Woman of Grace (30 page)

Devlin paused to kick at a stone near the tree’s trunk. “You can imagine how long that brotherly reunion lasted. My pa wasn’t particularly successful at endearing himself to most of the folk in Grand View either. Pretty soon, the only work he could find was in the town saloon. It was there he met my ma.”

Hannah’s heart lurched. “Your mother worked in a saloon?”

Devlin’s mouth clamped shut, and he nodded. “Yeah, she wasn’t much more than a dance hall girl, and probably a prostitute on the side, if my pa can be believed. But she was a pretty little thing, from the one print I have of her, and my pa wasn’t too particular by then. Conor said he heard from his pa that my ma was looking to get out of her line of work, and not too particular either.”

Abby had never mentioned that detail about Devlin’s mother. “So that’s why you hated me so,” she said. “And why you were so set against Evan and me getting married.”

Devlin’s laugh was harsh. “Maybe partly. But the main reason was because I was scared of being called to face what I had done. You—and my ma and pa—were just excuses I used to hide behind. Funny thing is, even though I hated my parents and what they did, I started to become the same kind of person.” He sighed.

Hannah sat quietly, not knowing how to respond to Devlin’s admission.

“You know what else was funny?” His mouth twisted in derision. “As much as I came to hate my pa for his brutality and self-destructiveness, in many ways, I hated my ma even more.”

“For having left you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. If she’d lived …” Momentarily, his voice faded. “But then there are other times when I think I hated her for being the woman she was, a woman of loose morals who maybe didn’t even love my pa or want me, but just needed security and a better life for herself.”

His words, so reminiscent of her own secret thoughts when she had first come to Culdee Creek, pierced Hannah’s heart. “She could’ve just wanted it all. A better life, a man to love,
and
a baby to cherish.”

Devlin lifted himself off the tree branch, strode to a big, split cottonwood opposite where Hannah sat, and wheeled about. “Yeah, maybe so. I’ll never know. My pa refused to talk about her, except to set me straight about her past so I wouldn’t harbor any romantic notions about a saintly mother.”

Hannah frowned. “That was mean of him. What harm would it have done to speak kindly of his wife?”

“By then my pa’s mind was so pickled by all his drinking, I don’t think he even knew what he was saying half the time.” Devlin gave a snort of disgust. “If it weren’t for the food I could scrounge or steal, we wouldn’t even have been eating. By the time I was twelve, he had even been fired from his job at the saloon.”

Devlin had lost both parents, Hannah realized, one in death and one in despair. No wonder he found it hard to get close to people—to trust or take in the love offered him. How could he be certain it wouldn’t fail him when he needed it the most?

“You’re a brave man, Devlin MacKay,” she said, filled with a growing admiration. “You’ve survived such terrible disappointments, yet still you fight on. You gave love a chance, and look what a wonderful woman you found in Ella. And you’re giving me a chance.”

He lowered his head for an instant, then lifted it to look at her. “I’d like to think my ma was a lot like you.”

Joy swelled in her. “Thank you for that compliment.” Hannah paused, chewing on her lower lip in indecision. “Your story told me a lot about you, Devlin. But I still don’t understand what turned you against God. Or when. You used to attend church with Ella.”

“I went because she wanted me to, and because it set a good example for the children. I never did it because of any love for God on my part. Most times, I find God cold and heartless.”

“I suppose it could seem that way at times when life circumstances are bleak. I know I’ve had a hard time trying to understand why God lets certain things happen. I’m not sure I’ll ever really understand, but I still want to trust Him.” She leaned toward Devlin, her face now alight with growing fervor. “We find such great rewards in risking all to find God.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he growled, his face clouding over. “But it’s not like that at all. There are many obstacles … many reasons for not even attempting such a foolhardy, hopeless—”

“Name one,” Hannah challenged. “I dare you.”

Devlin’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t some game. This is serious, personal, and you might not like what you hear. Might not,” he added darkly, “like me so very well by the time I’m finished.”

“No, it isn’t some game, and it
is
serious,” she agreed, choosing her words with care. “But I would very much like to know and understand what keeps you from the Lord, Devlin.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and Hannah began to fear he wouldn’t say more. Finally, though, Devlin sighed, a long, deep, weary sound that filled her with compassion.

“I’ve wandered so far from the path of salvation and joy,” Devlin finally began, “that I don’t think I can ever find my way back. Indeed, I sometimes don’t even know if I really want to. But mostly, I keep myself from God because I know He won’t find me worthy. And why should I set myself up again for failure? I’ve managed, in some way or another, to disappoint everyone who ever needed me. I don’t want to disappoint God, too.”

“You can’t disappoint God, Devlin, save to turn from Him and His love.”

He laughed bitterly. “God doesn’t love me!” He lowered himself to sit on the ground. Leaning back against the tree, Devlin closed his eyes and encircled his knees with his arms. “I’ve never done anything to deserve His love. Never!”

Hannah slid off the tree branch and walked to him. Kneeling before him, she placed her hands on his knees. “Do you know what Noah told me one day, when I came to him for lessons? He said that you don’t have to do anything to deserve God’s love. He loves and accepts you just as you are. You don’t even have to change or mend your ways to get His love, though He obviously wants for you to lead a holy life. You already have His love, though, right now, just as you are, even before you decide to change—and whether you ever change or not.”

Devlin opened his eyes. In their dark depths she saw his torment and confusion.

“You’re not making any sense. You know that, don’t you, Hannah?”

She laughed then. “Just like God loving us without any guarantee we’ll ever love Him in return doesn’t make sense? Yet He does it anyway. He can’t help it. He
is
love!”

“And when did you get so wise in the ways of God?”

