“Do you have everything?”
“Yes, Isabel, I do. I’ve checked. You’ve checked. Olivia’s checked. Rowena and Serafina have checked. I haven’t left anything.” Except my heart.
“Well, if you’re sure.”
Hannah hugged her grandmother-in-law to her, holding her for the longest time. Tears squeezed out from under her tightly closed eyelids. “I love you,” she whispered.
Isabel held Hannah in her embrace as her ample bosom shook, but then she abruptly pulled back and dabbed at her reddened eyes with a balled-up hanky. All business now, she spun Hannah around to the wide central steps that would take her downstairs, past all the combined Garrett household domestics, through the front door, and out of their lives.
“Go on with you. You don’t want to miss your train. The infernal contraptions wait for no one—even if we do own them.”
Hannah nodded and tried to smile. But her lips wouldn’t stop quivering long enough to hold an expression. “I’ll miss you, Isabel. I love you.”
Isabel burst into tears, burying her lined and puckered, highly rouged little face in her hanky. She made a gesture for Hannah to leave as she spoke through her hanky’s folds. “Go now, or I’ll never let you leave. Go. I love you.”
Hannah stood still, staring at her. Towering emotion threatened to send her to her knees. She locked them, determined to get through the next few moments with a modicum of dignity. Just then, Esmerelda drooped out of Hannah’s bedroom. The mastiff’s ears and tail almost dragged the ground. She nosed under Hannah’s hand and then plodded to the top of the stairs, turning back to peer solemnly at Hannah.
With fat tears rolling down her cheeks, Hannah clutched at her handbag, and took the first steps that would lead her away from everyone she loved at Woodbridge Pond. “Come on, then. Let’s do this,” she told Essie softly.
With that, the unlikely pair proceeded down the polished-wood stairway, their footfalls and pawfalls echoing hollowly with each step. Hannah wished with all her might that she could look away from the sight at the bottom of the stairs, but there was nowhere else to look. Wasn’t it bad enough that they were all there, every last one of the domestics, all with their heads turned up to her, all with their sad gazes and their snifflings meant for her?
But even worse were Dudley and Constance by the open front doors. Hannah’s gaze flicked to Slade, behind them. So, he’d come after all. He stood with his hand on the knob, holding the door open, waiting for her to leave. Making it easy for her to leave.
Then, so be it. After the night of the ball, he’d stayed away, at his brownstone. Until this moment, she hadn’t even been sure he’d be here this morning. Looking him up and down, she noted he looked like hell. He needed to shave. His hair was unkempt. His clothes weren’t even the immaculate style she was used to from him. But it was his eyes. They were bloodshot and red-rimmed, as if he’d been sleepless. Or on a heavy drinking spree. But right now, no matter the cause, those eyes bored into her soul.
Hannah looked away from him as she stopped in front of Rowena and Serafina. The ancient twins each clutched the hand Hannah offered them. The old maids stared at her, their individual double chins quivering. But they said nothing. Neither did Hannah. She then moved down the line to each elderly chambermaid, each ancient kitchenmaid, stopping, saying her good-byes, squeezing hands, having hers squeezed. Mrs. Edgars, the hefty, gregarious cook, held her white apron up to her face and cried loudly. Hannah smiled and patted her shoulder. Mrs. Edgars wailed anew and aloud.
Then Hannah and Esmerelda came to Hammonds. All stiff starch and spit and polish, he bowed formally. Hannah’s stomach muscles clenched as she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Hammonds straightened up, keeping his gaze at a point just beyond her. “Madam, it has been my distinct pleasure to serve you. I wish you the best of—” He choked off his words, raised his chin, and went on. “I wish you the best of everything.”
“Thank you, Hammonds. You’ve been wonderful.” No one else but Hammonds could have heard her, so low did she speak. She moved to Pemberton. And her heart melted into a sloppy pool of emotionalism. The sweet, white-wispy-haired and bent-over little man took her hand in both of his knobby-knuckled ones. His rheumy, watered-blue eyes blinked up at her. “One thinks one will miss you most fiercely, Mrs. Garrett.”
