Longings of the Heart (23 page)

“I understand, but how can we help when he hates us, especially me? After what I said, I doubt he’ll ever forgive me.”

“He needs time. If we remain steady in our love, eventually he’ll know he’s safe. And he’ll come round.” John gave Hannah’s hand a quick squeeze and then strode toward the boy.

Watching John walk away, Hannah could muster little hope that things would improve. Even if Thomas learned to tolerate them, she didn’t know if she could ever fully be a mother to him. She walked slowly toward the church. Catching sight of Deidre, her mind turned to the other trouble in their lives. What would they do about her?

“Come on, lad.” John rested a hand on the youngster’s shoulder and turned him toward the church steps.

“I’ll go in, but I’m not singing and I’m not listening to anything the reverend says.”

“Just sit then and be quiet.” John looked at Hannah, his frustration evident.

“God’s got no use for me and I’ve no use for him,” Thomas said.

Hannah felt a pang of regret and grief. She remembered feeling just as Thomas had. Once, she’d believed God had turned away from her. How, then, could she have so little sympathy for the boy?
Lord, I’ve been despicable. Forgive me. I want to love
him fiercely, as I would my own, as you have loved me.

“Hannah,” Gwen called, hurrying toward her. She glanced at John and Thomas, then said quietly, “Perry told me ’bout Thomas. How kind of ye to take him in. Ye must be thrilled to have a child in the house.”

Hannah smiled. “Of course we’re pleased.”

John and Thomas walked toward Perry who slapped John on the back and then bent to shake Thomas’s hand.

“He’s still unsettled and distraught as you can imagine,” Hannah continued. “But at least we can offer him a place to lay his head at night and food to fill his stomach.”

Mr. and Mrs. Atherton’s carriage rolled into the yard. One of the servants’ wagons followed. Hannah caught sight of Lydia but immediately looked away, turning her back on her onetime friend. She couldn’t speak to her.

Catharine Atherton stepped out of the carriage and moved toward Hannah. “Good day, dear.” She kissed Hannah’s cheek. “We missed you last week. I heard you took in the Davies boy. It’s splendid that he’s living with you. I know you’ll make fine parents.”

“We’ll do our best,” was all Hannah could say. She couldn’t bear for Catharine to know the truth of the situation. She looked at John and the lad, and then her eyes locked with John’s. The two silently heartened one another. Hannah smiled at Thomas, but his expression remained gloomy. Inwardly, she quaked at her own weakness.
I can love him
, she told herself. She hoped that underneath Thomas’s angry exterior there lived a child who needed to be cherished and who wanted to love others.

Lydia approached. She slowed slightly and glanced at Hannah as she walked past. Although Hannah knew she was there, she refused to look at her or acknowledge her in any way. Lydia moved on.

Catharine watched Lydia walk up the church steps and disappear through the front door. “What’s happened between you two?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“You two were so close. There must be something that can be done to repair your friendship.”

“People aren’t always who you think they are.” Hurt welled up as if she’d just learned of Lydia’s betrayal.

Catharine let out a sigh. “It’s hard to believe, after all you’ve been through together that—”

“Some things just can’t be mended.” Hannah caught John’s eye, and wanting to avoid any further discussion, she said, “Please excuse me. John’s waiting.”

John met Hannah at the bottom of the stairway. “Shall we go in together?”

Hannah leaned in close to him and looped her arm through his. She smiled down at Thomas and felt a stirring of affection. “I’m glad you’re with us, Thomas. Truly.”

He stared back, his blue eyes cool and wary.

Hannah tried to hang on to the warmth she’d felt. “Shall we go in?”

She and John walked up the steps together and into the church. Thomas followed. When they moved indoors, neighbors and friends greeted them warmly, offering congratulations and greeting the new member of the Bradshaw home. Thomas kept his lips shut tight and refused to respond to any of them, not even offering a nod. Hannah was awash with guilt. It seemed everyone saw her and John as the boy’s saviors, but she didn’t feel in the least like one.

