Fall 1890, the Braxton County Jail
Hannah’s days stretched into an endless, boring routine. Due to the “heinous” nature of the crime, the judge had refused to grant bail. Now finally, after weeks of waiting, the trial was set to begin in a couple of days.
Hannah agreed with Ida’s assessment of Andrew Lubinus. Tall, dark haired, and with dancing brown eyes, charm graced his every move. And his voice—smooth, yet at the same time commanding. Hannah had no trouble imagining him standing before a jury and delivering an impassioned summation. She was also aware of his ambition. It sparked beneath the surface of his captivating demeanor and flared whenever Louis questioned him on points of her defense.
The only bright spot of her days had been her growing relationship with Sheriff Winter’s young daughter, Essie, who was close to Willie’s age. The child helped her mother by doing chores around the jail. Hannah discovered that Essie possessed a sharp, curious mind and loved to read, so together, they’d spent afternoons reading Aesop’s Fables, The Prince and the Pauper, and Hannah’s best-loved book, Pride and Prejudice. Essie’s excitement over the unfolding tale of the Bennet sisters made Hannah feel as if she, too, were experiencing the book for the first time. Still, Essie’s companionship did little to heal the yawning hole in her heart caused by her separation from Willie.
Each time Ida had been allowed to visit, the conversation had centered on him. She had been relieved to learn that Joseph was steering clear of both the house and Willie. According to Ida, the boy was confused by the rumors he’d overheard about his mother, but well.
Hannah absentmindedly smoothed the skirt of her black dress. Andrew had instructed her to wear the black silk during the trial, but no widow’s veil. She’d still wear the hat, but thankfully the veil would not be covering her face. Andrew had stressed the importance of the jury looking at her as a person, not a lump of black sitting at the table for the defense. Ida was bringing the dress today, and it would be their last meeting before the trial started. Today was her only chance to persuade Ida and Louis to agree to her demands.
After crossing to the cot, Hannah picked up the document Andrew had prepared at her request. She clutched it tightly. Could she go through with it?
The sound of voices drifting through the open window suddenly caught her attention. The sheriff and Nora. She moved closer to the window.
“This is a travesty, Gus,” Nora declared.
“Nora, you’re letting yourself be swayed by Hannah’s kindness to Essie.”
“No, I’m not. Do you think if I really felt she was guilty I would have allowed Essie to spend time with her?”
“No.”
“There is no harm in that woman,” she insisted.
“Sweetheart . . . that’s for the courts to decide,” he replied softly.
“And will those courts be fair? Everyone overlooked Jacob’s ‘spells’ for years, and the poor woman was crucified in the papers after her arrest,” she cried vehemently. “What if it happens again? What if public sentiment is against her again? Do you really think she’ll receive justice?”
“I don’t know,” he answered softly.
Hannah’s eyes widened in surprise at Nora’s fervent support and the sheriff’s reaction. An argument like this with Jacob would never have included gentle words. A slap across the face was more likely.
“Well, you’re the sheriff. Do something about it,” she exclaimed.
“My hands are tied. Charles Walker is convinced she’s guilty.”
“And will do whatever it takes to prove it,” Nora shot back.
“Now, Nora—”
“What about Peter Ziegler?” she asked, cutting him off. “He hated Jacob. How do you know he didn’t slip in and kill Jacob while Hannah was with Willie?”
“His sister, Minnie, swears he was at her place all day, putting up hay, then he spent the night.”
“She could be lying,” Nora insisted. “He could’ve slipped out during the night.”
“Maybe, but there’s no way to prove it.”
“What about the knife? Hannah swore she’d never seen it before.”
“I don’t know, Nora . . .” His voice trailed away. “We checked and it’s a Sheffield knife. Hannah doesn’t have any knives like that. That pattern is still manufactured, but not that style of knife. And it’s old and used—there are scratches along the blade.” He hesitated. “Abe said that the knife reminded him of one his father had. His old man had taken it off a dead Confederate soldier down in Atlanta.”
“Honestly, Gus! How would Hannah get her hands on a knife dating back to the Civil War?”
He sighed. “I don’t know . . . maybe it was Jacob’s. Hannah found it and used it.”
