please call me Hannah.” She swiveled her attention back to the little girl. “And you, too, Misty.” Hannah was so much easier for her to remember to respond to than Ms. Williams. One of the toughest things she’d had to do was not to forget her new name, which was difficult since it was changing in some way about every six months. “I don’t stand on formality.” She looked again at Austin.
“We don’t here, either. Do we, munchkin?”
“What’s for-ma-now-tee?”
“Remember a few months back when we went to Grandma Kline’s house and had dinner with all those fancy dishes and white lace tablecloth. That’s formality.”
“Oh. I couldn’t talk at the table.”
Austin frowned. “Well, Grandma Kline likes things done a certain way. She never believed children should speak till spoken to.” He moved to Misty and ruffled her hair, then kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t have to worry about that here. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” Then to Hannah, he said, “When you’re through, come to my office at the back of the house.”
“Will do.” Hannah scooted her chair up to the bed while he left the room. “Tell me about Candy. Why did you name her that?”
Misty bent toward her, cupping her hands at the sides of her mouth as if to impart a secret. “I love candy. I love horses.”
“That makes sense. I love candy, too. Maybe too much.” She patted her stomach.
“I ate too much once and got sick. Daddy told me too much of a good thing can be bad for me.”
“Yeah, he’s right.”
Misty’s pout returned. “I haven’t seen Candy in a long time. Daddy says she misses me. But I miss her more.”
Like I miss my mother and little brother. All Hannah wanted to do was hug them again. She’d never let them go. She could still remember the fight her brother and she had gotten into the day before everything in her life had changed. She’d never really apologized and told him she was sorry, not face-to-face. A letter wasn’t the same thing.
Misty hung her head and twisted her hands together. “I miss Mommy, too. She’s with Jesus now.”
Hannah laid her palm against the little girl’s arm with the cast up to just below her elbow. “Honey, of course you do.”
Misty sniffled and knuckled her tears away. “I shouldn’t cry.”
“It’s okay when you’re sad.”
The little girl looked right at her with huge brown eyes, a glistening shine in them. “It makes Daddy sad when I do.”
Hannah’s heart cracked at the pain she heard in the child’s quavering voice. She leaned close to Misty as though telling her a secret. “I won’t tell if you cry when I’m with you.”
The little girl’s forehead crinkled, and a baffled expression entered her eyes. “You wouldn’t tell?”
“Nope. Sometimes girls just need a good cry. Men don’t always understand that.” She wished she had someone who would understand her tears. Someone she could explain the constant fear she lived with. But most people would never understand. Her life was the result of a split-second decision that had wiped everything she was familiar with away.
Austin stood at his large picture window in his office staring at the meadow where some of his horses grazed. He closed his eyes and a picture of Hannah Williams appeared—green eyes like two pieces of crystal, a sparkle in their depths, long, wavy hair the color of cinnamon and delicate features shaped into a beautiful countenance. The kind of beauty that screamed at him to run as fast as he could away from the woman. His deceased wife had that kind of beauty, and her restless spirit had driven her to lengths he’d never imagined when he’d married her.
When he glimpsed one of the mares teasing a stallion even with two fences and a road between them, he knew he wouldn’t hire Hannah, although Saul sang her praises. Pivoting away from the window, he kneaded the tight cords of his neck. Ms. Hannah Williams was hiding something. He felt it deep in his gut, a warning he wished he’d had before marrying Jillian. A bitter taste coated his tongue. His wife’s deceit destroyed any desire to leave himself open to that kind of betrayal. All he wanted to do was bury himself in his work and concentrate on Misty getting better.
The sound of his grandmother’s cane on the hall’s hardwood floor alerted him to her approach. He wiped his expression clear. Everything that had happened to Misty had exacted a toll on Granny, too.
She came into his office, a smile on her face. “I hope you hire Hannah.”
“I know Saul recommended her, but I think I’ll pass on her. We need someone who is older.”
“I would want her even if Saul hadn’t been the one to recommend her. I was going to escort her here to talk to you, but I didn’t want to interrupt her conversation with Misty. I heard your daughter actually laugh at something Hannah said. Did you hear me? Misty laughed. I haven’t heard that sound in ages. I want that back in this house.”
So do I. But if he hired Hannah, he’d go against his better judgment. “I don’t know, Granny. I think she’s hiding something.”
“Check out her other reference. But I’ve got a feeling about Hannah that has nothing to do with what my friend said about her. She’d be perfect for Misty. That child needs her.”
“Still…”
“All of us have something to hide from others. Can you honestly say you’re totally above board with everyone you meet, especially the first time?”
“Well, no.” He cracked a grin. “I at least wait till the second meeting before giving them my whole life history.”
His grandmother flipped her wrist, her palm up. “There. That’s my point. I’ll keep an eye on her, but you know I’m rarely wrong about a person and I trust Saul’s opinion. The Lord has sent her to us. I know it in here.” She tapped her chest over her heart.
“I’ll pray about it and check her other reference before I make my final decision.”
“That’s all I ask, Austin. I’ll go get her. Try not to scare her off.”
“I’ll keep my growl to a purr.”
As his grandmother left the office, Austin twisted back to the picture window. A snowflake cascaded down to the ground. Here it was the end of February and winter still had its grip on them, probably would for at least another month or longer. This was a busy time at the ranch with the births of the calves and foals. He still had a few more people to hire for the spring and summer. He didn’t want to worry about who was taking care of his daughter.
Lord, if the other reference gives Hannah a glowing one then I’ll hire her. But if it’s less than glowing, I’ll take that as a sign from You to find someone else.
A sound—a soft rap on wood—caught his attention, and he rotated toward it. His quick movement caused Hannah to step back, her body to tense, her eyes to widen. For a second fear flashed across her expression before she schooled it into a neutral one, the tension in her body melting away.
