Nate reached out, covered her hands with his and gave a gentle, comforting squeeze. The creak of a door opening drifted to him. He looked over to see Hannah stepping into the room. Her expression took on a worried cast when the young woman noticed them. She started to turn around.
“Please stay.” Alice’s request made Hannah change course, cross the space to the older woman’s side and she knelt beside her.
Concern filled Hannah’s tone. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You’re not.”
“Are you sure you want me here?”
“It’d be a blessing if you’d help explain what’s happened to my son.”
“All right.”
Nate stood and waved Hannah toward his chair, stepping away when she attempted to decline his offer. He walked off, quickly grabbing another chair and carried it back over. In less than a minute, they sat flanking Alice, each being supportive.
“Jed isn’t… coping well with losing his wife.”
“She’s been gone less than a year. Isn’t that expected?”
Alice smiled sadly. “Grief doesn’t have a time limit. My Harry has been gone twenty years and I miss him every day. It’s fine for him to mourn still. But…”
“His drinking is out of control?” Nate guessed.
“There’s that but…”
The older woman fell silent. After a time it became clear she wasn’t going to continue immediately. Nate looked to Hannah, hoping for assistance. She drew in a deep breath then picked up where Alice had left off.
“It’s beyond normal grieving. Losing Bessie the way he did devastated him.”
“The way he did?”
“You don’t know?”
“Alice was upset and we didn’t want to pry.”
“Evie had confided she was in the family way and Ben was nervous already. I thought it best to not share details,” the housekeeper offered in a whisper.
“It probably was,” Nate assured her. “And I don’t need to know now if it’s going to bother either of you.”
Hannah shifted in her seat, painful memories filling her with restless energy. “It’s still hard to talk about but… I think knowing what happened to Bessie makes it… easier to understand how he is now.”
“You’re sure?”
Over the last several months, a deep friendship had grown between her and Alice. The older woman had no relatives besides those in this house. There was no one who’d help her except, perhaps, the Rolfes, who Alice claimed considered her family. It was important Nate understood the situation. Once he did, Hannah would see if her friend’s faith in those people was justified.
Or not.
“I am.” After another deep, fortifying breath, Hannah began. “Bessie was expecting. She had trouble carrying a baby after John but that day she had made it past the months when she had problems before. She hadn’t been sick in weeks. I thought…”
Alice reached over, taking her hand. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I thought she’d be fine.” Tears welled up and Hannah let them fall. “So Jemma and I went to see my mother. She had been feeling ill for some time. The doctor didn’t know what was wrong with her and I was worried.” She paused, steeling herself for the hardest part. “I should’ve been worried about Bessie too.”
“Hannah,” the older woman chided her softly.
With a shake of her head, Hannah went on. “Jason said after their noon meal Bessie felt tired. Jed took the boys out in the field with him so she could rest. They found her collapsed in the grass on their way home hours later. While Jed carried her home, Jason ran to the nearest neighbor, the Hendersons, for help. She’d miscarried and kept bleeding. Dr. Benton told me that when he arrived, Jed was cradling her, rocking in the chair he’s likely sitting in now. She’d already passed on.”
“I’m sorry.”
Hannah wiped her cheeks with her free hand. “Thank you.”
“You think Jed feels responsible for not saving her?”
“Yes, without a doubt, and the guilt is destroying him.”
“Alice.” Nate sounded shocked by the sound of her despair.
“I keep hoping with time he’ll recover.” The older woman slowly shook her head. “But, the truth is, he’s getting worse.”
“He doesn’t look well.”
A moment passed before Alice responded to Nate’s gently delivered statement. “He rarely comes out of his room, doesn’t bathe, change his clothes, or eat. Mostly, he guzzles whiskey.”
“Perhaps a doctor?”
“He threw Dr. Benson out of the house.” Hannah grimaced, remembering. “The doctor refuses to come out again unless it’s at Jed’s request.”
“So everyone just leaves him alone now?”
Her spine stiffened. The redhead’s temper threatened. “What are you trying to say?”
“Easy.” His tone lowered, pitched to be soothing. “I’m only trying to understand.”
A silence fraught with tension ruled for a few seconds then Alice interjected, “I reach out to my son every day.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you don’t.”
“She wanted to come here and help him from the start but he refused.” Hannah wanted Nate to know Alice had tried. Memories from the weeks after Bessie’s death ran through her mind. She’d had great sympathy for Jed at first. But, as time went on, she’d grown both worried about, and frustrated with, his behavior. “When I wrote to her about his difficulties, asking her to disregard his wishes and come anyway, she did, straight away.”
“Alice is an amazing lady and mother.”
His sincerity sounded genuine and Hannah’s indignation on behalf of her friend eased. “Before, Jed spoke of his mother often and with great fondness. I’d hoped her presence would bring him out of it.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No.” Alice’s single word hung in the air a long moment.
Fresh frustration welled up. Hannah wanted to give Jed a swift kick in the rear for the hurt he was causing. “You’ve been a Godsend for me and the children.”
Alice patted her hand. “You’re trying to make
