Hannah's Journey

“Board!” The conductor’s call seemed to echo and exaggerate the fact that she was nowhere in sight.

“Sir?” Hans stood at his elbow waiting for him to mount the filigreed metal steps to enter his car.

Levi nodded and climbed aboard but took one last look back. And there, out of the steam and fog, he saw three figures—two women and a bearded man—consulting with the conductor who pointed them in Levi’s direction.

He felt a strange sense of relief that bordered on victory. She had come after all and apparently with her family’s blessing, assuming her two companions had accompanied her to see her off. “Make sure the guest stateroom is prepared,” he said to Hans as he stepped back onto the platform and walked toward the trio. “Mrs. Goodloe,” he said, removing his hat and smiling broadly.

“Mr. Harmon, may I introduce my father-in-law, Gunther Goodloe, and my late husband’s sister, Pleasant.”

It was only when the older man shifted a worn cardboard suitcase from one hand to the other in order to accept his handshake that Levi realized they were all three carrying luggage. “I see you came prepared to stay for some time, Mrs. Goodloe. However, if your son is…”

“My father and sister-in-law will be accompanying me on the journey, Mr. Harmon. The conductor tells us that the regular seating is filled and I apologize for not notifying you sooner of the extra passengers, but…”

Levi turned his attention to the man. “I assure you, sir, your daughter-in-law will travel in comfort and there is no reason at all for you to…”

“Our bishop has given his permission for this unusual trip,” Gunther Goodloe said in a gentle but firm tone, “and he has done so only on the understanding that our Hannah will not make this journey alone.” He smiled and shrugged as if he’d just made some observation about the inclement weather.

“I see.” He could feel Hans watching him nervously, waiting for instruction. He could see the conductor checking his pocket watch and casting impatient looks in his direction. “Well, come aboard then and let’s get you all settled in.” He waited while the three-some climbed the stairs and then turned to Hans. “Prepare my quarters for the gentleman. The two women can stay in the larger guestroom.”

“Very good, sir.” Hans knew better than to question his boss, although the question of where Levi would sleep was implicit in the look he gave his employer. He walked to the far end of the car and boarded from there. Levi was well aware that while he was giving his guests the grand tour of the viewing room, the dining room and the parlor, Hans would be organizing the staff to prepare the rooms.

Once Levi had left the ladies and Gunther Goodloe to rest before dinner in their staterooms, he let out a long sigh of relief. The older man made him nervous. Not intentionally, of course. Gunther was the epitome of polite reserve, but it was that very reserve that brought back memories Levi had thought he’d long ago laid to rest. Memories of his late father—a man who, like Gunther, said little in words but spoke volumes with his half smile and expressive pale blue eyes. And his grandfather, whose strict household where Levi had lived after his parents died had been the deciding factor in his decision to run away.

“Mr. Harmon?”

Levi had been so lost in the past that he had not heard the young widow come in. Of course, even within the quiet of his luxurious car, there was always the steady rumble of the train moving over the tracks. He fixed a smile on his face and turned to greet her. “I trust everything is to your liking, Mrs. Goodloe?”

“It’s very…” She hesitated, studying the pattern of the Oriental rug that carpeted the combination dining and sitting room. She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes for an instant, then met his gaze directly. “I’m afraid that the accommodations simply won’t do,” she said. “Not at all. My family and I simply cannot stay here.”

Chapter Three

“We are on a moving train, Mrs. Goodloe.” His head was throbbing. Would these people never be satisfied?

“I appreciate that,” she replied without a hint of the sarcasm he’d infused into his comment. “I only thought that my father-in-law could perhaps share whatever accommodations Mr. Winters uses.”

“Mr. Winters? Hans?”

“Yes. I am thinking that his accommodations are… plainer and would be more comfortable for my father-in-law.”

“And where would you and Miss Goodloe stay?”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted. “It’s just that Gunther—Mr. Goodloe—seemed troubled by his surroundings. He’s of the old school and…”

“You and your sister-in-law are not?” Levi felt the twitch of a smile jerk at one corner of his mouth. He could see that she had not considered this in her zeal to assure her father-in-law’s comfort, but after a moment she offered him a tentative smile.

“We can perhaps make do if you would agree to certain minor changes that would allow Pleasant to feel more at ease.”

