Hannah's Handkerchief Read online

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  Hannah’s Handkerchief

  Lockets and Lace

  Book 24

  (Atwell Kin ~ Book 4)

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  Zina Abbott

  Copyright © 2020 Robyn Echols writing as Zina Abbott

  All rights reserved.

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  Dedication

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  This book is dedicated to

  The hard-working authors of the Sweet Americana Sweethearts blog who provide the world with sweet/clean historical romances about North Americans between 1820 and 1929.

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  Acknowledgements

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  This book is part of a multi-author series sponsored by the authors who write for the Sweet Americana Sweethearts blog. My appreciation and thanks go to those other authors who helped develop the Lockets & Lace series of books.

  A special thank you goes to

  Linda Carroll-Bradd of Lustre Editing for proof-reading this manuscript,

  To Virginia McKevitt of Black Widow Covers for the book cover,

  and to

  Evelyne Labelle of Carpe Librum Book Design for the series logo design.

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  Disclaimer

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  All the characters described in this story are fictional. They are not based on any real persons, past or present. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, is coincidental and unintended.

  1865 Kansas Map

  Showing major trails and frontier forts

  Not to scale

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  Chapter 1

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  Ft. Riley, Kansas

  April 1865

  H annah Atwell’s footsteps slowed and gradually veered toward the long dining table that dominated the room. They halted behind one of the cherrywood chairs and she leaned forward to examine in detail the china plate rimmed with dainty yellow flowers embedded in a soft green wreath pattern around the outer edge. A glance to the side told her the cup and saucer were part of the same set. All rested on a pristine white linen tablecloth, each dinner plate flanked by silverware—not tin flatware like her family back in Salina used, but real silverware.

  What was more, more forks and spoons surrounded each plate than she ever would have imagined one person needed to eat a meal. A stemmed wine goblet stood behind each place setting, and a folded linen napkin placed to the left side. In the center, a silver candelabra, its arms spread, held five white candles.

  Hannah sucked in her breath as she counted the number of place settings. Ten, and everything matched. It was all so beautiful.

  “Come, dear. The room I’ve put you and your cousin in for the night is up these stairs.”

  Wearing her most accommodating smile, Hannah turned to the captain’s wife, her hostess for the evening. “Thank you, Mrs. Prescott. I was admiring your table setting.”

  Permelia Prescott lips twitched, and then she spread them into their classic smile before she advanced on the staircase. “Yes, it is for the senior officers’ dinner that will take place shortly. We have visitors down from Fort Leavenworth for the social this evening. Since the major’s wife is still back east, it fell to me to host the meal, even though I ended up with the lion’s share of the responsibility for this evening’s dance and supper buffet. It will be a busy time, getting everything washed up and ready for tonight. I just hope the gentlemen do not linger over their meal too long.”

  Gripping her small carpetbag, Hannah followed her hostess and placed her foot on the bottom stair. “Mrs. Prescott, I’ll be happy to help wash dishes or do anything you need done in the kitchen. I appreciate your invitation to my cousin and me to stay here so we may attend tonight’s celebration, but I don’t want to be an additional burden to you.”

  Mrs. Prescott stopped and turned to face her.

  “Thank you, dear, that’s very thoughtful. However, I’ve already hired extra workers from among some of the wives here at the fort. They are grateful for the pay they will receive. In addition, the other officers’ wives will assist with tonight’s decorations and food.” She paused and gave Hannah a knowing grin. “We’ll all be bringing our china plates and cups for the midnight buffet. Perhaps you’ll enjoy seeing the different colors and patterns on the dishes.”

  A flush started at the base of Hannah’s neck. No doubt, her interest in the elegant place setting confirmed she was nothing but a simple farmer’s daughter, one not accustomed to the finer things in life. “I do like pretty things for the house. I’m sure I’ll enjoy seeing the different styles of china.”

  Permelia turned to continue up the stairs. “I just hope I have sufficiently impressed on my kitchen help that china is not as sturdy as crockware. It will break if not handled carefully.” She shook her head. “I would think most of these officers have been taught how to hold china. I imagine tonight we’ll find out.” She paused and turned back to Hannah once more. “That’s another reason when I spoke to the captain about this, I insisted there would be no spirits tonight, either directly from a decanter or in the punchbowl. Not only do I not want any of our female guests to suffer discomfort by being in the presence of misbehaving gentlemen, I want all the ladies’ china to survive this event.”

  Hannah finished climbing the stairs and followed her hostess down a narrow hall. Misbehaving gentlemen? What I have gotten myself into?

  When Captain Prescott came out to check on the newest colt born to Kizzie’s mare, Sugarcone, he issued the invitation to both her father and Uncle Sidney requesting that she and Kizzie attend the dance. The occasion was to celebrate the surrender of General Lee and the virtual end of the war with the Southern states. It was also being used as a means of raising funds for the Sanitary Commission which provided medical supplies and trained nurses to help those soldiers injured in the war. To sweeten the deal, the captain promised his wife would see the girls wore ballgowns left behind by their married daughter so there would be no clothing expense for the two families.

