Hannah's Handkerchief Read online

  Hannah recalled the remark by the captain’s wife about how unlike each other she and Kizzie were. Usually, Hannah saw no problem with the two of them being so different in personality and interests. However, if Kizzie ruined tonight for Hannah, her thoughts on that topic might change.

  Even though Kizzie was a year older than Hannah, she had never heard of an occasion where her cousin had been invited to a big, fancy dance like this one at the fort—one with a roomful of handsome Army officers eager to guide her around the floor. She knew Kizzie could dance. Hannah’s Aunt Mima and her own mother, Carlotte, had pressed Hannah’s three brothers, Otto, Carl, and Henry, plus her cousin Jesse, into service to partner with her, her younger sister, Margarete, and her cousins, Kizzie and Meredith. Like it or not, they all learned to dance. However, like Hannah, before this night, Kizzie had only attended the same local socials—such as they were—in Salina.

  This night was her chance to broaden her horizons and connect with people outside the small sphere of Salina society. Tonight, she might find a beau or two among the well-educated, handsome officers who now worked toward a career with the military. Don’t you ruin this for me, Kizzie, or you will find out I am not always the perfect daughter like you think.

  Hannah sent up another silent prayer. And, please, let Papa behave tonight and let me have my fun. You know how he can be.

  At last, it was time for the dance. Mrs. Prescott escorted both her and Kizzie to the area that had been converted into a ballroom. The sight of the throng of officers, dressed smartly in their dark blue uniforms, mixed among ladies in their colorful ballroom gowns, set Hannah’s heart and mind whirling. This would be an event of a lifetime.

  Hannah’s suspicions that her cousin still sighed over Leander Jones, the freighter whose stallion sired the foals born to Kizzie’s mare, again proved true when the man entered the room. In spite of him being all cleaned up and wearing a store-bought readymade suit, she recognized him right away. Once he arrived, Kizzie’s face lit up with a glow from within. Her cousin’s attention focused on him at the exclusion of everyone else, even when she danced with the different officers in attendance.

  Hannah could not keep from smiling and saying, “Thank you” as the young officers—and some not so young—who asked to dance with her complimented her appearance. There were a few men in civilian dress among the crowd. They probably had been invited because, like her father, they did business with the fort.

  One officer in particular caught Hannah’s eye. She had learned enough about the insignia on his uniform to know he was a first lieutenant. Her eyes quickly roamed across the slightly-built, but well-formed, stature of the man perhaps five to six years her senior. His neatly trimmed and groomed dark brown hair and his warm brown eyes were set off by a sun-kissed complexion that testified he had recently spent time outdoors.

  It was not only his dark, handsome appearance that attracted her. She had seen him somewhere else before this night. Where? However, she could not focus too much attention on the question right then, not with all the offers to dance coming from men in their smart-looking dress uniforms.

  Finally, he stood before her and asked for the next dance, which happened to be a waltz. She noticed he was not more than three inches taller. Although compactly built, his broad shoulders and narrow waist filled out his uniform well. His dark brown eyes appeared to dance with a light that came from a different source than those that lit the ballroom.

  “May I please introduce myself? I’m Lt. Burdock.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant. I’m Miss Atwell.” Much to Hannah’s chagrin, Mrs. Prescott had earlier coached both her and Kizzie not to offer their first names.

  “Ah. I have already had the pleasure of meeting another Miss Atwell this night.”

  Hannah had to force herself to keep from grimacing. She did not want Lt. Burdock to be overly impressed with Kizzie. Instead, she smiled sweetly. “Yes. That would be my cousin. I’m Miss Hannah Atwell.” Take that, Kizzie, for always calling me the perfect daughter. So what if I disobeyed Mrs. Prescott’s rule?

  “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Hannah Atwell. I work with Capt. Prescott in the Quartermaster Corps. I believe we visited the Atwell farm a couple of months ago to check on a horse we will be buying.”

  Behind her smile, Hannah clenched her teeth. “That would have been my uncle’s farm. Our place is farther down the lane.” Good. If he came that way again, he would know where to find her.

