A Home For Hannah (Reunion: Hannah, Michael & Kate #1) Read online

  “Oh, yeah. Grizzlies, although not as many as there used to be. Bighorn sheep, elk, bull moose. And, of course, coyote, fox and mountain lions. Not a good place to go climbing without a big gun.”

  She turned back, blinking from the bright sunshine. “Are you a hunter?”

  “No, but Bart is. You’ll see a couple of heads in his den.” When the plane straightened out, he got up. “I’m going to make some coffee. They probably could use some up front.”

  Hannah thought she wouldn’t mind a cup herself. She stretched lazily. It had been a pleasant flight, very smooth. She’d fallen asleep after they’d eaten a snack earlier, her hand wrapped in Joel’s. That was twice now that she’d slept with him. She was beginning to like the feeling. Too much so.

  She returned her attention to the window, noticing that the pilot was turning the plane in a wide circle, heading them back to Red Lodge and Bart’s ranch. Maybe back on terra firma, she’d be able to keep her distance from Joel more easily.

  She almost believed she could.

  Hannah was afraid to move, to breathe. She stood peering over the stall door at the mare lying on a bed of clean hay while three men stood ready to assist her with the birthing. The foaling barn was heated, yet Hannah felt a chill run up her spine. The mare moved her big head, snuffling out through distended nostrils. Her dark, expressive eyes watched the humans closely between contractions. The atmosphere was tense, the air heavy with the scent of leather and animals. Hannah leaned closer.

  Johnny, the seasoned vet, crouched down. Bart Merrick, a taller, craggy-faced version of his older brother, stood behind Johnny. And by Domino’s head sat Joel, murmuring gently to the straining mare. Despite having grown up on a farm, Hannah had never witnessed a birthing, since her father hadn’t bred his stock. She’d been thrilled when Bart had suggested she come along.

  The old vet squatted on his haunches, his weathered face wearing a frown. “I think we’ve got some distress here,” he told Bart as he removed the stethoscope from the mare’s belly. “I don’t get a fetal heartbeat.”

  Bart leaned down. “I thought you said earlier everything’s okay?”

  “Earlier, it was. Don’t know what happened. Too late for an ultrasound. We’ll just have to see what happens.”

  Hannah saw the concern on everyone’s faces. She’d been told coming in that Domino had been in labor for hours now. She knew precious little about equestrian pregnancies, but in humans, that usually meant problems. Leaning on the stall door, she watched the mare strain through another pain. The minutes passed slowly.

  “I think we’re almost there,” Johnny finally said. Reaching in, he punctured the amniotic sac. A surge of liquid gushed forth. “Here comes the front feet and head. Step back, Bart.”

  Bart did just as the foal, in a diving position with head tucked between front feet, emerged. Domino gave another big push, and the foal was born. The mare let out a low whinny of relief.

  “Damn!” Johnny exclaimed. “Cord’s around his neck.”

  “Is he breathing?” Bart asked.

  At the mare’s head, Joel stroked the mare while the other two worked on her foal.

  Hannah couldn’t take her eyes from Johnny as he cut the umbilical cord and twisted it free. Moments later, she saw him turn to Bart and shake his head.

  “Stillborn. Sorry, Bart.” Johnny let out a disappointed whoosh of air, then quickly went to work cleaning up.

  “Not your fault,” Bart muttered as he bent to help the vet.

  Hand to her mouth, Hannah looked at the mare as she shifted her snout toward her son. She sniffed once, twice, then deliberately turned away. Was she grieving inside, knowing her baby had died before it had had a chance to live? Hannah felt tears well up in her eyes for the mother’s loss.

  Even after the stall was cleaned out of all traces of the birth, the mare showed no signs of concern. As Joel stepped out to join her, Hannah turned to him. “She must be hurting but pretending it doesn’t matter, right?”

  He’d witnessed too many birthings to agree. “No, it’s not like that with animals. If a foal is stillborn or born defective, the mother turns from it and goes on as if the birth had never taken place.”

  Hannah was shocked. “You’re kidding?”