  Hannah had held her breath while her parents considered whether or not to allow her to go. In the end, they decided it would be good for continued business with the fort, including the forts being built in western Kansas, if they did. Her father, the practically-minded, not-easily-excited brother of the pair, insisted on escorting the girls.

  As much as she loved her cousin, Hannah had learned on occasion Kizzie would make fun of her by calling her “the perfect daughter” or “the perfect sister.” Why Kizzie felt so jealous because Hannah chose to behave like a lady the way her mother taught her, and generally tried to be obedient, she did not know. It probably had more to do with Kizzie often being criticized because she liked to be outdoors more than inside. She wore trousers instead of dresses when working outside. She much preferred to spend time with her horse than with other young women their age. Her friends included a freighter—the kind of occupation held by men who generally lived a rough life and conducted themselves outside of acceptable societal norms—and a man who was half Kaw Indian. Hannah had met them both, and they seemed nice enough. She knew Kizzie was excited that the freighter’s horse served as stud to her mare, and they had produced some nice foals. She also suspected Kizzie was sweet on him, although she had never said so.

  However, unlike her cousin, Hannah chose to spend her time with her female relatives or the other girls her age at church. She saw no reason to argue with her parents, because she would end up having to do what she was told, anyway. />
  Mrs. Prescott’s words brought Hannah back to the present.

  “Here is the room where you and your cousin will be staying. Hannah, is it? And your cousin with the brunette hair is Kizziah?”

  “Yes, I’m Hannah. My cousin actually prefers to be called Kizzie.”

  “Ah. A cute nickname. I’ll try to remember.” She paused and her forehead wrinkled. “Where is your cousin?”

  Hannah suspected Mrs. Prescott was not impressed with Kizzie’s nickname. She would probably be even less impressed with her cousin once she knew the most likely place where Kizzie could be found. “I’m not sure, but I suspect she is either taking care of her horse or persuading the head of your stables to take her to see the foal that came from her mare—the one your husband bought. If any of your horses are being shod, she’ll want to watch. She…um…she likes to spend more time with animals, particularly horses, than I do.” As she watched Mrs. Prescott purse her lips in what she guessed was disapproval, Hannah regretted sharing as much as she had about her cousin.

  “I doubt they’ll let her see the horse, let alone fuss over him. She must understand, once a horse belongs to the military, we need it to be able to work hard. They are not pampered.”

  Hannah nodded. “She knows.” I hope. When it comes to Kizzie and horses, there’s no telling how she will react if she doesn’t like what she sees.

  Mrs. Prescott smoothed the lines of disapproval from her face as she focused on Hannah. “It seems like you and your cousins are very different in some ways.”

  Hannah nodded. “Yes, we are.” What is so wrong with that?

  “If you like, perhaps later I can find someone to escort you for a short walk around the fort. For the time being, I ask that you and your cousin not wander around the house, especially once the officers’ dinner is taking place. I hope you will be comfortable here.” She motioned to a chair with an upholstered seat cushion. “Do you have something to read?”

  Hannah patted the carpetbag. “Yes, I brought a book. I also have some embroidery to work on. I’ll be fine until you’re ready for me. And, please, if you find you need extra help, come and get me.”

  “I will, dear. For now, sit here and relax. Since this dance will last so late, it might be wise if you turned down your bed covers and rested for a couple of hours.” Muttering under her breath, Permelia Prescott turned to exit the door. “Now to find the cousin and get her situated.”

  Once she found herself alone in the room with the door closed, Hannah stared at the chair with its striped cushion. Too excited about being at the fort for a social, she could not bring herself to sit. Instead, she paced the floor.

  It was happening. Tonight, she would attend a fancy ball. She would wear a ballgown, maybe one made of satin or brocade—some fabric, she felt sure, that would be far finer than any used to make her best occasion dresses at home.

  When her parents finally agreed she could come, Hannah had barely kept from blurting out her delight and dancing around the house. However, she forced herself to remain still, offering nothing more than a pleased smile. She knew her wisest course of action was to not reveal her excitement at the prospect of attending a dance other than at a church or Salina community social—usually the same thing. They might decide she was still too young and immature.

  From the time the Atwells had moved from Missouri to Salina, except for when the entire family fled their homes when the Arapaho rampaged the countryside to the west and threatened Salina, she had not traveled far from her home. Even then, they stopped at Junction City instead of continuing the last five miles to the fort. But, now, she had arrived at Fort Riley. Tonight, she would dance with sophisticated officers, some with college educations, most of them West Point graduates—a far cry from the sons of shopkeepers and farmers back home.

  Hannah turned seventeen two months earlier. For her, this dance would be comparable to a cotillion, or a coming out social such as she had read took place among the aristocracy in Britain or even high society in this country. This event would mark her entry into womanhood and availability to be courted. Since moving to Salina, she knew of a few local girls who married at her age. Hannah had no one she wished to marry at this time, but she was open to the idea, if she could find the right man.

