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“Dear child.” He kissed her hair once more, then moved back, one hand still on her shoulder. “You must return inside—I beg you. You have been too long in this chill.”
He turned and started down the hill, but she called after him, the cold slowing her lips as she spoke. “Only a moment more, Uncle. I cannot leave her just yet.”
Ensign stopped and glanced back at the grave, eyes red. Not moving his gaze, he answered her request with a pained smile to hide the quivering of his chin. Wiping a stray tear from his cheek, he took in a long breath, blinking as if he still struggled to accept the truth, the same as she. His mouth tightened, and he offered a quick nod before striding down the slight slope toward the house.
The cold cinched harder, stinging Hannah’s cheeks as she stared at the earthen catacomb of her only and dearest friend. She looked up, blinking against the moisture in her eyes. She had Ensign, true. And Caroline. But her cousin was in Sandwich, and though their treasured letters brightened every week, Hannah could not fathom how she would endure every day without Bea’s smiles and humor, her light and wisdom.
Again, she dropped her gaze, recalling Caroline’s most recent pleading. Nay. She hugged her arms around her chest under her cloak and rubbed them to fight against the cold. Never would she return there, no matter how her dearest cousin begged, no matter how lonely the years ahead might prove. Sandwich was the place of her youth, the place of her formative years, aye. But ’twas the place where her past still lived and breathed.
She reached into her pocket, eyes trained on the clouded horizon. Circling her fingers against the memory, she pushed back the bitterness that pressed against the doors she’d hidden it behind. Here in Plymouth she had discovered the meaning of true caring, true love of family.
Hannah tightened her fist around the soft wool as the face of the one man she longed to forget filled her vision as real as if he stood before her. She looked to the house to escape the illusion of him, but it lingered, forcing the imprisoned emotions to cry for freedom.
’Twas as much your doing as his, was it not?
The wind whipped harder now, signaling the need to find refuge indoors. Loathing to part, Hannah blew a kiss toward the lonely mound, grateful, almost, for the distraction that allowed her to leave her post without weeping.
Walking across the snow, she gripped her cloak, shivering as the memories thumped harder in her chest. Ten years had passed, and still she thought of him. Foolish. For surely he thought not of her.
At the back step she clutched the handle, breathing away her past before she could enter. The light from the house peeked through the small cracks in the wood, like her hope that refused to die.
After all they had done—after all they had lost—and still her heart betrayed her.
She grasped the handle tighter and pushed the door open.
She had forgiven him, aye. But she could never, ever forget.
* * *
Waiting at the back door of the Smiths’ home, Joseph Wythe peered at his young nephew who stood beside him, leaning against his crutches.
Looking down, Jacob shielded his expression from both the snow and Joseph’s questioning gaze.
The cold flakes that had fallen without ceasing since last eve dusted silently atop Joseph’s hat. He tightened his grip around the laden sack in his hand and exhaled a heavy breath that billowed white in the midwinter air. “Cold today.”
Not looking up, Jacob adjusted his weight on the crutches and shrugged as Joseph knocked again.
“Leg bothering you?”
The boy didn’t answer. Joseph’s ever-ascending prayer filled his heart for the hundredth time that morning. Lord, be with him. And please, I pray thee, help him to know why I must do this.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the house only seconds before Kitty Smith flung the door open, bathing them in warm cinnamon-scented air. “Good heavens! Forgive me. Have you been waiting long?” She swung sideways and ushered them in before resting her hand on the swell of her belly. “Come in, please. Let me take your coats.”
“I cannot thank you enough.” Joseph watched Jacob maneuver his way inside, carefully placing his crutches on the first step before using his good leg to lead him into the house. Joseph followed close behind. Removing his hat, he closed the door. “You are sure your husband would approve? We are not inconveniencing you?”
Kitty smiled, hanging their coats by the door before taking the sack from Joseph’s hand. “You two are old friends. Nathaniel would be aghast if you had Jacob stay anywhere else.”
“But you…” He swallowed, unsure how to speak of the growing child in her belly without causing her to blush. “Are you quite sure? Do you feel well enough?”
“Do not worry.” She smiled in gracious gratitude and placed the parcel on Nathaniel’s desk. “I have never been so vital in all my life.” With a polite touch to his hand, she turned to face her new house guest. “Good morning, Jacob. May I take your hat?”
A tentative smile washed over his drooped expression. He removed his worn tricorne and handed it to her. “Good morning, Mrs. Smith. Thank you.”
She hovered her hand at the boy’s shoulder and led them through Nathaniel’s study toward the parlor. “You cannot know how pleased I am to have you.”
Jacob answered her kindness with a fleeting nod.
“Do make yourself comfortable.” She hurried a few steps ahead and shifted the rocking chair to the side, allowing him an easier path to the couch.