Hannah nodded. “One thinks one will miss you, too, Pemberton. You keep Miss Isabel corralled, you hear?”
He pulled her toward him the slightest bit. “Could one perhaps leave a length of rope toward that end?”
Hannah chuckled and pulled him to her for a hug. “I love you,” she whispered. And thought he whispered it back to her. Then, she stepped over to face Mrs. Stanley and her sons, Jacko and Edgar. The two little boys, about eight and ten years old, stood solemnly to either side of their mother. When the housekeeper curtsied to Hannah, they bowed. “Mrs. Garrett, ma’am. You’ve been a joy.”
“As have you, Mrs. Stanley.” Hannah smiled at her and ruffled the boys’ heads, telling them, “You be good boys and help your mother.” They mumbled out their opinions of that, but nodded nevertheless.
Then, Hannah faced Olivia. Just behind her, with his hand possessively on her shoulder, was Rigby. In Olivia’s arms was Colette, the only happy, chortling one in the crowd. Olivia bobbed a curtsy and blinked back a wealth of tears. “I wish I was going with you, miss. We all do.”
Hannah nodded and held out a finger for the baby to grab. Colette clutched at it and promptly tried to stick it in her mouth. Hannah chuckled with Rigby and then spoke with Olivia. “I wish you could, too. But it’s best you stay here with Rigby. Where I’m going is no place for a baby.”
What about your own? Hannah swallowed the lump in her throat. She then turned to Rigby, pulling her finger from Colette’s grasp to shake his hand warmly when he stuck his out to her. “Rigby, I couldn’t be happier for you and Olivia. Take good care of them. They mean an awful lot to me.”
“Yes, ma’am. They mean an awful lot to me, too.” Rigby squeezed Olivia’s shoulder as she turned her smiling face up to him. The loving sight was almost more than Hannah could stand. These two had a bright future together. Unlike her and Slade.
Hannah stepped over to Constance and threw herself into the blond girl’s open arms. They cried and sniffed and moaned until Dudley’s heavy hand tugged on Hannah’s arm. She looked up at the big man. Unabashed by the tears that stood in his eyes, he pulled her gruffly to his chest and patted the life out of her. “We love you, Hannah—more than you’ll ever know. You’ve changed everyone here for the better. But especially me. Godspeed.”
Hannah drew back, holding both his hands. “Thank you, Dudley. But I didn’t change you.” She pulled a hand loose and patted the center of his chest. “You always had it—right here, future Senator Ames.”
Dudley pulled himself up to his considerable height and beamed as Constance clutched at his elbow and laid her curls against his huge arm. Hannah smiled at them through her pain. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t turn … not to him. But she didn’t have to, not right away. Because Esmerelda nosed her hand again. Hannah knelt down and gathered the dog’s massive head to her and hugged her tightly. Finally, she stood up. “Esmerelda, you’re a caution. And I love you.”
Esmerelda sadly waggled her drooping tail, looked Hannah right in the eye, and then turned, padding up the stairs to take her place beside Isabel, who stood with a hand on the railing and her other to her heart. Hannah faced them all, raised her hand in a half wave, half salute, and turned to Slade. She had no idea what to expect from this man—her husband.
Into the silence marred only by vagrant sniffles and quiet sobs, Slade straightened up to his full, heart-wrenching magnificence. His black eyes were unblinking. His sensuous mouth was unsmiling. He could have been carved from granite.
Hannah glanced past him and saw the waiting carriage outside. Sedgewick proudly sat on the driver’s box, looking her way. Behind the brougham was the young stablehand, Jonathan, at the reins of the carryall, which was loaded with her belongings. She looked back to Slade.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “We’d better go. You don’t want to miss your train.”
* * *
Perched on a tufted, overstuffed seat, set in an alcove of the plush, private railcar, Hannah sat alone, silently staring out at the Boston skyline. The city was wreathed in November’s late-autumn tones. Trees stood denuded of foliage. The sky threatened a leaden gray. Even the people at the station seemed downcast, seemed to walk with heads bent down against the wind. Hannah took a deep, shuddering breath against the wind.
