Hannah quaked inside. She could still feel Thomas’s arms clutching her. She could hear his tearful determined voice demanding that he wouldn’t go. She’d never imagined losing him. She must hurry. Perhaps John could make Thomas’s aunt see reason.
“Let me go for ye,” Perry said. “It’s better me than a woman alone on the road. Ye never know what ye might come across.”
“No.” Hannah knew Perry’s suggestion was sensible, but she couldn’t wait here while he went. She had to do something. “I’ve already told Mrs. Atherton I’m leaving. Dalton is preparing the buggy.”
“Let me go along, then.”
“It’s not necessary. I’m quite capable of looking after myself.”
“I know that, but . . .” Perry folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Yer a stubborn woman.”
“That I am.”
“This is just too much, Hannah. At least let Perry go with ye,” Gwen entreated.
Trying to maintain a calm exterior, Hannah said, “I’ll be fine. I should be the one to go. This is about me and my son.” She glanced at the carriage house. “I’ve got to be on my way. John needs to know what’s happened. And the sooner the better.”
Dalton drove the buggy around to Hannah’s cabin and stopped. Hannah hurried to meet him. “It’s kind of you to help.”
“I’ll be more than happy to drive you.”
“Thank you, but I’d rather go unaccompanied.” Hannah understood the good sense behind the offer, but she desperately wanted to be alone. She wished people would just let her be. Her emotions were a jumble, and she needed time by herself to sort them out and to weep. She doubted there was anything that could be done to bring Thomas home. She tried to stay focused on what was at hand, but the future stretched out before her—endless and empty without him. Tears stormed the back of her eyes. Not now. Not yet.
She tilted her chin up and, in the most practical tone she could muster, said, “I prefer to go alone.” She’d not forgotten that Margaret now lived in John’s house. It would be difficult to face her, and she’d rather manage that emotional obstacle on her own.
Dalton climbed down, his long legs carrying him easily to the ground. He faced Hannah. “Very well, then. But I’d feel better if—”
“I know you would. And I thank you for caring.” Hannah moved past him to the buggy. “It’s best this way. None of this is your concern anyway.”
Dalton held his body stiffly and Gwen’s eyes teared. Perry put an arm about his wife. “Not our concern? We’ve been friends a long while, Hannah. I’ve known ye since the prison ship. And Gwen and Dalton nearly as long. We’re family.”
Hannah realized her insensitive blunder. “Of course you’re concerned. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. I just didn’t want to put this burden upon your shoulders. You’ve no need to carry it.”
Gwen moved to Hannah and grasped her hand. “What hurts ye hurts us. And God’s Word says we’re to help carry one another’s burdens. We want to help carry this one.”
A wave of love rolled over Hannah. “I’m grateful for your kindness, but I’ve got to go alone.”
“Why so?” Gwen asked, squeezing Hannah’s hand. “Please let us help.”
Hannah didn’t know what to say. She hurt so deeply she wasn’t able to share this burden just yet. She needed solitude. “I just can’t share any of this right now. But I’m grateful for your love and your prayers.” She looked at Perry and Dalton and then turned to the buggy. “I must be on my way.”
Dalton gave Hannah a hand up and then stepped back.
She lifted the reins. “I’ll be home as soon as I can. Please don’t worry about me.”
She glanced at Mrs. Atherton, who stood on the porch steps. Her face was lined with worry, and she held her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Hannah knew she was praying and would continue to do so until all was well. Looking at her friends, she said, “Pray for us. Pray Thomas can return to us.”
“We will. Ye can count on it,” Gwen said. She wiped tears from her eyes. “God won’t let them take him, not now. He’ll see to it that Thomas stays with ye. I’m sure of it.”
With a nod to her friends, Hannah slapped the reins, and the horses trotted forward. She wanted to believe, but she wasn’t at all certain God would do any such thing. She’d come to understand that his plans did not always agree with her own. But the idea of Thomas traveling across oceans and living so far from Parramatta was too much for her. She pleaded with God. Please don’t send him away. I need him. I can’t believe this is your will.
Even as Hannah prayed, trying to believe, she feared England might truly be God’s plan for Thomas. He’d adjust, and she and John would become a memory. He would have a fine family and a successful farm to claim as his own when he came of age. Perhaps it’s where he belongs.
