Looking from one to the other, Hannah stared at them and giggled. “I cannot believe you two are a party to this—this insane scheme! You know Gabe and I could never get married. We don’t even get along that well.”
“Oh, we’re not parties to it, sister, dear. But we are cheering him on. He is a very good catch. Somebody you can be happy with, just like you want.”
“He is quite the charmer. Or maybe it’s that charming smile. I do feel drawn to him. And I fight it, but we’re drawn to each other. I can’t believe I just admitted that.”
Another shared giggle.
“Give him a chance, sister.”
Belatedly mindful of the room packed with church-goers, idly chatting and dining, Hannah hunched down in her seat to keep their very private conversation private. “Well, you may stop such nonsense immediately. Because we’re not a good match. Because all he’s interested in is—um—and I’m busy with a—um—”
“Hen. What on earth are you talking about?”
Pinky-rose color rushed across her high cheekbones, and she deliberately modulated her voice almost to a whisper. “Well, Gabe is involved with Abigail Fitzsimmons, as you must know.”
Molly stared. “Oh, fiddlesticks. You’re just imagining things.”
“No, it’s true. I’ve been around the store often enough to see—and hear. Obviously, he’s completely captivated with the woman, just as she is with him. In fact, she told me so.”
Lining both knife and fork neatly along the edge of her empty plate, Letty picked up her cup to ask, “And you?”
The blush deepened. “Uh. Well. I suppose I ought to tell you. I’ve followed in the steps of my sisters—all three of you.”
“Hannah Burton!” Molly hissed. Her black curls, drawn up into a becoming knot under their frippery of blue flowers and blue ribbon that was considered a hat, fairly bounced with excitement. “You haven’t gone and sent off for a Mail Order, have you? Can you possibly be serious? You criticized us for doing the exact same thing!”
“I know. I know. And I’m sorry. But—I suppose I’ll have to admit it—I was wrong. And my situation—warrants...such a drastic undertaking...”
Letitia reached a sustaining hand across the table top. “Tell us.”
Sunday dinner patrons were beginning to finish up, pile crockery together, and drift toward the door and their waiting mode of transportation. Glancing around, while the noise level gradually decreased and the crowd density gradually thinned, Hannah sighed and briefly explained.
“Do you think you’ll pursue it?” Letty screwed up her lovely mouth into a grimace; clearly she was as discountenanced by the potential suitor’s response as was Hannah herself.
“Well, ladies, you got your gabbin’ all done for the week?” Reese, meandering over in that lazy, hip-swinging, cowboy way he had, asked cheerfully.
“We do not,” said his wife with dignity, “gab. In answer to your ill-mannered inquiry, however, I can answer that, yes, we have caught up. Somewhat.” She shot both her sisters a warning glance: We need to discuss all this later; and, rising, tucked her arm through the crook of her husband’s elbow. “Come along, Hen, it’s nasty weather outside. We brought Molly with us, so we’ll see you both safely home.”
The cats were quite adorable, Hannah, returned later to her snug, serene room to unwind herself from layers of outer wear, would have to admit. They were already worming their way into her good grace, the little rascals. And she’d made the mistake of giving them names. Who could resist it, when Mama Mimi, a brilliantly-colored calico, occasionally left her kittens sound asleep to seek out human cuddling on Hannah’s lap? She was having the best time with them, and they made her smile. Just like Gabe made her smile. She couldn’t believe the thought had crossed her mind. And she found herself thinking about him. What would it be like to be his wife? She pondered on it for quite some time.
She knelt down before the wooden grocery box which was their bed, lined with several of someone’s old shirts (evidently Gabe’s) for comfort and warmth. Two tiny kittens, just a few days old, one amazingly pure white (Ivory) and one pure black (Inky), were nuzzling and nursing their mother; the atmosphere of the whole room radiated peace and contentment, deepened by Mimi’s loud purrs.
Mrs. McKnight had, after putting up a token argument, capitulated at last to Gabriel’s importunate appeals. See, these poor critters have got no home, he had pointed out. Well, yeah, I reckon they do, kinda, with me, but, see, I gotta be outa town for a while, b’cause my mother is dyin’, and—yeah, it’s a mournful trip, but things’ll be easier for me to bear if I know my little foundlings will be well taken care of, and that can only happen here, if you approve, Florence, you dear lovely lady, and—oh, bless your Christian heart and soul, I really do appreciate...
Hannah stretched out one finger to gently stroke the cat’s cheek as she thought about the absent doctor. She, who had had nothing to do with any species other than human, ever, in her lifetime, was already getting attached to these small vulnerable beings, and she would miss them horribly when he returned to re-stake his claim. Maybe in her future, she could have a cat one day. She would love to care for one.
For now, the afternoon, with its hours of gloomy skies outside and a crackling fire inside. stretched before her with sweet freedom. Time to respond to her correspondent’s message.
1871, 21 January
Dear Mr. Ualraig,
Thank you for your reply to my last week’s letter. It is certainly reassuring for me
to be told that you are financially well-situated. However, I must admit to some puzzlement at the vagueness of that reply, as I had hoped that we might
find a variety of subjects to which we both might relate. I would appreciate
knowing more about you, as far as your likes and dislikes, your family, your goals