When was this darned train going to leave? They should have pulled out long ago. Hannah felt sure this was a test, someone was giving her a last chance to change her mind. But she couldn’t. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t. All she could think of, all she dared think of, were Jacey and Glory and Biddy. She’d promised them to come home. They were in danger, and they didn’t even know. They needed her.
And Slade doesn’t? What about your baby? What about you? What do you need? “Stop it,” Hannah gritted out.
The train lurched. Hannah grasped at the seat’s edges. The whistle blew. Steam rolled back in vaporish clouds. People hugged, kissed, and hurried to embark. Finally. She was leaving Boston, just as she’d arrived—alone. No, not alone. Hannah’s hand went to her womb. I love you, little baby.
Not able to face Boston passing swiftly by her window, Hannah turned to look at her stunning accommodations, at the rich woods and elegant furniture. She finally rested her gaze on the upholstered and empty seat across from her. Slade had insisted she ride in style. She was after all a Garrett and now part owner of the rail line, he’d said.
She shook her head. What did it matter? Private car. First class. Coach. In with the luggage. It didn’t matter. She was too numb to enjoy the luxury. Would’ve been too numb to notice the crowded public cars, the jostling, the loud talking, the smells. Too numb.
The train lurched again and then rolled smoothly on its tracks. Slowly and smoothly. Almost involuntarily, Hannah looked out the window. Not one familiar face to see her off. Not one. Slade had merely taken her hand to help her out of the carriage, had allowed her a moment to say her good-byes to Sedgewick and Johnny, and then had scooted her here to this very car. He’d stood there in the doorway a moment and—
She looked now to the doorway at the end of the car, hoping against hope that he’d—No. The door remained closed, impassive.
Well, he’d stood there, filling the doorway, had stared long and hard at her, shook his head, said, “You’re even more stubborn and prideful than I am,” and turned and walked away. Just turned and walked away. What the devil did he mean by more stubborn and prideful than him? In what way? A drop of moisture splatted onto Hannah’s hand. She looked down at it, saw her folded hands through a blur. And realized she was crying.
“Oh, stop it, you big baby,” she admonished herself aloud as she dug through her handbag, pushed aside her peashooter, and finally found her hanky. She pulled it out and wiped her tears. It was the same hanky, without the burned letter in it, that had put her on a train less than two months ago. She balled it up in her hands, seeing again Slade wordlessly handing it to her in the carriage on the way to the depot.
Hannah looked again out the window, saw the city pass by, saw the pasturelands and the countryside begin. “Good-bye,” she whispered.
The door to her car slid open. Hannah jerked toward the sound and peered hopefully around the alcove’s wall. And slumped. Her own private, nice attendant stood in the doorway. He was smiling, albeit somewhat hesitantly. A middle-aged, ruddy-faced Irishman who’d introduced himself earlier as O’Malley, he now ducked his head respectfully. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Mrs. Garrett. But I’m afraid there’s a wee bit of a problem with your ticket.”
Hannah frowned. “My ticket? I didn’t think I needed one. Didn’t my … husband take care of everything?”
He nodded vigorously. “Of a certainty, he did just that, yer ladyship. Of a certainty. But I’m afraid we’re a mite more crowded than first expected. I’m needin’ ta ask you if you’d mind sharin’ yer ride—just to the next stop this afternoon—with a few good people?”
Hannah frowned. The last thing she wanted, in her present mood, was company. Then she thought again. Perhaps the one thing she needed was company. And it was only for a few hours. She focused on O’Malley’s cheerful face. And smiled. “Certainly. Show them in.”
He ducked his head and grinned, showing big, slightly yellowed teeth. “I’ll certainly go and get them and then do just that, yer ladyship. And it’s right nice of you to allow these folks yer car.”
Hannah sighed at the man’s gushings. “Well, you’re nice to say so, O’Malley.”
He smiled again and stepped back outside, closing the door behind him. He had to go get them? He’d acted as if the people were right behind him. Hannah shrugged and turned to look out the window again. She sincerely hoped these people were friendly sorts. And not loud, obnoxious talkers who’d make her want to shoot them before their ride was up.
The private car’s door slid open. Hannah turned at the sound and leaned over to see around the alcove. Well, there was O’Malley. And—No. Hannah gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. She suddenly realized she was standing. “Esmerelda! What in the world—?”