Charlotte Smith, Lottie’s adoptive mother, grasped Hannah’s hand. “I heard,” she said, barely able to contain her joy. “How wonderful for you and John. And for Thomas. I’ve never regretted adopting Lottie. She was a gift from the Lord. And now you’ve been blessed in the same way.” She kissed Hannah’s cheek. “I know you’ll make a wonderful mother.”

Hannah’s emotions tumbled inside. She wasn’t sure what she felt. There was guilt over not treating Thomas the way she ought, while at the same time she also felt that his coming to her home might well be a blessing, an opportunity to be a mother—if only she could hang on to that. And the jealousy she sometimes felt over Lottie hung in the back of her mind like a shadow. She loved the little girl. If only things had been different, if only she’d been able to keep Lottie. When Charlotte had offered to adopt her, Hannah knew it had been God’s hand that put the two together. Charlotte had longed for a little one, and prison was no place for a child.

Hannah glanced at Thomas. Was he God’s gift to her and John?
Lord, I need your heart, not mine.

She focused on Charlotte. “John and I are doing our best.” “Oh, I know. It’s not always easy.”

“No, it isn’t.” Hannah managed to smile. John and Thomas moved on, finding a seat near the back of the church.

“I want you to know that Charles and I are praying for you. In the beginning it can be difficult, but one day you’ll love that boy just as if he were your own.”

Hannah was startled to hear such advice coming from Charlotte. She’d always assumed that Charlotte and Lottie had instantly bonded. “I’m sure you’re right,” Hannah said. “And thank you for your prayers.” Her eyes found Thomas. Staring straight ahead, he sat beside John. She tried to imagine the boy loving her but couldn’t visualize such a thing.

“You know, at first Lottie wasn’t happy to be with Charles and me. She wanted to be with you.”

Hannah stared at Charlotte, surprised over such an admission. “Really? I had no idea. But that is reassuring. Thank you.”

Hannah moved toward the pew. Thomas sat board straight, his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at the back of the pew in front of him.
Oh Lord, he’s nothing like Lottie. She was
always so open and trusting. This is utterly impossible.
But even as her thoughts pressed her into unbelief, she knew nothing was beyond God’s ability to accomplish.

She stepped into the row just as Pamela Hughes moved down the center aisle, snuggling a newborn against her. Hannah couldn’t help but look at the infant.
She’s beautiful.
She moved closer and peered at the child tucked inside a crocheted blanket. “Is it a girl?”

“Yes. Isabelle Marie.”

Hannah drew in a breath of sorrow and her insides ached. “She’s lovely. How old?”

“Just two weeks.”

That’s when Thomas came to us—two weeks ago.

Pamela smiled down at her daughter and rested an index finger against her pink cheek. She looked at Hannah. “Would you like to hold her?”

“May I?” The baby was passed to Hannah. She held the little girl against her breast and caressed the infant’s cheek. Her skin was as soft as rose petals. Inside, Hannah wept for the baby she’d never have. Dropping a kiss on the little one’s forehead, she handed her back to her mother. “God has truly blessed you. She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Pamela took the infant and moved on to another pew. As Hannah sat beside John, she could still smell the fragrance of the newborn and feel the soft bundle of life. Her throat was tight as she held back tears. She wanted to leave, go someplace where she could weep. Instead, she clasped her hands in her lap and, like Thomas, stared at the pew in front of her.

The music played and Hannah sang, but she didn’t hear the words or feel God’s presence. When the reverend spoke, she stared at him as if she were paying attention, but she didn’t hear a word. Her heart and mind couldn’t tear themselves from the little girl and her own longing for a baby.

When the service came to a close, all she could think of was escape. In her mind, she understood that God was in the midst of her circumstances and that he knew what was best for her and her family. But her heart wanted something else. How could she do what he was asking? She glanced at Thomas. She didn’t love him, not the way a mother should cherish a child. He was a sullen boy who wanted nothing to do with her.

