A smile transformed her face, dimples forming on both cheeks. She ran toward him, her arms stretching wide to hug him the way she always had.
“Miss Lansing,” the butler said, and coughed discreetly.
Immediately Hannah slowed, and the smile disappeared into tightly pressed lips as she lowered her arms. The transformation cautioned him. Guess she was a young lady more than a girl now.
She stopped a full three feet from him. Hello, Caleb, she signed. How lovely to see you. She was suddenly so stiff and formal that he half expected her to curtsy. Before he could answer, she wrinkled her small nose. You smell like fish.
He raised a brow. So the imp was still inside her. Reading her sign language came back to him naturally, as if he’d never had a four-year hiatus—a surprise after all he’d lived through in the north country. He looked closer at her, noting the changes. Still the same heart-shaped face, the same big gray eyes, but the young waif was turning into a butterfly. She carried herself as if she was royalty coming to call. A comb sparkled in the upsweep of her pale blond hair. Diamonds? Most likely...
“Miss,” the butler cleared his throat again.
Her hands flew in beautiful rhythmic patterns. I’m fine, Edward. Really. You may go.
Caleb hadn’t expected the way she spoke with her hands to be so elegant, so...so graceful. It was like a dance—mesmerizing.
Edward frowned but did as he was instructed and disappeared into a side room.
“Well, aren’t you all grown up, Miss Hannah?” Caleb emphasized the miss to tease her. He’d never called her anything but Hannah or peanut. She might not be able to speak, but her hearing was just fine. “And looking mighty pretty for your birthday celebration.”
Her cheeks colored. That was new. She’d never blushed before when he teased, and he always teased her. Mostly she’d tease right back or stomp off in a huff.
Laughter filtered in from down the hall, drawing her attention. She turned back to him. Won’t you come join us?
He’d rather drink a gallon of seawater. “I don’t fancy meetin’ a bunch of strangers just now. I’m fresh off the boat and could use a shave and a haircut.” He ran his palm over the four days’ growth of bristles on his face in emphasis. “Just let Rachel know I’ll be at the house.”
But you just got here! I want to hear all about what you’ve been doing.
The warmth of her greeting relieved him. He hadn’t known how she would be—growing up in this huge mansion and after all these years. He’d halfway wondered if she’d forget about him.
She glanced down the hall, pressed her finger to her lips and then grabbed his hand and pulled him the other way—outside. She led him down the front steps and onto a path through a flowering trellis that led to a large rose garden. Their floral scent filled the warm evening air along with something he hadn’t smelled in years—night-blooming jasmine. In the center of the garden, a bronze sundial stood next to a wrought iron swing. She sat down, a conspiratorial smile on her face, and patted the bench seat beside her.
He took care not to crush her fancy party dress as he joined her. “Just what are you up to, Hannah-girl?”
Her eyes shone, drinking him in and making him feel all of ten feet tall. You were gone a very long time. Where have you been?
“Alaska mostly.”
Her eyes widened into saucers. Looking for gold? Did you find any?
He chuckled, enjoying her exuberance. He gave a push with his feet to set the swing in gentle motion. “Some. Bears, too. Big black ones.”
You are lucky to have so many adventures—see so many new places.
“You’re pretty lucky yourself.” He tilted his chin toward the mansion behind her. “This looks like a big adventure in its own way.”
Instead of agreeing, like he thought she would, her shoulders sank, the movement nearly imperceptible.
He hadn’t intended to put a damper on the day. After all, it was her birthday party. “So how have you been, Miss Hannah?”
She blinked and seemed to shake off the mood. Next week I’m going to see a man about my voice.
Apprehension tasted sour in his stomach. “Thought you’d been down that road before.”
She frowned. I thought, of all people, you’d understand best.
Great. He hadn’t been here five minutes and they were arguing. “Understand what? Understand how many times you’ve had your hopes trampled? This isn’t some endurance contest, Hannah. You were all broke up the last time when it didn’t work like you hoped.”
But this is different.
“How so?”
It’s called hypnosis.
Coldness spread through his gut. “Like at a carnival? Some mind reader playing tricks with your brain?”
It won’t be like that. He’d be doing it to help me, not to make fun.
“Sounds crazy to me. Crazy and dangerous.”
She wilted at his words. Must have thought he’d be as enthusiastic as she was. He felt bad—selfish even—for throwin’ cold water on her hope. “I’m sorry I can’t be more excited for you. I just don’t want to see you hurt again. To my way of thinkin’ you’re fine just the way you are.”
That’s because you can read my hands. Not everyone can and... Her hands dropped to her lap.
“And what?” he prodded, knowing his voice was harsh and not caring. The gal would keep at this like a dog worrying a sore paw.
I...I... She squeezed shut her eyes. Never mind. I’m sorry I spoke of it.
Now he really felt like an ass. He just didn’t want to see her hurt. “Go on. I won’t laugh or give you any more grief.”
She took a deep breath. I want to sing.
It was a dream any young girl might have—rich or poor. Taken by surprise, he grinned. “Guess I’d like to hear that myself.”
You’re just scared I’ll talk too much once I learn how.
He smirked. That sounded more like the Hannah he knew—a bit on the sassy side. “Could be. But whatever happens—whether this hypnosis thing works or not—you’re still Hannah to me. Nothing can change that.” He said the words to convince himself. She was changing—right before his eyes, she was growing up.
A coyote howled in the distance, and the sound pulled him from his thoughts. The stars were popping out, too. Guess he best say what he’d come to say so she could get back to her party. He fished in his pocket and pulled out the leather pouch. “I...ah...have a little something for you—for luck.”
Her eyes took on a sparkle. A birthday present?
“Call it that if you want. Been carryin’ it for a while. It’s not much.” He handed her the pouch.
She loosened the drawstring cord and upended the bag. The necklace he’d had made slid into her waiting palm—a swirl of silver and abalone in the warm twilight. He watched for her reaction.
Her eyes opened wide in recognition.
She remembered. Unaccountably pleased, he said, “I’ve had that piece of shell with me ever since we found it on the beach. Been my good-luck piece. Figured it was your turn to have it.”
It...it is lovely. Will you put it on me?
She