  “Your uncle?” Burdock stretched and glanced around the room. “I don’t see the gentlemen.”

  “Uncle Sidney didn’t come tonight. My cousin and I came with my father. I believe he’s stepped out.” Thankfully. “But he usually handles the family’s cattle sales to the fort.”

  Hannah had not needed to search the room in order to make her last declaration with authority. After his initial greetings, Jefferson Atwell, had made his excuses and disappeared outside the building. Hannah suppressed a sigh as she gazed into the lieutenant’s eyes. Unlike her, who loved nothing better than being here socializing with the officers of the fort, her father would not have come to a social gathering like this if Capt. Prescott had not pressed. He had not wanted her father to be present as much as he wanted the two Atwell cousins who were just the right age to provide the female society the fort’s officers desired to celebrate the end of the Civil War.

  She and Lt. Burdock chatted about inconsequential topics while Hannah struggled to recall where and when in the past she had seen the handsome lieutenant with whom she now danced.

  As soon as she recognized the band played the last few strains signaling the dance would soon come to an end, Hannah felt a wave of disappointment. She would still have several dances ahead of her. However, she was not ready to end her time with Lt. Burdock. With reluctance, as the last note ended, Hannah stepped away. Her hand trailed from the lieutenant’s shoulder down his arm, even as he failed to release the other.

  Instead, he brought her right hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “We still have the last of our supplies at the Salina Stockade to pack up and return to the fort, probably next week. If it is agreeable, now I know where you live, I’ll make every effort to stop by your home for a quick visit.”

  Hannah rounded her eyes as she offered him a wide grin. “Yes, that would be agreeable. I look forward to seeing you again, Lt. Burdock.”

  She now knew where she had seen him before. She had been shopping with her mother and Grandma Mary in Salina several weeks earlier. They had passed by the stockade built there the year before to serve as an outpost to protect the town and outlying areas from attacks by hostile native tribes. Lt. Burdock, riding at the head of a column of men, arrived at the stockade where he conferred with the officer in charge. Although her mother had hurried her away from the scene, admonishing her to not gawk at the soldiers, her gaze kept seeking them out, especially the officer in the lead sitting so straight in his saddle. It was not long after this that the men began the process of abandoning the stockade, and she wondered if she would ever see those soldiers again.

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  Chapter 3

  ~o0o~

  N ow, with the band putting their instruments away and Mrs. Prescott announcing the next activity, Hannah felt her attention divided between her cousin and the captain’s wife. The more Mrs. Prescott explained what would be taking place next—a fund-raiser for the Sanitary Commission to help the wounded and sick Union soldiers still in hospitals—the more disgruntled the expression on Kizzie’s face grew. It seemed the event involved innocent kisses—the type Mrs. Prescott assured her listeners were in good taste, all in fun, and for a good cause.

  Hannah readily accepted Mrs. Prescott’s assurances. Mostly, she felt excitement over the prospect of being able to kiss several handsome men without worrying she was behaving unseemly and that she had opened the door to them expecting improper behavior.

  Unlike the dull farm boys
back home who acted more like brothers to her, she had been having the time of her life dancing with all these mostly young, virile men in uniform. They seemed to know how to talk about something other than crops, livestock, and the weather. They knew how to compliment a woman to make her feel like a princess. She would love nothing more than the opportunity to kiss some of the men who had danced with her, or even a few who, between dances, had stood in groups around her to offer flattering words. The ones she would just as soon not kiss, even in fun, she could endure for the sake of a chance to kiss the others.

  She blinked and forced her focus back to Mrs. Prescott’s instructions. “However, gentlemen, it will cost you—all for our glorious cause, of course. And all are expected to honor the rules I set forth so as to not embarrass any of these young ladies who are being good sports by participating.”

  Unable to hide her anticipation, Hannah glanced at her cousin. From the sullen expression Kizzie wore, she planned to spoil the fun.