“What kinds of changes?”

“If we might have some plain muslin cloth—perhaps some linens that are plain, we could cover some of the more…” Her voice trailed off.

Levi closed his eyes in a vain attempt to get control of his irritation and found himself thinking about the room he had given the women for the night. The cabin had ample room for two. A sofa upholstered in Parisian brocade that folded out into a bed and an upper berth. Above the cabin door hung a painting from his collection in a thick gilded frame. The dressing table was stocked with a variety of toiletries in elegant crystal bottles, each set into a specially designed compartment to keep it secure when the train was in motion. The lighting in the room came from wall sconces that sported laughing cherubs and the floor was outfitted with a thick sheepskin rug. For people like the Goodloe family, he could see that the place might come across as anything but “plain.”

“Could we not do the same for Mr. Goodloe in my room?”

“I suppose. It’s just that he’s beginning to think that we made a mistake in accepting your kind and generous offer.” To his shock her eyes filled suddenly with tears. “Oh, Mr. Harmon, I want so much to find my son and bring him home but if my father-in-law decides we’ve made a mistake and the train stops to take on more passengers and…”

A woman’s genuine distress had always been Levi’s undoing. “Hans!”

The manservant appeared immediately. “Sir?”

“Mr. Goodloe will be bunking in with you for the duration of our trip. I apologize for any inconvenience but it’s necessary.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll see to it at once. Will there be anything else?”

“Yes, while we are at dinner, please see that Mrs. Goodloe’s stateroom is refurbished. Remove anything that shines or glitters or smacks of flamboyance. Use plain linens to make up the beds and see if you can locate a couple of those rag rugs you use at the mansion for wiping our feet inside the garden entrance to put by each bed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And cover the paintings and mirrors,” Levi added as Hans hurried off to do his bidding. “They are bolted to the walls,” he explained when he saw Hannah’s puzzled look.

“I’ll go and let the others know. May God bless you, Mr. Harmon.” She was halfway down the narrow corridor when he called her back.

“Mrs. Goodloe?”

This time her face was wreathed in a genuine and full-blown smile that took his breath away. He had intended to reassure her that her son would be found and before she knew it, she and her family would be safely back home. But the attraction that shot through him like a bolt of adrenaline before a tightrope walker steps out onto the wire for the first time made him react with the same philosophy by which he had lived his entire life. Never let the other person believe he—or she—has won.

“I am a businessman,” he began, and saw her smile falter slightly. “I rarely if ever do anything without expecting something in return.” The way her spine straightened almost imperceptibly and her chin jutted forward with just a hint of defiance fascinated him.

“I thought you had invited us here as your guests, sir.”

“That’s true.”

“Then what is your price?”

“I would like to know your given name and be allowed to call you by it when we are alone.”

Her lips worked as if trying to find words. Her eyes widened. And then to his delight she burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s a good one, Mr. Harmon. You had me going there for a moment.”

“I’m serious.”

She sobered. “My name is Hannah.”

“Hannah,” he repeated. “Well, dinner will be served in fifteen minutes, Hannah. And I assure you that the food will be plain enough even for your father-in-law.” He turned away, busying himself by flipping through a stack of messages Hans had left for him on the sideboard. He was aware that she remained standing in the doorway to the corridor but he refused to turn around.

“I’ll tell my family,” she said, and then added in the lowest possible tone to still be heard clearly. “Thank you, Levi.”

All the way back to her room, Hannah sent up pleas for forgiveness. From childhood on she had been known for her impish personality. But she was a grown woman now—a mother, a widow. Surely such mischievous behavior was beneath her. Levi Harmon could have turned her away at the door of his lavish Sarasota estate. He could have thrown up his hands and informed her that Caleb’s running away was hardly his concern. He could have done so many things other than what he had done—shown her kindness. And yet the way he had strutted about just now as if he owned everything within his view—which, of course, he did—nevertheless irritated her. And there was another cause for prayer. She sometimes suffered from a lack of patience when it came to the quirks of others. Her mother had often suggested that she look on the qualities of others that frustrated her as habits beyond their control. Such people were to be pitied, not scolded, she had advised. But her mother had never met Levi Harmon who did not inspire pity on any level.