“Ha,” she snorted. “If that knife is a valuable war trophy . . . As much as Jacob liked to brag, don’t you think he would’ve showed it off to visitors? He wasn’t in the war, was he?”
“No. In fact his wife was a Southerner. The story goes, he met her while she was up North visiting a cousin.”
“Gus, you have to fix this.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
“Go back out to the house—see if there’s something you might have missed.”
“It’s been weeks, sweetheart. If we had overlooked something, it’s long gone by now. Besides,” he insisted, “I’m confident that we didn’t make a slip investigating the scene.”
“Gus—”
Silence grew and Hannah peeked over the edge of the window.
Gus had his arms around Nora and appeared to be murmuring in her ear while he stroked her back.
Hannah stepped away at the sight of such tenderness between a husband and wife and felt a spark of jealousy. Why hadn’t her father married her off to a man like the sheriff? One who would’ve cared and respected her. She looked at the gray walls surrounding her. Her life would’ve been so different.
She glanced down at the papers still gripped in her hand. If Jacob had never come into her life, she’d never have known the joy of raising her son.
Her mouth tensed with determination. Willie was all that mattered now.
It was late afternoon when Hannah gathered with Ida and Louis around the jail’s small desk. Since her arrest, only her visits with Andrew had been private. Either Abe or the sheriff monitored the rest. The sheriff now stood leaning against the wall near the door.
Ida’s hand stole across the desk and clasped Hannah’s tightly. “This will soon be over,” she said bravely. “Andrew is confident in winning an acquittal.”
Hannah forced a smile. “I hope he’s right.” Her smile fell away as she withdrew the papers from the pocket of her dress. Unable to meet Ida’s eyes, she smoothed the papers out on the desk. “There’s something,” she said hesitantly, “that I need to discuss with you.”
Ida released Hannah’s hand and peered at the document in alarm. “What’s that?”
Taking a deep breath, Hannah then launched into her explanation. “Guardianship papers—”
Ida shot to her feet. “What? No—”
Hannah held up a hand, stopping her. “Wait . . . listen to me,” she pleaded. “Andrew may be confident over the outcome of this trial, but I can’t take any chances. No matter what happens, I have to make sure Willie is protected.” She frowned. “I don’t trust Joseph and I have to make sure Willie stays out of his control.”
“I understand. I don’t trust him either, but,” Ida argued, “is this necessary?”
“Yes, it is,” Hannah said as she pulled Ida back into her chair. “I know taking in someone else’s child is a big responsibility—” Her voice caught. “But Willie’s a good boy . . . and won’t be any trouble, I swear.”
Ida leaned over and put her arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Of course, Willie’s a good boy and we love him, but I can’t take him away from you.”
Hannah gave a bitter laugh. “If I’m convicted, the court will separate us.” She picked up the papers and handed them to Ida. “Joseph wants control of the farm, Ida, and if that means taking Willie to get it, he’ll do it.” She looked at Louis for support.
“She’s right,” he answered, stroking his chin. “As the boy’s brother, he could petition for custody. He’s closer kin than we are, so the court might grant it.”
Ida withdrew her arm from Hannah’s shoulders and sat back in her chair. “But—” she began.
“Please,” Hannah cried. “I don’t have a choice. I won’t have the strength to face the trial unless I know that Willie’s safe from Joseph.”
Ida and Louis exchanged a long look, then finally nodded in agreement.
Hannah breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the sheriff. “Andrew said this agreement must be witnessed and notarized.”
With a pained expression on his face, Sheriff Winter pushed off against the wall. “Ben Hutchinson is a notary. I’ll send Essie to fetch him.” He jerked his head toward the house. “Abe’s here, so we both can serve as witnesses.”
He opened the door and called to Essie. When she appeared, he gave her his instructions, then turned toward Hannah.
“Are you sure?” he questioned.
“Yes,” she replied slowly, “but I’d appreciate if everyone kept silent about this. I don’t want Joseph to know.”
Twenty minutes later, Sheriff Winter, Abe, and Ben Hutchinson gathered with Hannah, Ida, and Louis around the small desk. In a moment it was finished. Hannah had given away her son.