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His thin lips flattened, and his gaze gripped to hers as he answered clear and full. “You know I would not.” He breathed in deep, his chest rounding, and continued only after a long, heavy sigh. “Though your father has beseeched me these many years, I would not reward him ownership or nearness to you.”
Moving to the fire beside Ensign, worry clipped her tone. “He will not relent. You know how he is.”
“Aye, I do.” His expression sighed away, as if his mind took him to some place he would rather not journey. “If I had any indication he wished to mend what has been broken between you, I would have acted differently—”
“But he does not.” After ten years the pain still throbbed like a fresh wound. “I know he will never change. That he thinks only of himself. He cares nothing for me.”
Ensign reached out to touch her shoulder. “He allowed you here, Hannah. That says something, does it not?”
Allowed? A generous way to describe it. Releasing a tight breath, she leaned against him, and he put his arm around her. Her head on his shoulder, she stared at the charred wood in the fire, crumpling away the fragile memories and sacrificing them to the flames. “I suppose whoever has bought the foundry must be a man of great talent.”
“Aye, and character.”
The comfort of his embrace soothed the rising anxieties. “Well then, I shall trust your judgment.”
Quiet eased around them, Ensign stroking her arm. “I have only one concern.”
She craned her neck to look up at him. “What is that?”
“The only thing that eats at my heart is the thought of what will become of you when I am gone.” Tender, but nipped with worry, the answer spilled from him like water from a wintery stream.
“Gone?” Pulling from his grasp, she stood before him, willing his spirit to believe what next she spoke. “Heavens, Uncle, you will not leave me—”
His light chuckle stopped her. “I have many years ahead of me, ’tis true, but selfishly…” He reached out to stroke her cheek. “Selfishly I wish to see you with a family of your own. I wish you to be as happy as I have been.”
The tenderness of his statement baited the question. “What do you mean? I have never been more happy.”
His kind, worn smile lifted gently at the corners. “I should like to see you marry.”
A stiff wind blew across her heart. “You know I cannot.” Grinning up at him, she laughed lightly, a barrier against the tender memories that pined for recollection. “I need no one but you. Besides, my heart has grown so accustomed to this place I cannot bear the thought of leaving it.”
He pulled her against him. “Then I suppose it is a good thing the buyer has generously offered to allow us both to stay while he lends his hand to Washington…and upon his return, as well.”
She tugged away from his embrace. “In truth?”
“Indeed. He has also asked that I stay on and do the books for him.”
The goodness of God opened before her like a vast, star-filled sky. Whoever could be so generous? “We must give thanks for such a man.”
Ensign looked down, his eyes reflecting the glow of the fire. “That we must.”
“Who is it?” The question popped from her lips, her childlike curiosity warming her chest like a summer dawn. “You must tell me, Uncle.”
Ensign’s chest lifted and lowered, and she moved away, the question of his sudden silence being answered by the sheen of reserve in his stare.
She straightened, that dawn clouding with gray. “You will not tell me.”
The answers waited just beyond the kindness that lined his tired gray eyes, but still he would not speak them. “All will be revealed in time.”
“What? Why?” She stepped back, letting her arms drop at her sides. “Why can you not tell me?”
“Do not press me, child, I pray you.” He shook his head and rested his hands on her shoulders. “There are things that are better left unsaid.”
She blinked, trying to flush away the questions that crowded her vision. “Is secrecy your wish? I would not betray a confidence, if that is what you fear.”
“Of course not, dear one.” He glanced up, his neck working with emotion before meeting her gaze once again. “’Tis hard to keep anything from you, you know that. But this…this I feel is best learned in the future.”
“When?” Hannah glanced down, then back up, questions falling thick like the snow that blanketed the ground. “A week, a month, a year?”
