Hannah's Beau. Renee Ryan

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СКАЧАТЬ that defined his scoundrel brother. Oh, there was boldness there, confidence, too, but also…sadness.

      Oddly attuned to him, this virtual stranger, Hannah could feel the barely controlled emotion in each step he took, as if he were about to burst from keeping some unknown pain inside too long. With his head tilted down and his eyes looking straight ahead, his face was a study in fierce sorrow.

      She knew that feeling well. Had lived with it for years, ever since her mother had died and she’d taken on the burden of caring for her more fragile sister.

      He turned his head and their stares connected. Locked.

      Hannah couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Everything Tyler O’Toole pretended to be was real in this man, his brother.

      She quickly tore her gaze away from those haunted silver eyes and prayed for the bravery to approach him for his assistance. She had to remember why she’d taken a hiatus, why she’d come all this way to find this particular man.

      “Reverend O’Toole?” Hannah called out. Her heart picked up speed, nearly stealing her breath, but she’d come too far to turn into a coward now. “May I have a word with you, please?”

      He stopped and cocked his head. A strange expression crossed his face, a mixture of astonishment and wonder, much like a theatergoer suddenly surprised he’d enjoyed a moment in a play he hadn’t been eager to attend.

      He blinked, and the look was gone.

      “Do I know you, miss?” His voice was the same smooth baritone of his brother, but held a softer, more compassionate timbre. A tone that reflected the patience needed to minister to the downtrodden, the people no one else would accept.

      She brushed her fingers across his letter again, only now realizing how much she craved the tolerance and compassion she’d read in the scrawled words.

      For the first time in the last three hideous days, Hannah understood her sister’s motivation to run. But where Rachel was running away from her promises and commitments, Hannah wanted to run toward…something. Something kind. Something permanent and safe.

      Is this what the woman at the well had felt, Jesus? This rush of hope that all would be different, perhaps bearable at last, after her encounter with You?

      The thought left her feeling slightly off balance, but then she realized it didn’t matter how she felt. This meeting wasn’t about her. It was about ending a decade-old pattern of lies and deception.

      Hannah squared her shoulders, tilted her chin up and silently vowed to put the past to rest at last.

      Chapter Three

      For an instant, maybe two, the grind of wagon wheels, bark of vendors and squeak of swinging doors tangled into one loud echo in Beau’s ears. Sadness over Jane, coupled with a terrible sense of helplessness, made his steps unnaturally slow. He wanted to be alone to think through the awful situation, to determine what to do about Jane’s daughter, but he knew he had to push aside the selfish feelings and focus.

      “Miss,” he repeated. “May I help you?”

      He could barely look at her. Her refined beauty stood in stark contrast to the seedy backdrop of Market Street, making him want a reprieve from all the painful emotions of the last few weeks. If only for a moment.

      Beau gave his head a hard shake and stepped in her direction. By the time he’d closed the distance between them, he’d drawn a few conclusions about the woman in the blue velvet coat.

      Wounded, was his first thought. Fragile. Tragically beautiful. He’d always been drawn to the poignant and injured, as evidenced by his unusual ministry. But something about this woman, with her large, exotic eyes and heart-shaped lips, put him on his guard. He’d seen many like her living in hopeless desperation in Mattie’s brothel. Who else in this town could afford the silk gloves and matching hat she wore to draw attention to herself?

      The wind kicked up, whipping a strand of her pitch-black hair free from its pins. She shoved the lock back in place. There was such delicate grace and quiet dignity in that tiny gesture that Beau, exhausted from his efforts with Jane, felt something inside him snap.

      On your guard, Beau. This one’s trouble.

      Beau couldn’t shake the notion that no matter how young this woman was now, no matter how outwardly beautiful, she would end up just like Jane and the others in Mattie’s employ.

      I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. At the reminder from the Gospel of John, Beau knew he owed this woman his full attention and an open mind. Nevertheless, her mysterious allure somehow added to his earlier sense of defeat.

      He swallowed. Blinked. Swallowed again.

      “Reverend O’Toole, are you ill?”

      At the warm pitch of her voice, his confusion vanished, and the sound of horse hooves hitting gravel separated once more from the shouts of vendors yelling over one another.

      “No. Yes,” he said. His stomach twisted at the hard note he heard in his own voice, and he struggled to soften his tone. “That is, no, I’m not ill. And, yes, I am Reverend O’Toole.”

      She sketched a small nod then glanced into his eyes again. He saw relief there. Determination. And something else. Fear? Desperation? “I’ve come from Chicago to find you.”

      Chicago? By herself? Without a chaperone? Beau could no longer hear the activity around him. He flicked his gaze behind her, searching the area to see if his suspicions were correct. Baffled, he shifted his eyes back to her face. “You came here alone?”

      She clasped her hands in front of her, frowned, and then lifted her chin. “I’m on a desperate errand that could not wait to find an appropriate companion.” She swallowed, locked her gaze to a spot on his shoulder. “I’m a friend of your parents’.”

      “Are my parents…” Beau’s heart tightened and began to throb in his chest. A riot of emotions slashed through him—worry, fear, dread—too many to sort through. “Has something happened to them?”

      Her eyes widened at his question. “No.” She reached out to touch him and genuine kindness replaced her earlier agitation. “Indeed, they are quite well.”

      “Good.” He gave her one solid nod. “Good.” But his heart was still rattling in his chest. He took a slow, deep breath. “Then why are you searching for me?”

      A shadow of some dark emotion tightened her features. Guilt? Shame? A mixture of both?

      Beau felt something equally dark inside him come to life. He couldn’t help but think of Jane again. The famous actress had once been beautiful, as well. She’d been a friend of his parents’, too. And yet, that hadn’t shielded her from making poor decisions.

      “What made you travel so far, alone?” He knew his voice was too sharp, nothing like the way he spoke to Jane and the rest of the women in Mattie’s brothel. But surely no errand was worth this delicate woman embarking on such a dangerous journey by herself.

      “I must find your brother Tyler.” Her eyes went turbulent and she drew her lower lip between her teeth. “Before it is too late.”

      That СКАЧАТЬ