Esmerelda bayed and bounded to Hannah, jumping up to put her feet on Hannah’s shoulders, the better to knock her back onto the upholstered seat and slurp her face. Hannah closed her eyes in self-defense, and laughed and screeched as she batted at the dog. “Stop it! How did you get here, you big goose?”
“One believes she came in the second brougham, madam. Is that right, Hammonds? Or was it in one of the other carriages?”
Hannah started at the voice and opened her eyes, shoving Esmerelda down. What she saw sagged her jaw open as far as surprise could carry it.
Flanked by the entire and combined Garrett household staffs of broadly grinning domestics, Hammonds gave Pemberton’s question serious thought. Or appeared to. “Hmmm, I believe it was in the last carriage.” He turned to Rigby. “Or, young man, did you have her in the carryall?”
Rigby looked at Olivia, who shrugged her shoulders. He then turned to Hammonds. “I think she rode with Mrs. Garrett.” He turned around, looking through the now-parting crowd. “Wait. I’ll ask her.”
Isabel fussed and shoved her way through, until she stood in front of Hannah and irritatedly straightened her clothes all around. “Damned people wouldn’t get out of my way. Now, what’s the question?”
“Miss Hannah asked how did Esmerelda get here,” Rowena and Serafina said together, sounding as if they’d rehearsed it that way.
“Oh, that’s easy.” Then Isabel eyed Hannah. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly, girl. Just because my grandson is fool enough to let you leave doesn’t mean we are.”
She then snapped her fingers for Esmerelda to come to her. Which the dog didn’t. “Minds like the rest of them.” She finally looked again at the stunned, unblinking Hannah. “I believe she came in the brougham with Mr. Ames, Miss Wannamaker, and that stubborn grandson of mine. Let me ask them.”
Isabel turned to face her employees. And they parted as if at a predetermined signal. Constance and Dudley swooped through the gauntlet of servants, smiling and yelling, “Surprise!”
Hannah finally remembered how to work her muscles. Screeching in a purely feminine wail of joy, she jumped up and grabbed Constance to her and then Dudley and then Isabel and then Olivia and Colette and then Pemberton and then Slade and then Hammonds and then—Slade?
Hannah backed two steps down the line. And there stood that damned Slade Franklin Garrett, grinning like a jackass eating briars. He put his hands up defensively when Hannah’s hands went to her waist. “Don’t blame me. You try to deal with all these people.”
Everyone in the car laughed … nervously. But Hannah could only stare at her husband. And drink her fill of him. “What in the world are you doing here?”
Slade shrugged, ran a hand through his thick, black hair. “They came to see you off.”
Hannah narrowed her eyes at him. “I already said my goodbyes to them. I asked you what are you doing here?”
The private car got deathly quiet. Hannah cut her gaze to individual faces in the crowd. A few dared grin at her. She squelched those happy faces with an upward tilt of her Lawless chin. And then burst out laughing. “Oh, God, it’s so good to see you. I love you all.”
She opened her arms, trying to encompass all of them, and got hugged silly by the entire assemblage. That done, everyone stood around watching Hannah and Slade standing around watching each other. Dudley, Constance, and Isabel, who clutched at Esmerelda’s collar, finally took charge.
Dudley’s booming voice, as much as his herding gestures, moved everyone to the far end of the private car. “Come on now. Over here. There’s food and drink for everyone. Let’s leave the lovebirds to themselves. Come on now.”
In only a moment, Hannah was alone with Slade. As alone as two people could be with twenty others in their presence. Slade took Hannah’s hand and led her back to the alcove seat that she’d occupied only moments ago. He sat next to her. Hannah could do nothing but beam at this man.
Slade smoothed a curl back from her face. “Did you miss us?”
Hannah chuckled. “I haven’t even shot at you yet.”
Slade raised an eyebrow at her and Hannah caved in, launching herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Of course I missed you.” Her voice was muffled as she spoke into his wonderfully masculine-scented neck. “I was sitting here crying and feeling sorry for myself.” Just as suddenly, she pulled back from him to hit at his rock-hard chest. “You’re terrible. Letting me think—”
His finger at her lips cut off her words. “Shh. I told the truth—this wasn’t my idea. It was last-minute, and it was theirs.” He pointed at the crowd gathered around the refreshments.