Lord, if it is your desire, then I pray you will mend the wound his going will leave in my heart. And if you mean for him to stay, I ask for your strength and your wisdom. Show me what to do. As she headed for John’s, the encounter with Lucinda wound through her mind again and again. Lucinda had tried to be civil, but she’d come prepared to fight, and in the end she’d had her way. For now, just for now.
In her mind, Hannah scanned the papers again. They’d seemed legitimate. How could she make certain they were? And what if Lucinda and Thomas sailed away before she and John could find out?
She whipped the reins, hurrying the team along. Gazing through a blur of tears, she trusted the horses to keep to the road. The air was warm and carried the heady scent of wattle mixed with the sweet fragrance of boronia. Normally she would have enjoyed the fragrance, but today it felt suffocating.
Thomas. Oh, Thomas. Her heart constricted and she returned to prayer, beseeching the Lord for clear thinking. She couldn’t envision life without the boy. He’d come to her and John hurting and angry. Deeply wounded by the world’s injustice and the loss of his family, he’d been determined not to love them. And Hannah’s own defiance was as strong as his. The two had seemed impossibly incompatible, but God had been gracious and patient. Over time they became a family. He couldn’t have brought them together to separate them again, could he?
Why would you take him from me now? Is this a part of the penalty for my sin? If I could bring back the child I prayed away, I would. Hannah remembered the awful night she’d lost the baby. It had been created in an act of violence and then shamefully disposed of. She’d never forget the sound of the slop bucket lid that had hidden it while being carried to its grave. I know you’ve forgiven me, so why? Why, Lord? Please put a stop to this. It’s too much.
Hopelessness pressed itself down on Hannah. Would the consequences of a desperate prayer whispered long ago never end? Fear erupted in her, rising until it felt as if it would choke off her life.
She lifted the reins and slapped them across the horses’ backsides. “Faster, now,” she called. She needed John. He’d know what to do.
Barely slowing as she turned the team onto his drive, she headed toward the house. Margaret stood on the porch, a cup in her hand. In spite of the warm weather, she was dressed in a heavy taffeta gown. Hannah thought her foolish, but knew in time she’d relinquish her elegant dresses for something more sensible.
Margaret set her cup on a side table and walked down the steps, where she waited for Hannah. She smiled and, using a handkerchief, patted at the sheen on her face. “Good day. What can I do for you?” She studied Hannah. “Has something happened? You look troubled.”
One of the geldings tossed its head and blew a blast of air from his nose. “I must speak to John straightaway.” She didn’t want to tell Margaret what had happened. It was a private ordeal. “Can you tell me where I might find him?”
“That all depends on why you need to speak to him.” She leaned against the railing. “Hannah, you must come to accept things as they are. Theatrics will not get you back into John’s good graces.”
Closing her eyes, Hannah pushed down an angry retort and then refocused on the woman. “I’m aware of that, but it is urgent that I speak to him.”
Margaret moved toward the carriage. “He’s quite busy. The end of lambing, you know. He can’t take any chances of losing lambs, with the market as it is.”
“He’ll want to speak to me about this matter.” Hannah could barely contain her growing frustration. “Is he in the lambing shed?”
Margaret stared at her, eyes cool. “No. He’s not. And he’s not available for visitors. He’s working in the far pastures, making certain there are no ewes who have yet to lamb. I can tell him you stopped by when he returns for dinner.”
“I see.” Hannah didn’t know what else to say. She must speak to him. She looked about, trying to come up with an answer. I’ll have to go after Thomas myself. Perhaps I can convince Lucinda to stay until I can have her papers verified.
“All right, then. Tell him to contact me. It’s of utmost importance. I’ll be in Sydney Town at the boardinghouse.”
“It might be better if you explained the matter to me and then I’d be better able to inform him.”
Hannah knew it was a reasonable request, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak of it, not to Margaret. “No. It’s best if I tell him myself.”
“Of course. I’ll let him know when he returns.” Margaret moved back up the steps.
Disheartened, Hannah grabbed the reins tightly and started to turn the buggy toward the road. John stepped out of the shadows of a nearby shed. John!
Throttled by anger, Hannah glared at Margaret. “It seems you’re mistaken. He is here.”
