Walter rode out from the barn to meet it. Grant came around the side of the house, wiping his hands on a rag. The woman driving the buggy wore a dark traveling coat and a practical brown hat pinned beneath her chin. She was perhaps 38, maybe 40. Her posture was straight despite the road.
A leather sat beside her. Grant stopped walking. Even from the kitchen window, Hannah saw the surprise on his face. The woman climbed down. Grant said something Hannah could not hear.
The woman answered. Then she handed him an envelope. Grant did not open it. He simply looked at it. That was when Hannah knew whoever she was.
She had not been expected. Molly saw the wagon and came running from the parlor. She reached the porch, stopped, then shouted, "Aunt Marion!" The woman's face changed completely. She knelt and opened both arms. Molly flew into them.
Henry came slower, but when the woman stood, he allowed her to pull him against her side. Hannah remained by the kitchen window. Grant looked toward the house. Their eyes met through the glass. For some reason, Hannah looked away first.
5 minutes later, Grant brought the woman inside. "Hannah," she turned from the stove. "This is Mary and Bell, Anne's sister. Marian removed her gloves. Up close, she had Molly's gray eyes and the same narrow chin Hannah had seen in an old photograph on Grant's desk.
Hannah Pierce. Yes. Marian extended her hand. I've heard your name three times since I stepped out of that buggy. Henry said, "Only three?" Marian smiled.
Four now. Hannah shook her hand. Welcome to High Meadow. Grant carried Marian's upstairs himself. Hannah noticed he still had the unopened envelope tucked into his coat pocket.
Supper that evening felt crowded with things nobody was saying. Marian told stories from Helena. Henry asked about street cars. Molly wanted to know whether Marian still kept the music box Anne had given her. Grant spoke little.
Hannah spoke less. Marion watched everybody, not rudely, carefully. When Molly reached for Hannah's hand beneath the table without thinking, Marion noticed. When Henry asked Hannah whether the flour order should be increased before the first snow, Marion noticed that, too. And when Grant reached automatically for the bread heel and placed it on Hannah's plate, Marian's eyes rested on his hand for a second longer than necessary.
Hannah felt heat climb her neck. Grant seemed not to realize what he had done until it was too late. He cleared his throat and reached for his coffee. After supper, Marion asked to speak with Grant privately. They went into the parlor.
The door did not shut completely. Hannah gathered dishes. She had no intention of listening. Then she heard Molly's name. Her hands stopped in the washwater.
Marian's voice was low. "You told me October," Grant answered. I know what I told you. I came because you asked. "I know." Hannah looked toward the doorway.
Henry was stacking plates. He had not heard. Molly was upstairs. Marion said, "Grant, I rearranged half my household because your letter said you didn't think they should stay through another winter." Hannah's fingers tightened around a plate. Grant answered so quietly she almost missed it.
Things changed. "What things?" Silence. Marian said, "Or who?" Hannah set the plate down. She should leave. She knew that.