Lottie galloped up to Hannah, auburn curls bouncing. She threw her arms about Hannah’s waist. “Good day.” She smiled up at Hannah. “I heard ye got a boy living with ye.”

“That we do.”

“Is he a good boy?”

“He’s very sad right now.” Hannah caressed Lottie’s hair. “Remember how you felt when your mum died?”

“Yes.” She turned and looked at Thomas. “Is that him there with Mr. Bradshaw?”

“It is.”

“Would it be all right if I said hello to him?”

“Of course.”

Lottie hugged Hannah. “Maybe ye can visit and bring him with ye. He looks to be ’bout my age.”

“He is at that. I’ll make sure to bring him next time I come.”

“Good.” Lottie hurried off toward John and Thomas.

Hannah thought back to how she and Lottie had met. The little girl had started chatting with her while on deck of the prison ship. She’d lost her mum and needed a friend. Hannah had loved her right off.
Why do I love her and not Thomas? The
circumstances were different,
Hannah reasoned.
We were trying
to survive and she was suddenly without a mother.
A quiet voice whispered inside,
Not so different.

When Lottie reached John, she said her hellos and then in a very grown-up way offered Thomas her hand. He looked at it, then without acknowledging her, he moved past the sociable child and out of the church. Not to be put off, Lottie followed.

A few minutes later, she returned to Hannah. Leaning against her, Lottie said, “He must be real sad, mum. He won’t say a word. But I figure in time me and him can be friends. Do ye think?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Hannah rested a hand on Lottie’s shoulder.

The little girl spotted her mother. “Time for me to go. Don’t forget, please come visit.”

“I’ll come soon.”

She skipped away to her mother.

Hannah walked toward the church door where the reverend stood just outside, greeting parishioners as they passed. When Hannah approached, he said, “Grand to see you. Is everything well with you and John and your new addition?”

“Yes, quite well,” Hannah lied.

“I’m pleased to hear that Thomas is living with you. But I can see that he’s sorrowing. He’s a good boy, though. And he’ll be a fine addition to your family. He needs loving people like you and John.”

Guilt twisted inside Hannah. “Right now he’s quite a sad little boy, but we’ll do our best.” Even though she stated words of hope, Hannah had trouble believing them.

“Trust in the Lord. He’ll see to him and to you.” The reverend’s eyes twinkled. “God has placed him exactly where he belongs. And we must remember that he sees the beginning and the end. I’m absolutely convinced that he has great plans for you and John and Thomas.”

Hannah wondered if the reverend could see right through her to her aching heart. Was he telling her what he truly believed or only saying what he hoped would make her feel better?
May his words be prophetic
, she prayed.

“I’ll remember you all in my prayers.”

“Thank you, Reverend.” Hannah stepped past him and onto the porch. She’d been forgiven so much, and now it was time for her to give away some of what God had bestowed upon her.

The thought vanished when she saw Deidre with John. They stood beneath an ancient gum tree. Until this moment, she’d forgotten that she’d seen Deidre when she arrived at church. Her insides recoiled.
What does she want now?
Hannah took the steps quickly and hurried toward her husband and that woman.

Before she could reach them, Deidre had walked away. She approached John. “I have a mind to tell her what I think of her scheming.”

John reached out to Hannah and pulled her close. “It will do little good. Please, say nothing.”

Hannah glanced about at the last of the parishioners. “John, people are talking. They think the worst.”

“I doubt that. They know us too well for that.”

“I hope you’re right. What did she want?”

John took in a breath before answering. “Food stuffs and the bull calf.”

“But we can’t . . . we won’t. Not this time.”

“Hannah, quiet your voice. People will hear.”

“If you go to her house, it will only give them more to talk about, especially if you’re seen giving her something as grand as a bull calf. John, it must stop.”

“People are not going to talk. I’ll be careful to make sure no one is about.” He took her arm. “Let’s go home. We’ll discuss it there.”