So Pure a Heart (Daughters of His Kingdom 4)

“I cannot say, sir. I haven’t seen her since we returned.” He glanced up the stairs, the beginnings of a worry in his stomach. “Perhaps I should see after her. Be sure she is all right.”

“Aye.” Stockton’s attention was up the stairs before his eyes shifted to Joseph. “I worried perhaps this would happen. She seemed none too pleased to see her father.”

Struck by the revelation like a club to the skull, Joseph shook his head and all but stuttered his reply. “Her father? He was here?”

“He was.” Sighing, Stockton scratched his thumbnail beside his eyes. “I left them alone to talk, but I fear perhaps I should not have.”

Nay, he should not have. He should not have even let the man on the land. If Joseph had known…

His pulse raged. How many hours ago was this? He whirled to the clock on the mantel. Four hours perhaps, maybe more? That small worry steadily deepened to a cavernous pit. She hadn’t seen her father in years. If only Joseph had been with her. If only she had come to him, told him of her encounter, he might have been able to help her, ease what pains she suffered.

Bounding up the stairs, he knocked gently, though the energy in his muscles wished to break down the door to ease in an instant the writhing concern. “Hannah?”

Silence replied.

“Hannah, are you…” Heaven help him, he didn’t know what to say. He glanced down the stairs to Stockton, who looked up, eyebrows cinched.

Putting his forehead nearly against the wood, he spoke quiet, gentle. “I haven’t seen you since we came home. I simply want to be assured you are well.”

Still nothing. He tried the latch, and it gave. Pushing it open, he hurried in, and his stomach rolled to his feet. She was not there. The bed was tidy, not a sign she’d even been there, but certainly she had.

He hurried out and halted at Stockton’s hard stare.

“Where could she be?”

If only he knew. He descended two by two as Stockton rushed into his room for his coat.

“No, Stockton, wait.”

The man did an about-face, his expression taut. “I must go look with you.”

“No, sir, I beg you. She will not have gone far, and if she is truly so upset, she might wish her distress to stay only within the family.” Waiting as if on eggshells, Joseph prayed the man would submit.

Shoulders dropping, Stockton pointed. “If you do not find her within the hour, I will come. Family distress be hanged.”

After a swift nod, Joseph yanked on his coat, scarf, and hat.

Hurrying out the door and into the yard, he stopped, not allowing his eyes time to adjust to the pale light of the moon before he circled, scanning every which way for any indication of where she might have gone.

He gazed to the hill, and his heart hovered between beats. There she was. Lord be praised. Racing up the hill toward the graves, he called to her. “Hannah.”

She didn’t turn, didn’t even acknowledge him until he stopped directly at her side. A cursory glance and forced smile shadowed her face.

“Hannah…are you—”

“I am fine.” The hollow words were a lie. She couldn’t honestly believe he would accept such an answer.

“’Tis cold. Will you not come back inside?”

She peered down at something in her hand, then quickly tucked it out of sight. “Forgive me. I hadn’t meant to worry you. I needed only a moment of solitude.”

Her attention went again to the snow-covered graves. So enclosed in sorrow, it seemed she hardly knew he was there. Dear Hannah. If there were some way to ease what ailed her. She wished for Ensign, for his wisdom and embrace. Could not Joseph impart that now?

The winter stabbed at his ears, as surely it did hers. He wasn’t about to allow her to stay in the darkness alone and in such temperatures.

Hadn’t she a scarf? He uncurled the one from his neck and placed it around hers. “I shall stay with you. It grows dark and is unsafe for you to venture out alone when soldiers abound.”

Offering him another look that hovered slightly above civil, she thanked him with a stiff smile, quickly turning away. But not before he noted the glisten of her cheek. She cried?