Free Longings of the Heart by Bonnie Leon Page B

if it never happens?”
    “It will. Trust in the Lord.” John smiled, but fear tugged at him as well. “Perhaps you’re already with child and just don’t know it yet.”
    “Perhaps.” Hannah didn’t sound convinced. “It’s been six months since our wedding.”
    A musical laugh carried across the yard. Deidre stood happily amidst a group of men, each waiting for a turn to dance. “She certainly turns heads, doesn’t she?” John said with a laugh.
    “She does at that. But I doubt her charm touches the inside.”
    “Why do you feel that way? From all I’ve heard she works hard and she seems to have an agreeable disposition.” He leaned back and looked intently at Hannah. “You said you’re not jealous. Are you? You’re much prettier than her, you know.”
    “You’re overly kind, husband.”
    “I’d not give Deidre a thought. I’m sure she’s innocent enough.”
    Hannah studied the blonde beauty. “Innocent? I think not.”

6
    Looking through a blur of tears, Hannah swept hot ashes out of the oven and into a metal firebox. Grasping the handle, she headed for the door. As she reached for the latch, it lifted and the door opened. John stepped in.
    “I’ll take that,” he said, reaching for the handle. “My stomach’s already grumbling. Hope dinner’s nearly ready.”
    “Nearly.” Hannah released the box.
    “Good. I can smell fresh hot bread already.”
    “That you’ll have to wait for until morning.” Without meeting his eyes, she moved to the hearth where a flat wooden shovel rested against the stone face. She carried it to the table and set it beside rising bread.
    “Hannah?”
    Still not looking up, Hannah sprinkled cornmeal on the peel and placed two mounds of bread dough on the shovel. “What?” She glanced at John.
    “You look a bit down.”
    “No. I’m well.” She carried the bread to the oven and set it inside, carefully sliding it off the wooden peel.
    “Hannah.”
    “I’m fine.” Hannah set the oven door in place and returned the paddle to its spot beside the hearth. How can I tell him? She took in a breath and forced herself to meet her husband’s gaze.
    “Is everything all right?”
    “Of course,” she said. But everything wasn’t all right. Her menstrual flow had come. No baby. I know I’m not meant to have babies.
    “You’re certain?”
    “Yes. I’m just busy.” She made an effort to lighten her tone and managed to smile.
    “All right, then. I’ll dispose of this, and then I’ve a bit of work still to do. Plus Patience needs milking before I can put her away for the night.”
    “That’s fine.” Hannah turned to the hearth where a pot of beans hung from a pole above the fire. Careful to hold her skirt away from the embers, she used a wooden spoon to stir the meal. “Dinner is nearly ready. I’ll set it on the table.” Hannah didn’t look at him; she didn’t want him to see her grief.
    Holding the firebox at arm’s length, John leaned close to Hannah and peered over her shoulder. “Looks good.”
    He rested his hand on her back, and she kept stirring. Abruptly, he straightened and said, “All right, then. There’ll be fresh milk for dinner.”
    “Can you fetch butter from the springhouse?” Hannah asked, trying to keep her voice cheery. She set a lid on the pot.
    “Right.” John opened the door and stepped onto the porch. “It seems we have visitors.”
    “Who would come out so late in the day?” Hannah joined him on the front step and watched a buggy bounce up the drive. Having callers would normally have delighted her, but today she had no heart for company. All she wanted was to climb into bed and sleep away her misery.
    “Good day,” John called jovially as David Gelson pulled his buggy to a stop.
    Lydia sat beside David. “Good day to ye,” she called.
    David climbed down and then assisted Lydia.
    Stepping from the porch, John held out a hand to David. “This is a fine surprise.”
    With a glance at Lydia, David said, “Lydia