Matthew: The Circle Eight Read Online Free Page B

at the boardinghouse and he taught Hannah a lot about taking care of wounds and sickness. She’d had dreams of marrying him, but he was thirty and a widower. Within six months there were more young women buzzing around the boardinghouse than flies. He’d been married by the end of the year, leaving Hannah with nothing but some medical knowledge. It did prove useful though. She knew the bleeding would stop faster if she applied pressure to the cut.
    “Not in this house you won’t.” Granny had moved on to true anger.
    Hannah moved right along with her. “Then maybe I won’t live here anymore.”
    “Where do you think you’re going?” Granny thumped her cane hard this time. “You have a beau I don’t know about?”
    Granny was too close to the mark for Hannah’s comfort. She had met a man, or sort of met a man, this morning, and perhaps he was the beau she had been dreaming of. Granny’s tone assured her the older woman was being as sarcastic as she could be.
    “Now you’re just being mean, Granny. I don’t need a feeble old widow like you cutting me down.” With that, she stomped out the back door.
    The air outside felt good on her skin, which was sweaty from the heat of the stew and her own emotions. She plopped down on an upended log and tried to calm herself. Her heart raced with the events of the day, culminating in yelling at her grandmother. The woman who’d raised her and loved her. The woman who was probably too hurt to follow Hannah out the door to demand an apology.
    They had both been unkind to each other, but Hannah was definitely meaner. She had actually called her granny old and feeble. Completely true, but remarks more fitting to a harridan than a granddaughter. Hannah sighed and pressed her forehead against her arm. What a mess she’d made of things.
    “I’m sorry, child.” Granny appeared on the steps. “I didn’t know.”
    Hannah stared at the ground. “Know what?”
    “That you had met a beau. I didn’t mean nothing by what I said. Just an old woman mouthing off like an old fool.” She shook her head, one gray curl bouncing in the breeze.
    Hannah’s laugh was more like a strangled chuckle. “I didn’t meet a beau. I met a man who made me act like a fool. I could hardly speak to the fellow.” She finally met her grandmother’s gaze, and saw understanding clearly shining in her wise eyes.
    “That’s what we do. Act like fools around them until they get up the nerve to come courting.” Granny waved at her. “Come on back in and let’s take a look at your thumb. And we can talk about your young man.”
    “He’s not my young man.” Hannah got to her feet and almost dragged herself toward the back door. Granny would ask so many questions she didn’t want to answer, or perhaps couldn’t answer. It would be awkward, but it was also exactly what she’d been hoping for. Someone to talk to who would understand and maybe give her the advice she needed.
    One thing she did know. Something had happened and she owed it to herself to find out what.
    After wrapping her thumb in a strip of cloth, she got all the turnips in the stew. Within twenty minutes, she’d started the gravy with some fat from the meat. The work gave her time to stop thinking about everything. Granny hummed as she snapped peas from her perch at the table. Things felt normal again.
    Matthew had paced outside the boardinghouse for a good thirty minutes before Olivia found him. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her gaze. The afternoon sun cast a shadow beneath the rim of her bonnet so he couldn’t see just how annoyed she was. Good thing, too.
    “What are you doing? We’ve been looking for you.” She tapped her foot, raising a cloud of dust with each movement of her boot.
    The last thing he needed was Livy sticking her nose into his business again. She needed to let him be head of the household without following him around like an angry hen. He wanted to talk to this Hannah Foley.
    And he needed to do