Hannah sobered some, drew back from him and looked down at her lap. “You didn’t want to come?”
He tucked a finger under her chin to raise her eyes to meet his. “Yes, I wanted to come. Hell, I never left the train. What I meant was, it wasn’t my idea for all of them to come, too. We’ve been in the next car arguing about how far they can ride with us before I make them get off and go home.”
“But they said that Esmerelda rode with you in the—”
He shook his head and laughed. “That was just their way of shoving me into your view. I’m the big surprise for you.”
Hannah smacked at him again. “You certainly are.” Then, she grew shy, bit at her bottom lip. “What … what did you mean about arguing with them about how far they can ride with … us?”
Slade grinned and moved across to sit in the upholstered seat facing hers. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just that. They’re crazy if they think I’m going to let them go all the way to No Man’s Land with us.”
Hot moisture pricked at the backs of Hannah’s eyes. She blinked and took a heated breath. “With us?”
“Us. Me and you.”
“Me and you?”
Slade shook his head and chuckled. “Has carrying our child sapped your mental faculties, Hannah?”
Hannah’s eyes rounded in shock. The father of her child sobered some, ducking his chin and raising an eyebrow until he looked absolutely dangerous. “Uh-huh. Our child. You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”
Hannah tried a smile, but guilt wouldn’t allow her to hold it. “I didn’t know for sure when I first told you I was expecting. In fact, I lied. But I did know I was, when I told you I wasn’t, because I knew you wouldn’t let me leave if I was, and then I tried to tell you I really was, but you said you were glad I wasn’t, and then…” Hannah frowned. “Where was I?”
“I have no idea.” He kept a grave expression on his face. “I’m just glad you are. I said I was glad you weren’t, because I thought you didn’t want to be with me and have my child.” He stopped and frowned. “Hell, now you have me doing it. At any rate, the sickness, the dizziness, no appetite. I could tell.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow at him. And he caved in. “All right, dammit. Olivia and Isabel and Mrs. Stanley told me you were.”
Hannah snapped around in her seat to stare at the named women, all of whom were engaged in spoiling Colette. They knew? She hadn’t even told them she was. She twisted back around to her husband. “When did they tell you?”
Looking mighty sheepish, he scratched at his temple. “Just now. When they all arrived here.”
Hannah laughed. “You had no idea?”
He shrugged and managed to look petulant. “How was I supposed to know? I thought you were sick and tired from … from last week at Cloister Point. I’ve never been around”—he waved his hand in her general direction—“women in your condition.”
Endearing as his answer was, Hannah’s next thought sobered her. “Then are you here for me only because I’m carrying your heir?”
Slade cocked his head at her, looking as serious as a hanging judge. “No. I’m here because this train was carrying you away from me. I’d already made up my mind to follow you out West—whether you wanted me to or not—before they ever arrived.”
Hannah fought the smile that wanted to lay claim to her mouth. “Whether or not I wanted you to? You told me to leave.”
“Yes, I did. You have to go—I agree. What kind of man would I be if I tried to keep you here when you need to see to your family? But I also know there’s still a fight to come out in No Man’s Land. I would like to be by your side when you face it. But unless and until you allow me to help you, that fight is yours alone.”
He shook his head. “The truth is, I couldn’t keep you from going, not because I don’t love you, Hannah, but because I have no right to stop you. You deserve better than me. As I told you the other night, I meant to use you, to hurt you for my own revenge. I’m hoping you can forgive me—”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I’m the one who came here intending to kill you, remember? If you can forgive that, then I can certainly—”
“You had every right to think me guilty, Hannah. Every right. But it’s all over now. It’s in the past. What’s important now, and to our future, is … Well, dammit, if it’s what you want, I love you enough to let you go, to keep you safe from me.”
“It’s not what I want. Because I feel safe only when I’m with you,” Hannah said just above a whisper.