  Joel shook his head. “It’s the same with dogs and cats. If one from a litter is blind or deformed, the mother ignores it and puts all her energy into the remaining live ones. In the animal world, it’s survival of the fittest.”

  “That’s so cruel, so unbelievable. A mother turning her back on her baby.” She pressed her lips together, struggling with suddenly overwhelming emotions. Oh, God, she shouldn’t have watched, but then, she’d never dreamed this would happen. She couldn’t let these people see how upset she was. “I need a little air.” Turning, she set off down the walkway.

  Perplexed, Joel followed. At the far end of the barn, few stalls were occupied, the horses in the corrals or out on the range. A door was open, letting in a shaft of light and fresh air. There was an old wooden bench that had been there as long as he could remember. He drew her down to sit with him, watching her. “Are you okay?”

  Hannah felt the walls closing in on her as memories flooded her. She was going to make a fool of herself, and there was nowhere to hide. She felt the tears begin and did nothing to stop them. She had to ride this out, she knew.

  Worried, Joel offered his handkerchief. “What’s wrong?”

  Hannah dabbed at her cheeks and placed a hand on his arm. “It’s just…nothing. I can’t explain.” She closed her eyes, willing the emotional turmoil to pass.

  He slipped his arm around her, cradling her head against his shoulder. The only thing he could think to do was to let her cry it out. Then maybe she’d tell him, if she could. Gently, he stroked her back, wondering what had set her off.

  They’d arrived early that morning and received a warm reception from Bart, as Joel had known they would. Everyone, from the housekeeper to the ranch manager to the hands that he introduced to Hannah, had been welcoming. The three of them had shared a big breakfast in the country kitchen, he and Bart catching up on some family news. Then he’d taken Hannah horseback riding for about an hour only, since he didn’t want her to be sore. When they’d returned, Bart had asked her if she’d ever seen a foaling. Excited, she’d all but run to the barn.

  And now this reaction.

  Finally, the turbulence slowed, then came to an end. Hannah wiped her face and blew her nose. Embarrassment flooded her, pinking her cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice quavery.

  “It’s all right. I’d just like to know what that was all about.”

  Staring at his handkerchief as she worried it in her hands, she wouldn’t look at him. “It just sort of comes over me at times. Odd times. Emotions build up, and I can’t seem to control the tears for a short time. I’m sorry. You must think I’m a nut case.”

  “Never.” He touched her chin, forcing her to face him. “Did you ever try to find out what brings on these bouts?”

  She knew exactly what had set her off today. But she couldn’t tell him. She’d have to skirt the issue. “The doctor I talked with in Michigan said it was a reaction triggered by buried memories. Today it was probably the barn smells, the horses, the foal being stillborn. I don’t remember a lot from those early years, but the feelings break through.” That part, at least, was true.

  Will had said she’d had a disturbing childhood. “You’ve said you were orphaned. How old were you and how did it happen?”

  She supposed she owed him some explanation after her embarrassing outburst. This story was far easier to tell than the other one. “We lived in Frankenmuth, a farming community not far from Detroit. We didn’t have much, but I remember we were really happy. My mother sang while she worked, and Dad was a tease. I was eight when he was killed in a tractor accident. My brother, Michael, was fourteen, and my sister, Katie, was just six. Mom tried to keep things going, but there was so much work and she was crying all th
e time, missing Dad. Then she got sick. I never knew what she had, only she seemed so weak and she was always coughing. One day, the ambulance came and took her away. That same day, the Child Protective Services picked us up and took us to separate foster homes.”

  Joel heard the remembered pain in her voice and took her hand, wishing he could erase all she’d suffered. “That must have been awful.”

  “It was. No one would tell me anything, not how my mother was doing or where Michael and Katie were. I cried a lot in those days, and the foster parents weren’t too happy with me. I went from one home to another, always unhappy. In looking back, I think the fault was more with me than the foster parents. I wanted things to go back to the way they were, and that couldn’t happen. There was no one who really cared about me, and the natural children in the homes where I lived resented me being there.”

