she hadn’t married the mayor.

That tiny whispered voice echoed inside Hannah’s head for the rest of the mayor’s speech. Marrying someone just so her baby would have a last name wouldn’t be what was best for her child. Or her. Finding the right man, one she could love and who would love her and her baby, was what she truly wanted. Love like Brett and Fiona had. Like her grandparents had. That’s why she’d loved being with them so much, because they’d loved her in return. Outside of their house, all she’d known was hate. Her father had been so full of it, it had spread far and wide. There had been no escaping it.

“Come,” Teddy said, taking ahold of her arm. “We’ll slip out the side door and avoid most of the crowd so you won’t have to be on your feet so long.”

“I’m fine,” she said in protest, but gladly rose now that the mayor had finally concluded his speech.

Hannah then shivered from head to toe when a squeaky voice sent an icy tremor up her spine.

“Teddy!” Abigail repeated.

He appeared to ignore his sister while walking toward the door, but once outside, he paused long enough for Abigail to catch up with them. Hannah forced a smile to form and prepared herself as she turned to face the other woman.

The glare was there. As icy as the tremor had been. Having lived with such glares her entire life, Hannah’s heart sank. She just couldn’t endure that again. Wouldn’t.

“I want an etching of the children’s performance for the paper next week,” Abigail said, never once glancing toward her brother.

“I’m sorry, Miss White,” Hannah said. “I didn’t bring any paper with me.”

“Abigail—”

“You can’t draw one from memory?” Abigail interrupted Teddy. “To hear my brother talk, you can draw anything. Everything.”

“You’ve commented on what an expert artist Mrs. Olsen is, too, Abigail,” Teddy said. “As has the mayor and practically every person who has seen one of her drawings in the Gazette.”

“That I have,” Mayor Josiah Melbourne said. “Every week when I read the newspaper.” Patting Abigail’s arm, the man continued, “You certainly can’t expect Mrs. Olsen to draw all those children from memory.”

Hannah figured she could draw a few, but not all of them, and sincerely hoped Abigail would agree with the mayor. Josiah and Brett had butted heads when it came to Fiona—mainly due to the fact the mayor had brought her to town to marry him—and Hannah certainly didn’t want to be the cause of Brett standing against the man again. Or Teddy. That would be even worse. Especially in Abigail’s eyes, which were narrowing and making her face all the more hawkish.

“I expected you to realize an event this large would need a picture to go along with my article,” Abigail said, holding up her pad of paper. Of course her pencil was stuck behind one ear as always.

“I didn’t,” Teddy interjected, “and I own the paper.” Taking ahold of Hannah’s arm once more, he nodded. “Now, if you two will excuse us, we have pumpkin pie waiting for us.”