  However, her parents had let it be known they preferred she wait until she was a few years older to be courted. From comments made, she gathered they worried she would want to marry the first boy she felt attracted to, only to discover later, after it was too late, she did not really love him and had chosen poorly.

  Hannah smiled at the thought. It was already too late for her to insist on marrying the first young man who had caught her fancy. For several years now, she found boys fascinating. A few of them had sent her giddy with infatuation. As much as she sought to spend time with them, she had not wished to marry any.

  Hannah opened her carpetbag. She fingered the book but rejected it in favor of her latest embroidery project, a handkerchief she was doing in pink flowers and green stems and leaves. She had already rolled and hemmed the edges but had not yet crocheted a lacy border on it. She pulled out the smaller bag holding her project, her thread, and scissors, and forced herself to sit in the chair. Twisting to catch the light from the window, she continued the floral design on the third corner.

  Perhaps after tonight, Mama and Papa will stop saying I need to wait until I’m older before I’m ready to choose a husband. After all, I’ve tried to show how willing I am to listen to them by being as obedient as possible.

  As a thought struck, Hannah dropped her hands holding the project in her lap, causing her needle to prick her. She jerked her finger away and raised it to her lips to lick the drop of blood from her broken skin.

  What if the reason her parents did not think she was ready to make her own decisions was because she always tried to be obedient? What if they believed, because she seldom acted independently, especially when it came to going against their wishes, she did not know how to think for herself? What if they thought she was incapable of knowing her own mind—knowing what she truly wanted from life?

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  Chapter 2

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  H annah bit her lip as she watched her cousin. In response to Mrs. Prescott’s invitation to pick out a gown from the armoire before them, Kizzie make a discontented face. Hannah had grown almost giddy when Mrs. Prescott brought out a selection of supposedly outdated ball gowns left behind by her married daughter. As far as Hannah was concerned, they were beautiful and not that far out of style. She eagerly waited to try several of them on and choose one to wear that night.

  On the other hand, once Kizzie put on the underpinnings, she acted pained while wearing the gowns. The pink satin confection the captain’s wife chose for her set off her cousin’s hair and complexion to perfection. Yet, Kizzie barely managed to keep a civil expression on her face, even after having her hair styled and gorgeous earbobs placed on her earlobes.

  When asked if she had a nice handkerchief she could tuck into the skirt’s hidden pocket in the event of need, Kizzie brought out a plain, white linen square.

  Like all the women in their family, Kizzie knew how to sew. However, Hannah was aware her cousin preferred to stick with basic designs, thus the neatly hemmed handkerchief void of adornment.

  Hannah reached for her partially finished handkerchief and offered it to Kizzie.

  She had finished stitching the design on three corners that afternoon. It still lacked the design on the fourth corner and edging she intended to crochet on it, but the pink flowers would complement Kizzie’s ballgown. “Here, Kizzie, perhaps you would like to carry this one.” When her cousin thanked her and accepted the loan of the handkerchief without making a fuss about it. Hannah almost sighed with relief.

  Hannah felt like she was living a dream. She did not care if the corset felt stiff and constricted her movement. She did not care if the satin slippers that went with each gow
n were slightly too small and pinched her feet. The gowns were the most beautiful clothes she had ever worn. Mrs. Prescott decided Hannah should wear a light blue satin gown which set off her wavy blonde hair and brought out the blue in her eyes. After viewing her image in the mirror, Hannah agreed. She felt like a princess once she was fully clothed, including the jewelry intended for the gown, and her hair was styled. Fortunately, she had thought to bring her favorite handkerchief to date that she had made. It was similar to the partially finished one in pink, except Hannah made it with two shades of blue thread. She tucked it inside the pocket of her gown just before she turned side to side while studying herself in the mirror.

  Hannah looked beautiful—prettier than usual. As much as she reminded herself to express gratitude for the gift God had given her, she hated when people accused her of being vain about her looks. She tried her best not to act vain. What most people did not consider was the effects of the improper remarks made about her and to her, especially by uncouth men or jealous women, because of her outward appearance. Only she knew how much those words hurt. However, this night, she was thrilled that Mrs. Prescott had dressed her to her best advantage. She felt confident she would catch the eye of many a male admirer. Even though it would be only for one night before she returned to her humdrum everyday life, at least she would have this magical night to remember. After all, this dance was her coming out ball.

  If only Kizzie doesn’t ruin everything.

  Unfortunately, Hannah knew Kizzie did not share Hannah’s enthusiasm for the dance. Her cousin would not hesitate to say something rude or kick up a fuss about something she disagreed with. Hannah offered a silent prayer Kizzie would not behave in an unappreciative manner toward Capt. and Mrs. Prescott. If she did, they might refuse to have anything to do with her again.