  Hannah looked up then, noticing his expression and unwilling to allow him to pity her. “I figured out how to survive, though. I wasn’t beautiful like Katie, but I had two things going for me—my brains and good behavior. Studying came easily, thank God. I learned to behave so as not to draw attention to myself. I managed all right. Then one day, they told me that my mother had died of tuberculosis. I really fell apart after that.”

  “No one could blame you.” Joel’s heart ached for the child she’d been.

  “But I soon realized that crying did no good, nor did self-pity. I learned to rely on myself. By then, I was beyond the age when most people want to adopt children. When I turned fourteen, I got lucky. The Murrays took me in, and we moved to Lansing. They’d lost a daughter to cancer and seemed to want a child in the house. I knew they didn’t love me, but at least, they were kind. I stayed with them until after high-school graduation. Mr. Murray helped me to apply for and win a scholarship to Michigan State.”

  “Do you still keep in touch with them?”

  “Mr. Murray died two years ago, and Mrs. Murray moved to California to live with a sister. We write occasionally.”

  So she’d lost them, too. So much sadness. Leaning toward her, he framed her face with his big hands. “You have no apologies to make for getting emotional occasionally. You had a rotten break, losing both parents and your siblings. But lady, look what you’ve made of yourself despite all that!” He smiled at her. “You should be proud.” Gently, he kissed her.

  Proud, Hannah thought, sliding her arms around him. That wasn’t at all how she viewed the situation. But how nice that Joel had seen it that way, wanting to make her feel proud. If he knew the whole truth, she wondered how he’d feel. However, she wouldn’t worry about that today.

  She returned his kiss, feeling something inside shift for her.

  Chapter Eight

  It was early when Hannah woke on Monday morning. She stretched under the marvelous feather bed that Eudora, Bart’s housekeeper, had told her she’d made herself. She’d never slept better.

  Pushing the heavy coverlet aside, she got up and shivered. Ranchers apparently kept their bedrooms cool at night, which was why the feather beds came in handy. She went to the window and saw the sky just beginning to lighten. It seemed to go on for miles, pale blue and gold, finally meeting the snow-covered land way in the distance. Not a sound could be heard.

  Joel had been right about Bart’s ranch. It was peaceful.

  She usually preferred a shower, but last night, she’d indulged herself and soaked in the deep, claw-footed bathtub, something she hadn’t done in years. Heavenly. But now, she hurried to pull on clean jeans and a heavy turtleneck, feeling chilled in the morning air.

  Eudora might already be up, Hannah thought as she tiptoed downstairs. None of the other bedroom doors were open. She knew from what Bart had said that the ranch hands were usually out early tending to the livestock, but her window faced the front and the barns were all to the back.

  At the foot of the stairs, she heard voices coming from the direction of the kitchen. Deep male voices, two of them. She’d been about to step in when she heard her name mentioned, and paused.

  “Hannah’s different from any other woman I’ve known,” Joel was saying as he wrapped his hands around his coffee mug. “I’ve known my share of women, but there’s something about her that keeps her on my mind, even when we’re not together.”

  There was amusement in Bart’s voice. “Better watch out, son. That kind of talk is what got me married.”

  Joel looked up at his uncle. The man was nearing sixty yet still strong as an ox. His wife, Elizabeth, had died the summer Joel graduated high school. Joel had cried almost as hard as Bart, who’d never remarried. “And did you live to regret it?” he asked, knowing full well the answer.

  Bart sobered and his eyes grew misty. “Not one day.” He cleared his throat, yanking his thoughts away from Elizabeth. Gone thirteen years, and he still missed her as if it were yesterday. “You think you love Hannah?”

  Joel let out a long breath. “I care about her more than I’ve ever cared about a woman.”

  That wasn’t news to Bart. He’d watched the two of them together both days. There was attraction there, certainly, but he sensed deeper feelings. In both of them. “And how does she feel?”

  “Good question. She cares about me, I think, although she doesn’t want to. How much, I can’t say. She’s very distrustful of men. Something happened a while back, I’m not sure exactly what. Some guy hurt her badly, that much she’s told me. We’d have to get past that. I want her to trust me, but so far, it hasn’t happened.” He took a taste of coffee and found it oddly bitter. “One thing I’m certain of—she’s not after my money. Hell, I don’t know what I’d be offering her, even if it came to that.”

