The shirt had a hole in the sleeve.”
Hannah’s eyes went wide.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “Mom bought that shirt for him before she died. He always wore it when he did the harvesting. And he had torn it the last year I was here. He never fixed it.”
Hannah’s auburn lashes were long and made her dark hazel eyes look striking. They were her most beautiful feature. But then, in high school he had declared her kneecaps to be works of art when he realized one day how pretty they were. It had made her giggle. Which had made him kiss her. Which had made her so breathless she started to hiccup. Which had made them both laugh. Mark wished they were back in that time.
“My father hasn’t called,” she interrupted his thoughts, bringing them back to the present. “He knows I’m working at the café this morning. He’d call if he had trouble.”
Mark didn’t have time to answer before he heard the door open that led into the room from the kitchen. Lois Wagner, the other waitress who worked in the café, walked out to the area where he and Hannah stood.
“Here we go,” Lois said in a pleasant voice as she held out a white butcher-style apron. She wore a red sleeveless blouse instead of a red T-shirt like Hannah did, but the middle-aged woman’s jeans were just as well worn as Hannah’s. Mark had gotten to know Lois in the past few weeks and he gave her a brief smile as she nodded to him. She was the one who had told him Hannah would be starting her new job today.
“The newest piece of our unofficial uniform,” Lois said as she focused on Hannah again.
Hannah took the apron, but did not reach to put it on over her head. “My father just had a traffic accident.” She spoke to Lois and then turned to Mark. “He wasn’t hurt bad, was he?”
“I didn’t see the other car, but it looked like a fender bender from what I could see,” Mark answered. “We could contact the hospital. If he’s unconscious, he can’t call anyone.”
“Oh,” Hannah exclaimed, sounding even more worried as she laid the apron over a nearby chair.
“He probably only has a bruise or two,” Mark said, wishing he hadn’t said anything about the man being unconscious.
“If you want to go to the hospital, you should,” Lois said as she put a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “I usually do the early shift by myself anyway, and Linda will be in at ten o’clock to help with the noon rush.”
Linda Enger was the café owner. The staff at the café always said they couldn’t ask for a sweeter boss.
Hannah turned to the other waitress, looking relieved. “You’re sure it’s all right? I don’t want to leave you shorthanded. I need this job and it’s only my first day.”
“Don’t worry,” Lois said. “We might not get many people anyway since it looks like rain. It truly is okay. You can start tomorrow morning instead.”
“I will check on him, then,” Hannah said. “Just to be sure everything is okay.”
“I’ll drive you,” Mark offered.
Hannah looked like she’d protest, but Lois spoke. “Let him, honey. I doubt you even know how to get to the hospital.”
“No, I don’t,” Hannah said, sounding startled at the realization. “I know how to get almost everywhere in the county, but I never drove there. My father always did the driving when my mother was there.”
Mark wasn’t surprised that Hannah had never been in the hospital because of any need of her own. She’d had no issues except, of course, her pregnancy. She must have been in a hospital then. Mark’s head started to hurt. The two of them needed to talk about the pregnancy. He hadn’t known about the baby when they’d had their last big fight. He’d been in a coma when the baby was born, but he still felt guilty for not being there.
“I’ll let you know how he is,” Hannah said as she walked over to the counter and, reaching behind it, drew out a small black purse with a shoulder strap. Mark thought he remembered it as one she’d had in high school. He was going to ask her about that but then stopped himself.
From the bits and pieces she’d told him long ago, the foster homes and institutions where she’d lived before moving to Dry Creek had seen more than their share of petty thefts. She had not managed to keep much that was her own in those days. After she came to the Stellings, she guarded her possessions carefully. She believed she needed to fight to keep what she had.
She never mentioned it to him, but he saw that she treated the people in her life the same way. If she warmed to a person, she’d stand up for them against everyone else. People were not replaceable in her mind.
No wonder she was still talking to her father, Mark thought. If he didn’t count Jeremy, Mr. Stelling was the only family she had. She wouldn’t give him up unless she absolutely had to.
Mark opened the café door for Hannah and followed her down the steps.
He opened the door of his pickup and held her elbow so she could make the long step up to the floorboard. Long ago, his mother had taught him to be a country gentleman when escorting a girl anywhere in a truck. She said the young lady would appreciate it. Hannah didn’t appear to think much of it, though. In fact, she scowled at him as though he should know better.
He was so dumbfounded that he just stood there a moment. She had never objected to his help. Not even when they’d been fishing and she’d gotten that long wood sliver in the palm of her hand and he had to pull it out with his teeth.
She couldn’t have changed that much. Not unless something really bad had happened. It didn’t take more than a second for him to realize he had been that bad thing. His coma had left her pregnant and alone.
He figured now wasn’t a good time to apologize for letting her down, though. So he walked around the pickup, opened the door and settled himself behind the steering wheel.
In minutes, they were outside town and on their way to Miles City. He couldn’t help but notice Hannah was looking down at the rose lying in the middle of the seat between them. She was frowning at that, too.
“Girlfriend?” she asked.
“Huh?” He was surprised, but managed to keep the pickup on the road. “No. It’s for you. For your first day back home.”
“Oh,” she said. “I thought maybe—”
She stopped and looked out the window.
“What?”
“You were gone so long that I thought maybe you had a girlfriend now. That’s all.”
“I wasn’t gone,” Mark protested. “I was stuck in a coma.”
“Of course, but—” Hannah started, but did not finish.
“I know I was still gone,” Mark answered. He would agree to that.
Mark knew he should say something more, but he didn’t want to give her a glib excuse. There was a time when he’d have been able to string together a convincing argument for his actions without even thinking about it. The bullet that hit his head had