  As she looked around the room, Hannah did not see her father. She may need to obey him, but there was nothing to say she needed to obey her wild cousin just because said cousin was too unsophisticated to have ever kissed a man before.

  Mrs. Prescott continued the explanation of the rules. “Both the gentlemen and the ladies will clasp their hands behind their own backs. There will be no physical contact between them except for a chaste kiss on the lips. No more than one kiss per young lady. And, gentlemen, there will be no attempt to part any young woman’s lips. If that should take place, I have been assured by Capt. Prescott the offender will be immediately removed from the ballroom and will spend the balance of the evening in the stockade. Is that clear?”

  A low grumble of disappointment echoed through the room.

  Her lips parted, Hannah turned to her cousin. How well was Kizzie accepting this?

  Mrs. Prescott raised her fist, which held several slips of paper above her head. “Now, I have tickets!”

  As Hannah watched Mrs. Prescott do a brisk business of selling tickets to the gentlemen who crowded around her, she watched her cousin’s expression gradually tighten deeper into a scowl. Hannah had to do something to keep Kizzie from dragging her out of the room. Before she could speak, she watched as Mrs. Prescott’s gloved fingers reached over and restrained Kizzie’s arm.

  “Oh, please don’t leave us, dear.”

  Mrs. Prescott reached to grab Hannah’s arm, also. Hannah suspected the expression on her face revealed she was reluctantly ready to follow Kizzie rather than publicly endure one of her cousin’s embarrassing displays of defiance. “I know I sort of sprung this on you ladies at the last minute. However, it will mean so much to these men and our cause if you will join in this little game. I have older married officers and their wives prepared to make sure each of our participating officers do not forget they are gentlemen. You are some of the prettiest young women here. They will be so disappointed if you leave.”

  Kizzie looked around, as if trying to find the prettiest young women in the room.

  Hannah suppressed a giggle. She suspected her cousin, with her clear olive complexion and round brown eyes, honestly did not realize how beautiful she appeared when dressed in a flattering gown with her curly, dark brown hair styled.

  She watched her cousin glance around the room and guessed she was looking for Hannah’s father. She must have realized the man escaped as soon as he politely could and had not bothered to return to check on his two charges.

  Hannah saw her chance. She turned to her cousin with a calculating look that warned she might be the perfect daughter and the perfect sister, but she had no intention of being the perfect cousin—at least not that night. “It is for a good cause, Kizzie. I think it will be all right as long as they make sure the men behave, don’t you?”

  “Please, girls. I’m sure you’ve kissed a sweetheart behind a tree after church or school classes. This will be even more chaste than that.”

  Hannah had kissed a couple of boys when no one was around, but she doubted her cousin had. Would Kizzie admit to it publicly like this?

  Hannah smiled at the moment she knew the woman had won her cousin over.

  “You’re right, Hannah. It’s for a good cause, so we’ll go along with Mrs. Prescott’s plan.”

  Mrs. Prescott clapped her hands. “Wonderful! Yes, we’ll see these gentlemen remember their manners.” She stepped back and addressed all the single women participating in the fund-raiser. “Let’s all line up, now, and kiss for the cause.”

  Mrs. Prescott positioned each single woman so there was enough space between them to allow for a chaperone couple to flank them. The older couple Kizzie drew looked less than enthusiastic about the game, but the young captain and his wife who ended up as Hannah’s chaperones did not appear like they would be as exacting. Still, Hannah hoped none of the men who came to her line would subject her to any embarrassing kisses. She smiled wide as she realized a long line formed in front of her. A shiver of excitement coursed through her. A quick glance around the room assured her she had the most men lined up for one of her kisses—more, even, than her cousin.

  Hannah quickly found herself having more fun than she could recall experiencing for some time. Gallant officer after officer—interspersed by a few well-dressed gentlemen she guessed, had been invited because they had business dealings with the fort—stood in her line, ticket in hand. Once it was their turn, they offered her compliments and leaned in for a kiss. She was used to people praising her natural beauty. However, she had never before felt so flattered and appreciated in her life.

