Woman of Grace (5 page)

“How terrible.”

“Yes,” was Hannah’s stark reply.

She scanned the room. Her gaze snagged on Jackson, who sat near the window engrossed in play with Mary and Devlin Jr. Each time the three children built a tower of blocks, one immediately knocked it over to the accompaniment of much squealing and shouting from the others.

Outside huge, fat flakes drifted past the frost-edged, glass panes. With each blustering gust, the wind sent the snow twirling in a wild, white, blinding dance. From time to time the house timbers rattled, and the wind shrieked high along the roof.

It was a good day to stay inside, Hannah thought, safely snug and cozy warm from the heat radiating from the big kitchen cookstove. At times like this the old life, rife with bitter recollections, seemed far away. This room, alive with love, hope, and children’s laughter, was all that mattered.

“Unlike poor Hu Yung,” Ella observed, meeting Hannah’s gaze with a wise one of her own, “you have so much to live for.” She shifted in bed, raising herself up. “I know Jackson makes you happy. I can see it in your eyes every time you look at him. But I’m not always so sure how happy you are being
here,
at Culdee Creek.”

Bemused, Hannah turned to face her. “I don’t understand why you’d say that. If it weren’t for Abby and the life she’s given me here … well, I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened to me and Jackson.”

“I know you’re grateful to Abby, Hannah.” Ella’s gaze locked with hers. “It’s just that there always seems a tension in you, a tension …” She sighed. “A tension I particularly note whenever you and Devlin are together.”

The blood drained from Hannah’s face. For a fleeting instant the room whirled before her. She felt sick, dizzy.

She had dreaded this would happen someday. Dreaded the inevitable confrontation over her past involvement with Ella’s husband, even as she did her best to deny its existence. This was why she had yet to confront Devlin to iron things out between them. She supposed she had secretly, if foolishly, hoped the whole, horrible mess would just go away.

“I reckon he doesn’t care for women like me,” she forced herself to reply, knowing Ella expected some sort of answer. “Some folk don’t think a fallen woman can ever reform.”

“Perhaps,” her friend admitted. “But I think there’s more to it than that.” Ella paused. “There is, isn’t there, Hannah?”

Suddenly, she couldn’t bear to meet Ella’s piercing gaze. A wild impulse to rise and run from the room filled her. But Hannah knew it was already too late. She looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do. You were one of the women Devlin called on, weren’t you, when he went to Sadie Fleming’s?”

Ever so slowly, Hannah turned back. So, she thought with a curious mixture of anguish and relief, the secret was out at last. Ella
did
know about Devlin’s unfaithfulness.

“Don’t you think that’s a question better asked of your husband?” Her words came out a husky whisper.

“It
is
a question I must ask of him,” the red-haired woman agreed, her gaze calm, her smile serene. “But it’s also one to ask you. How else can there ever be an end to all the secrets and pain?”

How else, indeed? Hannah asked herself sadly.

Ella sighed. “Devlin’s been so guilt-ridden ever since

… since he began calling at Sadie’s that summer, that he can barely stand to be near you, much less look me in the eye.” She shook her head. “I can’t begin to tell you how angry it made me.”

“You had every right to be angry.”

The red-haired woman gave a wry laugh. “Oh, and I was. I assure you. I’m no saint. From the first day you came here, I suspected something between you and Devlin, and it near to ate me up with suspicion and jealousy. In the beginning, though, I tried to convince myself Devlin hated you because you reminded him of his unfaithfulness—an unfaithfulness I suspected long before he finally confessed it to me. But, in time, I realized his guilt and anger at you went far deeper than that.”

“I’m sorry so sorry, Ella,” Hannah whispered. “I never meant to hurt you. I swear it.”

“I know.” Tears brightened Ella’s eyes. “Still, for the longest time, I had to force myself to be kind to you. Oh, how I fought to hide the bitterness and pain!”

A single tear trickled down her cheek. “The Lord finally pierced the darkness that held me, though,” she continued at last, earnest intent now gleaming in her eyes. “I love you both. I don’t want either of you to go on suffering because of what you did. The Lord long ago showed me the only way to truly love Him was to love others as He does, and forgive them as He did.”

Tears filled Hannah’s eyes. “After what I did to you, however unintentionally, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Ella, much less your love.”

“Just as none of us can ever deserve God’s forgiveness or love.” Ella took Hannah’s hand. “But that’s the mystery of grace. No matter how good we are, we’re still never worthy of it.”

“Perhaps he offers it to people like you and Abby.” Tears clogged Hannah’s throat and, for a moment, she couldn’t speak. “But never to people like me.”

“And who told you that?”

“People. Many people. Even if their lips didn’t utter the words, their eyes sure did.”

“But never God. Never Jesus Christ, who ate, drank, and associated with harlots, unclean Gentiles, and even hated tax collectors. He saw the soul of each and every person, knew their heart.” Ella squeezed her hand. “As He knows your heart.”

Hannah managed a watery smile. “I don’t deserve a friend like you.”

“That’s grace then, too, I suppose.”

As Ella released her hand and fell back against her pillow, the kitchen door opened and closed. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor. Hannah glanced at the small, brass and wood clock sitting on Ella’s bureau. Noon. It must be Devlin, home for dinner.

She rose from the rocking chair and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. “I’d better get the table set. Devlin’s sure to be hungry.”

“Take the children out with you and send Devlin in to me.” Ella’s mouth tightened with grim resolve. “It’s past time we set God’s grace into motion, and begin healing your wounded souls.”

3

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.

1 John 4:18

Come along, children.” With Jackson in her arms, Hannah herded Devlin Jr. and Mary into the kitchen ahead of her. “Time to wash up for lunch.”

