Mail-Order Bride Arrived in Rags — The Rancher’s Daughter Whispered, “Please Be Our Mama”

Chapter 3

Lucy considered this, her brow furrowed. “I think it was because God needed them more than we did. But I don’t think that’s fair, because we needed them first.”

Hannah felt the words land somewhere deep in her chest. She had no answer for that. She had asked the same question, in different words, in the dark hours after her own husband had died. She had not found an answer either.

Behind them, on a small horse that seemed too large for his frame, Thomas rode in silence. He kept his distance from the wagon, not quite part of the group, and Hannah could feel the weight of his watchfulness on her back. She had taught enough children to recognize the signs — he was not being hostile, he was being careful. He had invested in something once, and it had been taken from him, and he was not going to make that mistake again.

She did not try to draw him out. She had learned that the surest way to make a careful child retreat was to push.

“The house is just ahead,” Daniel said, pointing with his chin. “The white one. The barn needs a new roof before next winter, but we’ll get there.”

Hannah followed his gaze. The house was modest but solid, with a porch that ran along the front and a chimney that was sending a thin ribbon of smoke into the afternoon sky. It was not grand. It was not impressive. But it was the kind of house that had been built to last, with a roof that had weathered storms and walls that had held warmth through cold winters. She could see, in the arrangement of the outbuildings and the condition of the fence, the hand of a man who took care of what was his.

“You have four hundred acres,” she said. “Cattle and horses.”

Daniel glanced at her, surprised. “You remembered.”

“I remember everything you wrote. There wasn’t much else to do with the letters except read them again.”

She said it without thinking, and then felt the heat rise to her cheeks. But Daniel didn’t look away. He held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, and something passed between them that neither of them had words for. The kind of recognition that doesn’t need language.

Lucy, oblivious to the moment, had moved on to the subject of the schoolhouse. “Miss Hattie says I’m the best reader in my class. I can read chapter books already. Do you have any books? Thomas said you probably don’t, but I told him you looked like someone who read books.”

“I have a few,” Hannah said. “I brought them in my trunk.”

“Can I borrow them?”

“Lucy,” Daniel said, his voice gentle but firm. “Let her get inside before you start asking for things.”

“It’s all right,” Hannah said. “Of course you can borrow them.”

The wagon pulled up in front of the house, and the world went quiet. The wind had died down, and the only sound was the creak of leather as Daniel set the brake. He climbed down and reached up to help Hannah, his hand warm and rough with calluses. She felt the strength in his grip, the steadiness of it.

“Welcome home,” he said.

The words were simple, but they landed somewhere she had been keeping carefully guarded. She did not let herself examine the feeling too closely. She simply took her hand back and followed Lucy toward the porch.

Thomas dismounted without help and walked past them without a word, his boots heavy on the wooden steps. He paused at the door, looked back at Hannah for a long moment, and then disappeared inside.

“He’ll come around,” Daniel said quietly, coming to stand beside her. “He’s cautious. Takes after his mother in that way.”

Hannah nodded. “I’m not in a hurry.”

“I know you’re not.” His voice was quiet, certain. “I can tell.”

And that was the moment Hannah realized that he had been watching her as carefully as she had been watching him, and that he had already seen more of her than she had intended to show.