  Since each ticket-holder was restricted to receiving one kiss per woman, Hannah soon realized she could see the end of her line. The twinges in her feet and lower back assured her she had been standing and bending forward to offer kisses for quite some time. No matter, she would not have traded her comfort for freedom from this experience for anything. She could rest another time, when the opportunity to be admired by so many young, handsome men had passed.

  “Thank you for the dance earlier, Miss Hannah. It has been such a pleasure to meet you.”

  Upon hearing the familiar voice, Hannah blinked. She offered the lieutenant standing before a smile that showcased her pretty even, white teeth. “It was a pleasure, Lieutenant…”

  Hannah was sure the man had introduced himself when they had danced. She would never forget his face, or how she felt being close to him as she danced in his arms. However, after meeting with so many, she could not remember names. How could I not remember his name?

  “Burdock. Lt. Burdock. Jake.”

  Hannah felt the heat of a flush brightened her face. “Thank you, Lt. Burdock.”

  Lt. Burdock handed his ticket to Hannah’s chaperone. Their gazes locked upon the other, they each leaned in so the lieutenant could claim his kiss.

  Hannah had noted the differences in the various male lips she had kissed that night. Some were hard, stiff, almost as if reluctant or shy. Others were damp and mushy. Many kisses were quite pleasant, far better than the kisses from the inexperienced Salina boys.

  A few times, early on, she had shuddered as a man standing before her licked his lips as he prepared for the kiss. The husband of the chaperone pair each time had ordered the man, on pain of spending the rest of the night in the stockade, to first wipe his face with a clean handkerchief. The word must have spread back through the line, for after the third attempt, no one tried for a slobbery kiss.

  However, when Hannah’s lips met those of Jake Burdock, she immediately recognized his kiss differed from all the others. The warmth and tenderness of his kiss captivated her like none other that evening. She closed her eyes to focus on the sensation, leaning forward to delay the end. Her female chaperone cleared her throat. Hannah recognized it as a gentle prompt to finish.

  Her lips still parted in wonder, Hannah eased away from the man before her. She continued to study his face, gratified that his eyes appeared to be captured by her gaze. For the first time that eveni
ng, Hannah did not want to move on to the next man. She no longer wished to hear more words of praise. She felt no desire to experience another kiss. She wished to remain with this man—Jake Burdock.

  A commotion at the doorway caught Hannah’s attention. She jerked her head towards it as she recognized her father’s loud, agitated voice. A glance at her cousin told her Kizzie also knew her father, displeasure imprinted on his face, barreled across the floor towards them.

  Hannah jerked her head back to face the lieutenant whose kiss had captivated her, sure her face telegraphed to Lt. Burdock the dismay and regret she felt inside. Her words came out so soft, only he could hear. “My father…”

  His gaze never left her face. “Jake Burdock. Remember me.”

  “I demand you stop this right now. What on earth is going on with my daughter and my niece kissing a room full of strangers? I won’t have it.” Everyone grew quiet and those around Hannah stood in place without moving as Jefferson Atwell’s voice boomed.

  Hannah jerked her head to gauge her father’s approach, then she turned back, a breathy quality to her voice. “Hannah Atwell. I will.”

  The fingers of Hannah’s left hand fumbled at the waistband of her ball gown as they searched for the opening to the pocket. Sliding between the smooth folds of fabric, they closed around the white handkerchief with its blue flowers she had so carefully edged with a blue crocheted lacy design. Partially wadding it to hide it from curious eyes, she reached her hand towards Jake Burdock.

  Once he realized she meant to hand him something, he snatched it from her grasp and buried it inside his fingers. He then stepped back and to the side to prevent jostling the man behind him.

  Ignoring the officers still standing before his daughter, Jefferson Atwell, his jaw clenched and his eyes shooting fire, strode until he stood next to Hannah. He glanced between the two cousins. “Hannah? Kizzie? What is the meaning of this? I thought you girls were raised better than to behave so brazenly.”