<< Go Back

A Christmas Home for Hannah

By Joi Copeland

Order Now!

Chapter One

"Ya gotta go, Hannah-girl."
Dread ripped through Hannah Gallagher at her pappy's words. "Go?"
"I can't keep ya here. Not with your grammy gone." Pappy's blue eyes held grief, the same grief she was sure reflected in her own eyes.
Grammy, the woman who'd raised her since she was little. Sweet Grammy buried less than a month. Her death came as a shock to Hannah and her grandfather. Grammy went to collect eggs, and when too much time passed, Hannah searched for her. She found her precious grammy lying on the ground, hand clutched to her chest. They'd buried her that day.
"What do you mean?" Hannah stammered.
"I got nothin' for ya here. We're barely makin' it as it is. Now with her gone..." Pappy shook his head. "Ya gotta go. Get married. Have a better life than what I can give ya."
Hannah's eyes scanned the one-room shack she'd called home since her no-good father dropped her on her grandparents' doorstep twenty years before. Living in the backwoods of Illinois all her life, they'd never had much. A simple wood stove in one corner of the room to cook meals on, a fireplace in the other, and a bed for her grandparents. She slept on a pallet near the fireplace.
Planting her fists on her hips, she cocked her head to one side. "And just who am I supposed to marry, Pappy? Most everyone from town's taken, and no man's sought my hand in far too long."
Pappy's bushy eyebrows descended almost to the bridge of his nose. "Whose fault is that?"
Hannah waved aside his question. "Beau didn't love me, and you know it. He needed someone to take care of his passel of children."
Pappy harrumphed and tapped his gnarled finger on the papers he held. "Ya need to look at these advertisements."
Hannah narrowed her eyes. "Where did you get that?"
"I'd been savin' up some and had the preacher bring it to me when you were in town last."
Hannah peered over his shoulder. "Mail order brides?"
"Fact is, me and your Grammy talked an awful lot about it before the Lord took 'er home. We was gonna talk to ya but never got the chance."
"You both wanted me to leave?" Hurt pierced her heart. Like her father, apparently her grandparents didn't want her either.
"Ya need more than what we gave ya."
The hurt in her heart deepened. She forced it down. "Why would I leave you now? You can't stay here by yourself." Hannah moved to the stove and stirred the rabbit stew. If she could call it that. More like watery soup with a few vegetables from her garden with a chunk of the small rabbit she'd been able to shoot.
"I'll be just fine by myself. With Grammy gone, I ain't got much to live fer anyhow." Pappy's admission stilled Hannah's stirring.
She turned in slow motion. "Pappy, you have me." She crossed the small room and knelt next to his rocking chair. "I can stay and take care of you. I've done a good job so far, haven't I?"
Pappy dropped his hand on her head. "O' course ya have, Hannah-girl. But the fact is, you're young, with your whole life spread out before ya. Ya need to be married, startin’ a family. Not stuck here with nothin' but an old man."
"I don't see why." Hannah lifted her chin.
"Ya need your own life." Pappy tapped the newspaper again. "There are plenty of men lookin' for a wife. You'd have your pick."
"What could I possibly have to offer a man?" She rose and swept her hand in front of her. "Look at me, Pappy. I'm far too tall, my hair isn't black nor is it brown. It’s three different colors. My nose turns down instead of daintily turning up." Hannah shook her head. "I'm barely educated. What man wants that?"
"Now listen here, Hannah Gallagher, you're a pretty gal. There ain't nothin' wrong with your height. In my day, we called your hair beautiful. All those colors make you unique. As for your nose? Well, it ain't too big for your face, so it's pert near perfect." Pappy shook his bent finger at her. "You can read and write. That's all the education ya need."
Hannah turned from him and went back to stirring. Her own father didn't want her. And her grandparents discussed getting rid of her. Why would a man she'd never met want her? She had nothing to offer. No money to bring to the marriage, no material possessions. She grew up poor as dirt, not that she complained. She had a roof over her head, food on the table, and clothes to wear. What more did she truly need?
"Hannah," Pappy sighed her name. "There's more to this life than what we've been able to show ya. I want ya to have a family of your own. A man to love like I loved your Grammy, children to raise and be proud of like I am of you."
"I've done nothin' to earn that, Pappy. I've been a burden to you and Grammy all my life." She kept her back to her grandfather and blinked away the tears forming.
"You were never a burden, child." Pappy's groan signaled his rise from the chair. Seconds later, his wrinkled hands turned her around. "We just never had a lot to give ya. Ya deserve more."
"You gave me love. And that's all I've ever needed." She drew him into a hug. "You've always said money can't buy what we have here."
"It's true." Pappy pulled away and nodded. "Money can't buy love or happiness, but it can certainly get ya more than what I could." He shuffled back to the chair and picked up the paper. "Now, will ya at least look at this? Pick a few, write to them and see what happens."
Hannah sighed and snatched the paper out of his hand. "Fine. But don't get to thinking I'll have a pile of letters to choose from. Like I said, I don't have much to offer, and I doubt any one of these men will want a wife like me."
Pappy's grin spread across his face. "I disagree, but I'll take what I can get."
Later that night, Pappy snoozed in the rocking chair while Hannah slid the sheet of paper in front of her. How did one go about answering an ad about becoming a bride? She tapped the pencil to her nose. She promised Pappy she'd write, but that didn't mean she'd make herself better than she really was. Otherwise, she'd go into a marriage lying. And didn't Grammy always tell her God hated lying lips?
Marriage. Could she really promise to marry someone she didn't know? She stole a glance at Pappy, chin nestled against his chest, a slight snore coming from his mouth. He wanted more for her. But at what cost? At the cost of never seeing her again? He really wanted her to leave him alone, in the woods, without anyone to care for him? What if something happened to him, and he couldn't get help?
No. She wouldn't leave him alone. She'd have to talk him into going with her. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to live with herself. He's all she had left in the world. She'd watch over him, no matter what.

