14

At least they’d arrive early. Joseph always joined Rachel and Andrew for a meal before the services. All he had to do was distance himself from Hannah before anyone else came. While those attending Andrew’s sermon might be forgiving of the girl and her family connections, he doubted their marriage would be as acceptable.

The door to the cabin sat open, and he slowed Hunter’s approach.

Rachel appeared in the doorway as he assisted Hannah to the ground. His sister’s surprise turned quickly to pleasure. “I’m so glad you are joining us,” Rachel said taking his wife’s arm. She smiled at Joseph. “Why don’t you stable your horse while Hannah helps me set the table? I’ll send Andrew out.”

“Where is he?”

She motioned behind her. “Reading. He’s struggling with what he wants to say today.”

Joseph frowned. “Trying to figure out the best way to call me to repentance, I reckon.”

“That must be it.” Still smiling, Rachel led Hannah away.

His frown deepened. His sister and new wife seemed to get along just fine, their temperaments similar. Maybe too similar. It had taken him a while to get used to Fannie when they’d first married. After living with Rachel for so long, he wasn’t accustomed to someone so soft-spoken and obliging. Hannah, on the other hand…she challenged him as Rachel did.

“You appear quite occupied with your thoughts.” Andrew stepped from the cabin. “May I venture a guess?”

“No.” Joseph walked the trail to the barn. The nearby stream gurgled, but not loud enough to mute Andrew’s chuckles.

“I am glad you brought her along.”

“At least one of us is.”

Andrew came alongside. “You would have preferred she had not come?”

“I’d prefer everyone besides us and the Reids to stay oblivious to the fact she’s even here.”

“And your marriage.”

“Especially our marriage. Don’t you think people will see it for exactly what it was? I made a bargain with the enemy for the sake of my life and land. While everyone else in this valley remains at risk. I’ll be a traitor in their eyes.” Joseph turned to his brother-in-law. “And you remember what happens when our good neighbors root out a traitor…or a spy.”

Andrew drew his hand across his neck and the scar from the noose that had once wrapped it. “But surely they cannot feel threatened by you, someone who fought and bled at their side. They will understand once the situation is explained to them.”

Joseph shook his head. “I’d like to hope so but would rather not risk it.”

“What do you intend to do with your bride, then?”

“I honestly don’t know.” He continued on to the barn with Hunter. “Unless you have a sturdy cord.”

“Or an empty smokehouse?”

If only that were an option, but Hannah would make him pay even more than his neighbors.

“She should count herself lucky,” Andrew replied drolly. “At least she is not under threat of being shot.”

Joseph glanced over his shoulder. A smile pulled at his mouth. “She’s my wife. Not some British officer overstaying his welcome.”

~*~

Hannah took a steaming loaf of bread from Rachel and set it on the table. Perhaps she needed to ask what Joseph enjoyed eating. He’d swallowed down the cornbread that morning, but it hadn’t appeared an easy thing for him. Many of the meals she knew were learned from Mama and her people. What if none of them pleased him?

“Why don’t you sit for a while?” Rachel said. “I appreciate your help, but I don’t want to risk you hurting your arm.”

“It’s healing well enough.”

Rachel set a second loaf beside the first and reached for the nearest chair. “Well, I think I shall sit, and I encourage you to join me.” She stretched her legs out under the table as she reclined back. Her hands smoothed across her stomach. “I tire so easily lately.”

Hannah sat. “Are you…?”

“I am quite sure of it now.” Rachel sighed and nodded toward the two girls playing with a couple of wooden utensils and a bowl on the floor across the room. “I hadn’t considered the possibility of another baby so soon, but Joseph’s Martha wants to eat everything she sees us eating. She doesn’t nurse as much as Sarah did at this age, and she already sleeps through the night.”

No wonder the three children had become too much for her. Hannah had helped care for the younger children when Mama expected another. Perhaps she’d been too young when Samuel was born, but Miriam had been like a doll for five-year-old Hannah. She had run errands for Mama and helped tend the baby. A screech from the other side of the room saved Hannah from the ache in her heart.

Little Martha gripped Sarah’s blonde locks.

Sarah let out another wail, her face turning scarlet.

Rachel moaned and pushed up.

Hannah waved her back. “Let me.” With gentle pressure on the baby’s hand, Hannah forced her to release the hair. Sarah jumped to her feet and ran to her mama, leaving Martha to Hannah’s care. “That was unkind,” she scolded as she rose with the baby. The wisps on Martha’s head were dark, but her eyes were as blue as her father’s.

“When she’s weaned, I think it best for her to be with her proper family—with her father. And you.”

Hannah’s hold on the child slackened momentarily. This would be—was—her daughter.

“We’ll take it slowly for everyone’s sake,” Rachel said.

Hannah swayed with the child on her hip as she returned to the table.

“And if you ever need anything, you have only to ask. We are sisters now, after all.”

“Sisters.” Hannah’s heart thudded. Used to being surrounded by family, the last few months had introduced her to a peculiar sort of loneliness. She clung to the hope of finding Myles and Samuel, but to be part of a family again…to belong...

“Oh, and please don’t say anything to Joseph or Andrew about me being with child.”

“Your husband doesn’t know, yet?”

“He worries far too much, as it is.” Rachel gave a small smile. “I’ll wait until after the fields are planted.”

Hannah glanced down at the baby she held, her daughter through her marriage to Joseph. Perhaps even if Joseph never learned to care for her, she would find the love she needed through his children. Perhaps even in her own children…

Martha looked up at her with Joseph’s studious eyes. While Hannah wasn’t yet ready for the consummation of her marriage to the child’s father, she did someday hope to experience every facet of motherhood. Even the painful ones. Mama had served as midwife for more than one woman after their return to her village, and Hannah had gleaned everything she could from what she’d seen and heard. What a wondrous process to be a part of—a perfect mingling of both agony and joy, the very heart of life. Perhaps when Rachel’s time came, she would let Hannah attend her.

Or maybe, if Joseph ever decided their marriage was real…if he ever came to want her in that way…

Heavy footsteps just outside the cabin tightened Hannah’s spine. With the baby on her hip, she helped Rachel finish setting the table. She ignored Joseph’s presence. Even thinking about him warmed her cheeks. Was it wrong to want a real marriage someday? Was it wrong to hope her husband would grow to care for her?

Someone touched her arm, and she turned to Joseph’s broad chest.

“I’ll take Martha.”

“Oh. Here.” She passed his daughter to him and stepped back. The propped open door provided no relief from the overwhelming heat coursing through her. What had become of her resolve to never feel anything for this man? Not even a week and her defenses already crumbled.

Meanwhile, his defenses showed no sign of wear.