Free Woman of Grace by Kathleen Morgan Page B

sweetheart.” She hugged Beth, then released her. “I’ll come and tell you everything that’s happened, just as soon as we know more. Okay?”
    Beth nodded in solemn agreement. “Okay.”
    Hannah rose. “Evan’s in the kitchen with Jackson. Why don’t you go down and help your brother? While you watch Jackson, he can fetch some milk from the springhouse. Then you all can have some cookies and milk.”
    Once more, Beth nodded, but this time the action was a bit more animated. “Okay, Hannah.”
    Hannah watched the girl, her long black hair tousled, her feet bare, head down the hall in her pink, flowered nightgown. Then she turned and resumed her journey to Abby and Conor’s bedroom. Their door was closed, so she rapped softly.
    In response to her knock, booted footsteps moved across the hardwood floor. The door opened. Conor stood there, fully dressed in a red cotton work shirt, and his usual blue denims and scuffed boots.
    For all his kindness to her, especially since he had at long last returned to the Lord, Hannah still found Conor intimidating. Maybe it was his piercing, unwavering gaze. Maybe it was his air of authority and presence. Whatever it was, looking up at him, she felt a tremor vibrate through her.
    Hannah swallowed hard and took a step back. “Abby,” she croaked. “Evan said she was ill.”
    The big rancher moved aside, swinging open the door. “Yes, she is. Come in.” He gestured for her to enter. “She woke up a few hours ago with bad cramps, then began to bleed.”
    Hannah hesitated, then decided there was no point pretending modesty. “So she doesn’t think, then, that it’s just the beginning of her monthly fluxes?”
    “No.” Conor firmly shook his head. “Abby just informed me she missed her last one. Plus there are other changes …” He met her gaze. “She thinks she’s in a family way.”
    The blood drained from Hannah’s face. If Abby had indeed conceived and was now cramping and bleeding, it was possible she might lose the baby. “There’s not much I know to do,” she said, “except keep Abby quiet and in bed until Doc gets here.”
    As she made a move to go around him, Conor took Hannah by the arm. “Take care of her the best you know how,” he rasped. “I don’t want to lose the baby but, even more, I don’t want anything to happen to Abby.”
    A deep concern burned in his eyes. She heard it, as well, in his voice, felt it in the strength of his grip. Conor loved his wife more than life itself. The realization filled her with equal parts of joy for Abby and envy for herself.
    In a sudden, totally unexpected surge of emotion, a fierce yearning swamped Hannah. What she wouldn’t give to be loved—and love—with the ardent devotion Conor and Abby had for each other. Such grandiose hopes, though, were but false illusions for a woman such as she.
    Perhaps that was why she hesitated to encourage Evan any further. As wonderful as he was, he somehow didn’t seem the man for her—the man capable of helping her mend her tattered heart and soul. More and more strongly each time she was with him, Hannah was overcome with the feeling Evan wasn’t meant for her, but for someone else.
    She carried too much pain in her heart ever to be strong and whole again. Just as brutally as her body had been violated, so had her soul.
    Despite his protests to the contrary, she could bring Evan little of any worth, save perhaps the comfort of her body. But physical needs eventually waned. When they did, he would see her for what she was—an empty shell.
    “I understand, and I’ll do all I can for Abby,” she whispered, once again locking gazes with Conor’s tormented one. “I love her, too. Above everything else, I want her to be okay.”
    Conor seemed to relax then. With a shuddering sigh, he released her arm and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He ran a hand raggedly through his hair. “I’m … I’m just so worried.”
    “I know.” Hannah