Dear Mr. Morrison,

I am responding to your advertisement in the Chicago paper. My name is Hannah Gallagher. I'm twenty years old, and I've never done anything like this before. Truth be told, my pappy encouraged me to write, but I have to be honest. I don't know the first thing about marriage. I don't know how to manage a household, as I've lived with my grandparents in the woods of Illinois all my life. We don't have a lot of money and live mostly off of the land. What we do own is very little. My Grammy recently passed away, and my pappy felt it time for me to strike out on my own, to have my own family. So, I'm writing to you.
If I seem agreeable to you, I welcome your letters. I do have one requirement, however. I would like to take my pappy with me. He is getting up in years, and I cannot leave him alone with no one to care for him. If this suits you, I will continue to correspond with you. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Hannah Gallagher

Hannah reread her words and nodded. She wrote the exact same letter five times to five different men from all over, even as far as California. While a trip to California may wear on her pappy, she'd convince him do it. No way was she leaving him on his own. It didn't sit right with her, and if any of these men balked about it, well, they weren't for her.
She shoved each letter into its own envelope and addressed them. If Pappy discovered what she wrote, he'd have something to say about it. The less he knew the better.
The next day, Hannah gathered up her eggs to sell at the general store and the letters. She kissed her grandfather and left him whittling outside. The day proved warm already, with the sun shining overhead and the birds calling to one another from the treetops.
Hannah stopped, closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky, letting the sun kiss her cheeks. Warmth spread over her like a comfortable blanket. Hannah opened her eyes and spread her arms, welcoming the beginning days of summer. The winters left something to be desired. Too cold and windy for her taste, especially since their cabin, if it could be called that, had cracks in the slabs, allowing the breeze to whip through the room. The snow didn't help temperatures either, but they'd survived each winter and would continue to do so.
Hannah chuckled to herself and kept moving toward town. Pappy practically glowed when she informed him she answered five advertisements while he napped after supper. The pure joy on his face sent a slight wave of guilt through her. She wasn't lying, not really. He'd understand if and when she received an answer stating he could come with her. After all, he took care of her for twenty years. She could do the same for him.
Pulling open the door to the general store, which also served as a post office, Hannah inhaled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. What she wouldn't give for a cup of the warm liquid. Too much money when she had the makings for tea right outside her door.
The store owner, Wilson Maddock, sold cups of coffee to his patrons while they shopped. Her mouth longed for the brew, but her common sense won out. She inhaled the aroma, forcing her longing to be satisfied through one of her senses.
"Morning, Hannah," he called from behind the counter, a grin on his round face. "Whatcha got for me today?"
Hannah placed her basket of eggs in front of him. "A dozen eggs today, Mr. Maddock."
He counted out each one. "They all look good. Do you want that on your account, or are ya gonna purchase something today?"
She held out her letters. "Five stamps please. If you'd set these on the coach, that'd be great."
Mr. Maddock arched a brow. "You know this many men, Hannah?"
Shaking her head, she held back a giggle. "No, sir. My pappy wants me to be a mail order bride."