From the bench near the back door, Devlin watched Hannah pull a stool to the sink, then help his son step up to wash his hands. She was fitting in right nicely, he thought, the now familiar surge of irritation swelling anew. If a body didn’t know better, one would think she almost fancied herself part of the family.

Well, Devlin resolved, one way or another it wouldn’t be for much longer. He had begun to make inquiries for a wet nurse in Grand View. Just as soon as Ella regained her strength and the influenza epidemic was over, he intended to ride to town and bring back the Widow Ashley. Then Miss Hannah Cutler could high-tail it back to her snug little bunkhouse, and the equally snug little life she had managed to make for herself here.

Taking up a rag, Devlin leaned down and used it to wipe as much snow as he could from his boots and blue denims. Then he tossed the cloth aside, stood, and strode to the sink. “What’s for dinner?”

Hannah half-turned from her task of drying Devlin Jr.’s hands. “Potato soup, baked chicken, rice, and mashed turnips. Dessert’s a bread pudding. Everything’s already in the warmer but the soup, and that’s simmering nicely.”

“You can eat your meal with Ella, if you like. I’ll stay with the children in the kitchen.”

“That’s fine with me.” Hannah hesitated. “First, though, Ella wants to talk with you.”

His eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring. “What about?”

“I-I think you should ask her.”

Devlin didn’t like the way Hannah suddenly avoided his gaze. Unease filled him. He grabbed her arm as she turned to put his son down.

“I’m asking you. What does Ella want to talk about?”

“What do you think?” The girl jerked free. “She knows about us, has known for a while. And now she wants things settled.”

Bending, Hannah put the little boy down. Mary immediately toddled over, was quickly picked up, and soon had her hands washed and dried. Watching her, the bottom slowly dropped out of Devlin’s stomach. Ella knew … knew about him and Hannah. He choked on a vicious curse. Now the fat really
was
in the fire!

Fury surged through him. Blast the woman! What had she gone and told his wife? And how, at this late a date, was he to explain himself?

Well, there was no avoiding the issue any longer. He had waited too long as it was. Whatever Hannah had revealed to Ella, his only recourse now lay in trying to make his wife see his side.

Devlin dragged in a deep, steadying breath. Then, his hands clenched at his sides, he headed down the hall to their bedroom.

“Close the door, please,” Ella said, as he walked into the room.

He did as requested, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. “Hannah said you wanted to talk with me.” He paused for an instant, then forged on. No sense pretending ignorance of the reason for their meeting, Devlin decided. Might as well seize what little advantage remained him in a bold, frontal assault. “Seems she went and told you about her and me.”

“She didn’t need to say much.” Ella met his unflinching gaze. “I figured it out months ago. Who wouldn’t, what with the grudge you’ve held against her since the first day she came here?”

“I didn’t want a woman like her keeping company with my wife and children!” Devlin cried out in his defense, feeling as if his world had suddenly turned upside down. “No decent man would.”

“Your rancor sprung from a much deeper source than the act of a decent man, Devlin.” Ella clenched the edge of her quilt until her hands fisted knuckle-white. “It’s long past time you accepted full responsibility for your actions, and stopped trying to lay it at Hannah’s door.”

Tears of anguish glimmered in her eyes. Frustration filled him. Would there never be an end to it then? Devlin wondered. Would he never, ever, be free of the guilt and shame and pain?

“You need to make your peace with Hannah,” his wife said softly. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of me and the children. We can’t be a whole family, a truly happy family, until you do.”

Distractedly, Devlin ran his thumb and forefinger down both sides of his mouth, smoothing his long mustache. Whatever did Ella mean by that? he wondered, struggling for time in which to sort through his confusion.

“The only peace I need to make is with you,” he finally said. “I’m sorry. I did wrong in keeping the rest of the truth from you, but I only did it to spare you further pain.”

“The pain that mattered most to me was the pain you caused when you committed adultery. It was never principally in the fact you committed it with Hannah, though that hurt, too, once I finally figured it out.”

He closed his eyes against the tears now trickling down his wife’s cheeks. “I did what I saw fit,” he groaned. “I did the best I could—”

“You did the best you could to protect
yourself,
” Ella gently corrected him. “And the only way to do that was to place all the blame on Hannah. Yet
you
were the one who sought
her
out.”

“I said I was sorry, Ella, and you know I am,” he ground out the hated, humiliating words. “What more do you want from me?”

His wife sighed. “Oh, Devlin, you see everything through the eyes of a man rather than through God’s eyes! Your sin encompasses not just me, but Hannah, too. Don’t you realize, for your contrition to be complete, you must also forgive
and
ask forgiveness of her? Don’t you know you must open your heart to God, and accept the healing power of His grace?”

As if he had been struck square in the face, Devlin staggered backward. Surely he had heard wrong. Forgive Hannah and ask her forgiveness? Open his heart to God? Did Ella know what she was asking of him?

It was one thing to beg his wife’s forgiveness. He loved her with all his heart and had hurt her deeply. But he had done nothing that justified asking Hannah’s forgiveness.

Or had he?

She had offered him a service, which he had paid for fair and square. It had been purely a business transaction, sordid and illicit though it was. He had to believe that. To regard what he had done any other way compounded his guilt. To consider it in any other light was to admit he had not only betrayed Ella, but also used Hannah in the basest, most degrading of ways.

Ella’s deep religious faith prompted her to bring healing to all who needed it. It was vitally important to her that he and Hannah make peace. It had also always been her dream that he return to the Lord. Yet he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. And that was the greatest shame, the deepest betrayal, and the most heart-wrenching failure of all.