be worth it. And if Mama May could only get through to her father, it wouldn’t be the whole ten months.
He had to know.
Climbing up onto the chair, she suddenly remembered how dark it would be up there, so she stepped back down and retrieved a candle and matches.
Then, with one foot on the chair’s bottom and the other on the back, she stretched tall, feeling around the opening’s edge. Her fingers touched the rope ladder, grasped it, then pulled it down.
After a good hard test yank, she put her whole weight on it and swung. Good. Just like the last time. Nothing to it. She’d be in Elijah’s room…her breath caught.
The booming doubled, beating hard against her chest.
Making herself breathe, she forced deep, calming breaths. She had to stop being silly.
She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Talking was no sin, and this was her only chance.
The overhead patter turned Elijah away from his drawing.
Squirrels? Have to be awful big ones.
Maybe an opossum. He went back to his sketch, then a soft thud echoed. He looked toward the sound and his water closet door opened. He blinked, but Cecelia didn’t vanish. “What…?”
She put a finger to her lips and beckoned him with the other hand.
He hurried to her then whispered, “What are you doing here?”
She leaned in too close. Her gorgeous mouth mere inches from his cheek. “I needed to talk with you in private. I have to.”
He nodded. He wanted the same thing. But forbidden fruit could get him in all sorts of trouble, just like it had Adam. “Your daddy will skin us both if anyone catches you in here. It’s such a risk. What’s so important?”
She put her hand on his chest. Could she feel how hard his heart was beating? It practically thundered as though it wanted to jump right out of his chest and be caressed. She could handle that, he was certain, and be gentle about it, too.
What was she doing in his room? What was she thinking, taking such a chance?
“He won’t. He’s gone, remember? And besides, Mama is working on him. I mean about me not being eighteen yet. But even if he refuses to give in…I had to come and get your promise.”
“For what?”
Even in the pale lamp light, her smile radiated. “That you’ll wait for me.”
Wait for her? She had to get out of there.
“CeCe, you’ve got to go. If you’re caught….” Her lips turned down, then puckered, but as much as he wanted to smother them with kisses, he dared not. She inched closer, but still, his resolve held.
Then she pressed those soft, full lips against his, and he closed his eyes.
Time stopped, as did his world.
Only his heart kept at its crazy pace, beating for the band.
She pushed away. “I promise you, I’m worth waiting for, Mister Eversole.”
He nodded, not trusting his voice. With all his will power—or was it God’s? In his weakness God was made strong. Isn’t that what the Good Book said?—he backed away. For a few frantic beats of his heart, she stood there.
“Promise me, please. Tell me you’ll wait for me.”
“I, uh…” He nodded again.
The biggest happiest grin stretched across her face. “I love you.” Then she turned and disappeared into his water closet and the door closed.
His feet, in cahoots with his lips, begged to follow. He took a step toward the door, but the bit of sanity he still possessed managed to stop him. He wanted a wife, a beautiful intelligent woman just like Cecelia Buckmeyer, to share his life, not a sinful night of passion.
Into the wee hours, he wrestled himself. Did Cecelia really love him? He’d only just met her, and she’d barely spent a few hours in his company. How could she love him? How could she know?
And was he really in love with Mary Rachel and only trying to replace her with one of her sisters?
What of Gwendolyn? She’d seemed more interested in him of late. And his little informant had said she wouldn’t tell him no if he asked. But then, none of the girls could marry without their
He had to know.
Climbing up onto the chair, she suddenly remembered how dark it would be up there, so she stepped back down and retrieved a candle and matches.
Then, with one foot on the chair’s bottom and the other on the back, she stretched tall, feeling around the opening’s edge. Her fingers touched the rope ladder, grasped it, then pulled it down.
After a good hard test yank, she put her whole weight on it and swung. Good. Just like the last time. Nothing to it. She’d be in Elijah’s room…her breath caught.
The booming doubled, beating hard against her chest.
Making herself breathe, she forced deep, calming breaths. She had to stop being silly.
She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Talking was no sin, and this was her only chance.
The overhead patter turned Elijah away from his drawing.
Squirrels? Have to be awful big ones.
Maybe an opossum. He went back to his sketch, then a soft thud echoed. He looked toward the sound and his water closet door opened. He blinked, but Cecelia didn’t vanish. “What…?”
She put a finger to her lips and beckoned him with the other hand.
He hurried to her then whispered, “What are you doing here?”
She leaned in too close. Her gorgeous mouth mere inches from his cheek. “I needed to talk with you in private. I have to.”
He nodded. He wanted the same thing. But forbidden fruit could get him in all sorts of trouble, just like it had Adam. “Your daddy will skin us both if anyone catches you in here. It’s such a risk. What’s so important?”
She put her hand on his chest. Could she feel how hard his heart was beating? It practically thundered as though it wanted to jump right out of his chest and be caressed. She could handle that, he was certain, and be gentle about it, too.
What was she doing in his room? What was she thinking, taking such a chance?
“He won’t. He’s gone, remember? And besides, Mama is working on him. I mean about me not being eighteen yet. But even if he refuses to give in…I had to come and get your promise.”
“For what?”
Even in the pale lamp light, her smile radiated. “That you’ll wait for me.”
Wait for her? She had to get out of there.
“CeCe, you’ve got to go. If you’re caught….” Her lips turned down, then puckered, but as much as he wanted to smother them with kisses, he dared not. She inched closer, but still, his resolve held.
Then she pressed those soft, full lips against his, and he closed his eyes.
Time stopped, as did his world.
Only his heart kept at its crazy pace, beating for the band.
She pushed away. “I promise you, I’m worth waiting for, Mister Eversole.”
He nodded, not trusting his voice. With all his will power—or was it God’s? In his weakness God was made strong. Isn’t that what the Good Book said?—he backed away. For a few frantic beats of his heart, she stood there.
“Promise me, please. Tell me you’ll wait for me.”
“I, uh…” He nodded again.
The biggest happiest grin stretched across her face. “I love you.” Then she turned and disappeared into his water closet and the door closed.
His feet, in cahoots with his lips, begged to follow. He took a step toward the door, but the bit of sanity he still possessed managed to stop him. He wanted a wife, a beautiful intelligent woman just like Cecelia Buckmeyer, to share his life, not a sinful night of passion.
Into the wee hours, he wrestled himself. Did Cecelia really love him? He’d only just met her, and she’d barely spent a few hours in his company. How could she love him? How could she know?
And was he really in love with Mary Rachel and only trying to replace her with one of her sisters?
What of Gwendolyn? She’d seemed more interested in him of late. And his little informant had said she wouldn’t tell him no if he asked. But then, none of the girls could marry without their
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