  Bart stretched out his long legs sideways to the table. His one knee was always stiff on these cold mornings. He felt good most of the time, but the years were catching up with him. “I don’t know what you mean by that. You’re a fine man with a good career. You come from good stock—I ought to know. What are you worried about?”

  Joel stared into his cup. “I don’t know where I fit in, not to this day. I tried corporate law, like you did, and I hated it. Dad’s never forgiven me for that and probably never will. I came out here to be with you and loved that. But I got restless and went back.”

  “Restless, or were you feeling guilty on account of Jason?”

  “Maybe a little of both. Now, I’m in criminal law, which I really thought I’d like. But it doesn’t feel quite right, either.” He sent Bart a crooked smile. “What do you suppose is wrong with me?”

  “Just growing pains, son.”

  “I’m thirty-two. I should be on track by now. Look at Todd and Sam, even Regan. And Terry. Yet here I am, floundering.”

  Bart frowned thoughtfully. “Not everyone knows what he wants to do with his life early on. Nothing wrong with trying this and that till you find where you belong.” He leaned forward, his lined face serious. “Ask yourself, if nothing stood in my way, what would I want to do with the rest of my life?”

  Blue eyes so like his own didn’t waver as Bart stared at him as if demanding an answer. Joel shifted in his chair, asking himself the same, all-important question. “I’d have to give that some thought.”

  “You do that. Be honest with yourself and you’ll know which way to go.” He rose and went to pour himself a refill.

  Joel got up, needing some time alone to think. He grabbed his sheepskin jacket from the back hook. “I think I’ll go out into the barn for a while.”

  “See you later,” Bart said, sitting back down. He’d already been out once this morning with Craig, his manager, going over some things. He’d earned a second cup of coffee. Stretching out his bad leg and propping it onto an empty chair, he made himself comfortable.

  A sound from the archway had him glancing up as Hannah came into the kitchen. “Good morning. You’re up early.”

  Hannah saw by the big clock on the wall that it was barely seven and still not fully light. “I feel thoroughly rested. That’s a wonderful bed.�
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  He grinned. “Eudora’s feather bed gets most of the credit. She made breakfast for Joel and me a while ago. I can round her up for you and…”

  “No, please don’t. Coffee will do for now just fine.” She found a mug on the counter and poured herself a cup, then wandered over to join him at the table.

  She was still digesting all she’d overheard. Eavesdropping had her feeling contrite. Yet she’d probably learned more about Joel in that brief conversation than in several much longer ones they’d shared. Thoughtfully, she sipped her coffee, hoping she didn’t look as guilty as she felt.

  Bart knew Joel and Hannah planned to leave tonight. Over the rim of his mug, he studied her, as he’d been doing for two days now. She was lovely with that great hair and big eyes, though a little too thin. He’d seen the intelligence, the meditative manner, the melancholy mood that would overtake her, like that first day in the barn. And he’d seen her fierce independence.

  He wondered if she was a good match for Joel, who was as close to him as his own son, if not more so, for they were kindred spirits. Maybe he’d do a little gentle inquiring.

  “I hope you’ve enjoyed being with us,” he began.

  “I have.” Hannah set down her cup. “It’s so beautiful here, the mountains, the peace and quiet. I can see why Joel loves coming to visit.”

  “His reasons for coming here are more than all that.”

  Hannah sensed that beneath Bart’s casual manner, he was trying to tell her something. “Do you know what they are?”

  “I think so. Because here, there’s no pressure. On your ranch, you’re your own boss. No one breathing over your shoulder. If you’ve got a good crew like we do, every man knows what has to be done, and he does it. No one stands on ceremony. At the end of the day, you’re tired, but you feel good. You have pride in what you’ve accomplished.”

  Hannah wished she knew what Bart was getting at. “I suppose that’s true. But don’t you think Joel has pride in what he accomplishes as an attorney, in the cases he wins, the people he helps?”