Surprise flicked in Mr. Maddock's brown eyes. "Well, I'll see right to it. If you're looking to get hitched though, Hannah, I know a few men who might be willing."
"I'm sure you do, and while I appreciate that, I'll do this first for my pappy. If nothing comes from it, I'll let you know."
"I'll set aside any answers you get right here for you." Mr. Maddock gave a decisive nod of his head.
"Thank you."
Hannah left the store, butterflies dancing in her belly.
"Hannah, wait."
Hannah whipped around then smiled. Her friend, Elizabeth Baker, ran over to her. Her light eyes hinted mischief, though they almost always did. They'd been friends since Hannah was knee high to a grasshopper. More often than not, Hannah talked them out of the many scrapes Lizzie, as everyone called her, guided them into.
Growing up together, they had a lot in common. Both were quite poor, even for their little town of Chestnut Ridge. Unfortunately for Lizzie, her stepfather didn’t permit them to celebrate any holiday. As young girls, they’d gather outside the mercantile window and dream together about how to decorate their houses for Christmas when they grew up. Hannah’s eyes burned as she blinked back the tears threatening to fall. She’d never see who Lizzie married or how she celebrated the Christmas season.
"Whatcha doin' in town?" Lizzie’s yellow hair swung back and forth in a light braid. Though her friend barely reached five foot four, she stood tall, her brown dress with pink stripes accentuating her slender and womanly form.
"Pappy's making me write to men looking for mail order brides."
Lizzie’s eyes rounded to the size of a saucer. "What? And you agreed?"
Hannah shrugged her shoulders. "I don't really have a choice. He's set on me getting married, no matter how hard I try to dissuade him. I'm hoping he'll go with me. Besides, I don't have many options, do I?"
"I suppose not," her friend whispered. Something akin to fear crossed her face then disappeared. "Where are these men living?"
"All over. Colorado, New York, further west." Hannah sighed, bracing herself for Lizzie's reaction.
On cue, tears pooled in her eyes as she threw her arms around Hannah. "No! You can't go. What'll I do without you?"
Hannah returned the embrace, holding back her own set of tears. "Lizzie, it'll be okay. We can write to each other, no matter where I land. Maybe you can join me after I get settled."
Lizzie sniffed and pulled away. "You're not going to want me around when you're happily married. And where would I live?" Her friend's hair swished when she shook her head. "No. I'll have to figure out how to live without you in my life."
Hannah swallowed a lump in her throat. Hannah spent many a night at Lizzie's, laughing and imagining together. When Lizzie's pa died when she was five, Hannah stood by her friend at his graveside. When her ma remarried only a few months after his death, Lizzie stayed away from home more often than not. Several times, Lizzie asked to sleep over at Hannah's, so her grandparents didn't have to do as much with Hannah gone. "I will always be in your life. You know that."
"Promise?"
"Promise. Now, I have to get to Pappy. I'll be back in town to check on the mail every so often. Keep an eye out for me, will you?"
Lizzie nodded, hugged Hannah one more time, and walked away, shoulders drooped. Hannah shook her head at Lizzie, realizing how much she’d miss her. One day, maybe she could send for Lizzie. Perhaps Lizzie could be a mail order bride for one of the men wherever Hannah landed.
Hannah's heart skidded to a halt. Had she really just sent five letters to be a mail order bride? What if all five wanted her? She gave her head a shake. No one would want her. Not with her demanding to take Pappy, and certainly not when they got to know her. If she couldn't get her father to love her, how could she get a complete stranger to?

Order Now!

<< Go Back