His black-eyed gaze softened dangerously. Slade looked down at his lap and then up at her again. “What about trust, Hannah? You have to trust me. And not lie to me. Ever again. I want us to be together. But I don’t know how to get there.”
Hannah breathed in slowly, deeply, and felt her heart thumping hopefully. They were so close, but one wrong word chould shatter their fragile negotiations. Being careful with her words, she said, “Slade, all those things you said two nights ago, about Garrett men and not knowing what you’re capable of, and—”
He waved away her concerns. “I’ve spent two days pacing the floor and not sleeping or eating. But I’ve gotten it all straightened out now.” His tense expression leaned him forward in his seat. His black eyes shone with crystal-clear truth. “Hannah, I’m not my father. I’m stronger than him. And unlike him, I love my wife. I have the woman I love.” He stopped and seemed to think about that. “Don’t I?”
Hannah’s soul warmed up as she smiled at her husband. But there was more she had to say. “I’ve changed, too. I do trust you. I have faith in you. How could I not after everything you’ve done for me? But more than that, Slade, I want so much to have someone to sometimes take charge for me—and of me. I’m so tired of being the oldest, of being alone with my decisions, of trying to decide what’s best for everyone around me, of—”
Slade grinned at her. “You want me to take care of you? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“It would be a relief if you would.” Then, Hannah bit at her bottom lip and blinked back her tears. “Do you think me a silly goose of a woman for that?”
Slade’s eyebrows went up. “Hardly. You’re the bravest, strongest, most capable woman I’ve ever met. The only thing that exceeds my respect for you—and that hair-trigger gun hand of yours—is my love for you, Hannah. Do you love me?”
“I do. With all my heart. And I want you in my life and at my side. I do.”
“Then say it.”
Hannah huffed out her breath, as if exasperated with him. “I love you with all my heart. And soul. And body. There. Are you happy?”
Slade grinned broadly at her, showing off his white and even teeth. “I am. Because I never want to be on the bad side of a woman named Lawless who packs a peashooter and two Peacemakers. Not that she’ll ever have any trouble from me. Especially since she’s a better shot than I am.”
Hannah grinned as widely as her lips would allow. “Is she now?”
Slade quirked a wounded expression and put a hand to his heart. “It pains me to admit it, but yes she is.”
That settled, Hannah spoke of her next concern, her next hope. “Are you really going all the way home with me?”
“Yes, ma’am. My luggage is already stowed with yours. Why do you think I put you up in a private car? I’m not going to share you with anyone after the first stop this afternoon. We’ll put all these good folks onto the next train back to Boston.”
Hannah lifted her chin and turned a playful attitude on him. “And what if I didn’t really want you with me after all? What would you have done then?”
He rubbed thoughtfully at his chin as he looked up and away from her. Then he lowered his head and gave her that black-eyed gaze that sizzled her skin. “I seem to recall once telling you that if you tried to leave, you’d have to drag my bed with you because you’d be tied to it.”
“Your bed’s not here.”
He smiled … sort of. “That’s true. But my heart’s here. You’re dragging it around now, but you just don’t know it.”
“I know it, Slade. It’s safe with me.”
“Good.” He surprised her with a sudden shyness as he cut his gaze away from her and took several breaths. When he finally looked at her, he became all brisk business, even to spreading his arms to rest them over the back of his seat. “Well, that’s settled—thank God. And I’m willing to bet that by the time we get to No Man’s Land, we’ll even have worked out where we’re going to live.”
Hannah hadn’t thought about that. Not in the last few minutes. She opened her mouth to speak, but Slade leaned forward again. This time, he took her hands in his and held them gently. “Hannah, you’re my wife. I made a few solemn, if drunken, promises to you when we married, but I remember them all. Mostly I promised to love you from that day forward. But I lied. I’ve loved you from the first minute I saw you. And I will always love you.”
He spoke with such simple elegance and sincerity that Hannah’s heart and soul were warmed in places that hadn’t been warm since she’d found Mama and Papa dead. That thought sobered her some. “I don’t know what we’ll face when we get home, Slade.”
“I know,” he said softly, his love for her shining in his eyes. “But we’ll face it together, Hannah. I promise you that.”