“I do apologize. I had no idea. He must have come back while I was working inside.”
Hannah lifted the reins, clicked her tongue, and turned the horses toward John. She glanced back at the house, where Margaret stood on the bottom step. Perhaps she’s not to be trusted.
That was something to consider at another time. Right now Thomas was all that mattered. She urged the horses forward. Grabbing the harness, John looked up at Hannah, concern lining his face. “What is it? I can see something’s wrong. Is it Thomas? What’s happened to him?”
Overcome with emotion, she longed to throw herself into John’s strong protective arms and sob out the story. Of course, such an idea was unseemly, and she maintained a false sense of calm as she stepped down from the buggy. She was not unaware of his steady grip on her hand. “Thank you.” She suddenly felt uncertain of how to tell him. “I am here about Thomas.”
“Is he sick?”
“No.”
“Injured?”
“No.” Hannah took a steadying breath. “It seems Thomas has a family in England, his aunt Lucinda Davies and his grandfather Davies.”
“He never mentioned anyone.”
“He told me he remembers his father talking about an aunt, but it seems he knows very little about her or his grandfather. It would seem his father and mother rarely had contact with the family.”
“What does that have to do with Thomas now?”
“Lucinda came to the Athertons’ today . . .” Hannah paused, wishing there were an easy way to tell John the awful news. “She wants to take him back to England with her.”
“Take him back?”
“She seems well intentioned. Her father, Thomas’s grandfather, has a farm there and wants to see that Thomas inherits it when he dies.”
“Are there no other living relatives, no uncles or . . . ?” He held out his hands palms up, looking vulnerable.
“Lucinda said Thomas’s father was her only sibling. And now she and her father and Thomas are all that’s left.”
“Where is she?”
“She and Thomas set out for Sydney Town more than an hour ago.” Again, Hannah feared the unimaginable. She’d been so distraught she’d failed to ask when the ship sailed. If the ship left before Lucinda could be stopped, she’d never see Thomas again. Fear pulsed through her and she barely managed to keep her tears in check.
“She showed me legal papers signed by the court, but how can we be certain they’re legitimate?”
“I can have the governor confirm or disavow them.”
“I’m afraid their ship will leave before we can do anything.” Hannah felt the tattered seams holding her together begin to come apart.
John grasped her arms and squeezed gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll see that he’s brought home. I’m sure the governor can do something. Thomas belongs with us.”
“What can be done if his family has legal claim?” Hannah could no longer hold back the tears. “I can’t bear to lose him.” The scene when Lucinda took him flashed through her mind. “He was so distraught, begging me to allow him to stay. I had to force him to go.”
“I’ll bring him back. Trust me.”
Before Hannah knew what was happening, John pulled her to him. She couldn’t resist the consolation and pressed her face against his shirt. The smell of him and the strength of his arms comforted her. She longed to cling to him and never let go.
Getting a hold of her emotions, she disengaged herself and took a step away from John, wiping at her tears. “I’ll go with you.”
“I’d like that, but I can ride faster alone. If I can overtake their carriage, perhaps we can stop this thing.”
“What will you do? Lucinda seemed quite set on carrying out her duty. What can you say to convince her otherwise?”
“I don’t know. But I do know that Thomas can’t leave New South Wales. I’ll do whatever I must. There has to be a way.”
Inside Hannah screamed at the loss but managed to extend an outward composure. She looked at the house. Margaret was watching.
“You go home. When I’ve got him, I’ll bring him straight to the Athertons’. ”
Hannah nodded, daring to believe John. A flicker of hope burned inside her as she watched him stride to the barn and disappear inside. She climbed into the buggy and waited. She wouldn’t leave until he did.
John appeared a few minutes later, his horse saddled and ready. He offered a smile. “Remember, God sees us and he knows Thomas belongs here in New South Wales.”
“I pray you’re right.”
“I am.” He climbed onto the horse, rode up to the buggy, and then reached out and placed a hand on Hannah’s cheek. “Take heart. I’ll bring him home. I promise.”
He rode to the porch, talked with Margaret for a moment, and then headed off at a full gallop. Hannah could still feel the warmth of his hand against her skin. She covered the place with her own and watched until all she could see was the dust raised by his horse. Lord, carry him safely. And I beg you to bring back my son.