Even as a sad smile twisted his lips, his words held a note of hope and wonder. It gladdened her.

“I learned about God living at Culdee Creek. I came to know Him through all His people here. I saw His love in the kindness and compassion shown me, by reading of Him in the Bible, and by hearing about Him in the lessons Abby and Noah taught me.” She smiled. “As my faith grew and my relationship with God blossomed, so did my certainty of His unconditional love and acceptance.”

She saw the struggle in Devlin’s eyes as he tried to sort through all she had said. He wanted to believe. She could see that. But as both Abby and Noah had warned her, a faith journey wasn’t always straightforward or easy.

“Unconditional love … That’s a pretty tough piece to chew on.” Devlin exhaled a deep breath. “Well, I’m happy for you, Hannah. Truly, I am. But I’m still not so certain that’s the road I wish my life to take.”

“But you’ll think about what I’ve said, won’t you?”

He laid a hand over hers, a big hand rough with calluses but a hand strong and comforting nonetheless. “Yes, I’ll think about it. When you get that special glow in your eyes, it’s hard to ignore anything you say. And I must admit I find it harder and harder to discount you, or the effect you’re having on my life.”

“You’re very kind to say that,” she murmured, feeling warmth flood her cheeks.

His fingers encircled hers, squeezing her hand. “Hardly. I pretty much call things the way I see them.” Devlin eyed her with frank admiration. “Do you really have any idea how very special you are, Hannah Cutler?”

Hannah’s eyes widened. Her mouth went dry. She tried to say something—anything—but the look in his eyes melted all her resolve. All she knew was she wanted Devlin to kiss her.

His head lowered, moved toward her, but then he suddenly stopped. A curtain fell across his eyes and he withdrew his hand.

“Sounds like the children are stirring,” he said, his voice gone low and husky. “Best we head on back before they come looking for us.”

Hannah’s emotions reeled, careening from the heady heights of anticipation to the depths of disappointment. She swallowed hard and forced herself to nod. “Yes, the children,” she croaked. “I’d almost forgotten …”

She made a motion to rise, when his hand once more settled on hers, staying her.

“One thing more, Hannah,” Devlin said, his gaze turned suddenly serious. “Have a care with that tender heart of yours. Nothing in life goes along easily for long. And that includes your idealistic search for God.”

“No, nothing does,” she softly agreed, “but when it comes to the Lord, the effort is worth it.” She took his hand. “Can’t you at least begin to believe that, Devlin?”

He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Maybe I can, Hannah. Just maybe.”

18

Whoso keepeth his mouth and his tongue keepeth his soul from troubles.

Proverbs 21:23

On the evening of August 31st, Hannah, with Abby’s help, threw Devlin a surprise birthday party. Due to space constraints as well as the difficulty of keeping his party a secret in his own home, the celebration was planned for the main house. Devlin was appropriately surprised when the entire MacKay clan, plus most of the ranch hands and their families, showed up to greet him as he walked in with Conor. When he learned who the chief instigator was, he threw his arms about Hannah and gave her a big hug.

Almost as soon as he had done it, though, Devlin drew back, embarrassed. Hannah gazed up at him in shock and blushed furiously. Then Abby stepped in and laughingly gave Devlin a big hug herself.

The party proved a huge success, lasting well past dark. After a time, though, the hands began heading for their bunkhouse, or riding home with their families. Hannah tucked Jackson and the other children into little pallets on the floor in Beth’s bedroom, then rejoined Abby, Conor, and Devlin on the front porch.

She took a seat in one of the wicker chairs next to Devlin. “Where’s Evan?” she asked, noticing his absence. “I haven’t seen him for the past hour or so.”

Abby and Conor, sitting together on the porch swing, exchanged an enigmatic glance. “Reckon he wasn’t feeling too well,” his father finally replied.

Hannah turned to look out over the ranch. From the front porch, one could see down past the two barns and livestock pens, out over the rolling, barbed-wire fenced pastures, all the way to the first of the four Culdee Creek ponds. In the moonlight, the broad swath of water gleamed with a luminous sheen.

Was she worrying unnecessarily, she wondered, that Evan still harbored hopes they’d someday marry? He didn’t say much to her anymore, or try to seek her out, but there were still times—tonight in fact—when she had caught him watching her with the most intense look of longing. She had also seen the pain in his eyes earlier, when Devlin had hugged her.

It was hard to view his anguish and know she was the cause. There were times when Hannah wondered if it would ever resolve, as long as she remained at Culdee Creek. There were times when she even considered leaving for Evan’s sake.

Her little dresses were selling so consistently now that she could well support herself and Jackson. But she hated the thought of taking her son from this stable, loving environment. She hated the thought of taking him away from his father. And she could hardly bear the thought of leaving the other children. Or Devlin, for that matter, either.

Voices on the porch slowly drew Hannah back as talk turned to more neutral things, the approaching autumn, the remaining ranch projects still to be completed, and baby Sean’s amazing locomotive abilities now that he had mastered crawling. After a while, Abby pretended to stifle a huge yawn. Hannah grinned.

“Time for bed?”

Her friend nodded. “I need all the rest I can get to keep up with my son these days.”

Hannah laughed. “Oh, you’ll adjust in time. We mothers don’t really have much choice, do we?”

Conor exchanged a long-suffering glance with Devlin. “Guess we’d better see to it, then, that the womenfolk get their beauty sleep.” He took hold of Abby’s hand and rose, pulling her with him.

“It’s not that we want to run you off or anything …” Abby hurried to explain. “Sit out here as long as you want.”

Devlin chuckled. “It
is
a nice night. But we won’t be long. I need to help Hannah gather up my children and carry them back to the house.”