windows, one of which overlooked a gentle slope leading to a stream, easily identified by the strip of wooded area that wound across the landscape with the flow of the water.
“What a lovely place to live.” Her breath caught. She hadn’t meant to sound so emotional.
“When I selected this site, Sweetwater was still a row of tents and clapboard stores,” he said while moving crates. She turned to look at him. He had rolled back his sleeves over corded forearms with a dusting of dark hair. “I had my heart set on building a house here. Raising a family.” He paused to gaze out over the countryside. “Life takes unpredictable twists.”
He meant his wife’s death, obviously. Ella moved to the simple screen door that opened onto the yard. All she had to do was open that door and walk outside. No one would stop her.
She tested her freedom by flipping up the flimsy hook that held the door shut. She turned to look behind her and confirm that the door that led from the house to the porch was the one that locked for safety purposes.
“Something wrong?”
She shook her head.
“Even if someone broke that hook and eye and came into the porch, they couldn’t get in the house,” he assured her.
“I see that. I was just thinking how easy it would be to walk outside and wander down by those trees along the stream.”
“That’s why I keep the door hooked,” he said. “Grace and Robby can’t reach it. Christopher knows enough to stay away from the water.”
Of course he thought of the children’s safety. She thought only of the lack of restrictions. “I can walk out there anytime I like.”
“Yes, of course,” he replied. “Use wisdom, of course.”
He found the phonograph and removed it from the crate. “I can set it up right out here, if you prefer.”
She hadn’t moved from the doorway. She turned and looked at him. “I’d like that very much.”
He cleared a space on a table and positioned the phonograph. “I saw these at the exposition last summer and thought about getting one. Did you find this in Illinois?”
“I ordered it from a catalog.” Ella located the cardboard tubes that held her Edison wax cylinders, placed one of them on the mandrel and wound the machine.
A tinny waltz emanated from the sound machine.
Nathan watched his beautiful new wife as she listened to the music and let her gaze drift back to the green landscape. She stood at the screen door, her slender form in the pale yellow blouse silhouetted by the afternoon sun turning the grass and trees to vivid shades of green. She was an exquisite vision of perfection and femininity, her clear blue eyes alight with the pleasure and vitality of life. He thought of asking her to dance, but thought better of the idea.
Her exotic cinnamon and musk scent teased his senses. And when he looked at her mouth…he wanted to kiss her…kiss her until they were both puddles of hopeless need and blistering desire. But he knew better. The last thing he wanted was to see the sparkle fade from her eyes and the light of discovery and expectation leave her expression. Reality did that to a woman.
The music wound to a halt, the drone of an insect on a screen the only remaining sound. She turned and met his gaze. His heart surged up into his throat and threatened to stop for good.
Chapter Six
H e’d only known her for a week, and already she created havoc with his common sense. She reminded him of a butterfly newly emerged from its cocoon, testing her wings on the breeze.
She smiled and his breath hitched in his chest. He was a fool. “Let’s walk down by the stream,” he suggested, knowing the idea would appeal to her.
She agreed, as he’d known she would and he led her out of doors, where he took her hand and they strolled across the grass. Her fingers were slim and delicate. He turned over her palm to study the soft pink skin. She was unaccustomed to work.
She gazed up at him, those blue eyes innocent and trusting. She had placed all
“What a lovely place to live.” Her breath caught. She hadn’t meant to sound so emotional.
“When I selected this site, Sweetwater was still a row of tents and clapboard stores,” he said while moving crates. She turned to look at him. He had rolled back his sleeves over corded forearms with a dusting of dark hair. “I had my heart set on building a house here. Raising a family.” He paused to gaze out over the countryside. “Life takes unpredictable twists.”
He meant his wife’s death, obviously. Ella moved to the simple screen door that opened onto the yard. All she had to do was open that door and walk outside. No one would stop her.
She tested her freedom by flipping up the flimsy hook that held the door shut. She turned to look behind her and confirm that the door that led from the house to the porch was the one that locked for safety purposes.
“Something wrong?”
She shook her head.
“Even if someone broke that hook and eye and came into the porch, they couldn’t get in the house,” he assured her.
“I see that. I was just thinking how easy it would be to walk outside and wander down by those trees along the stream.”
“That’s why I keep the door hooked,” he said. “Grace and Robby can’t reach it. Christopher knows enough to stay away from the water.”
Of course he thought of the children’s safety. She thought only of the lack of restrictions. “I can walk out there anytime I like.”
“Yes, of course,” he replied. “Use wisdom, of course.”
He found the phonograph and removed it from the crate. “I can set it up right out here, if you prefer.”
She hadn’t moved from the doorway. She turned and looked at him. “I’d like that very much.”
He cleared a space on a table and positioned the phonograph. “I saw these at the exposition last summer and thought about getting one. Did you find this in Illinois?”
“I ordered it from a catalog.” Ella located the cardboard tubes that held her Edison wax cylinders, placed one of them on the mandrel and wound the machine.
A tinny waltz emanated from the sound machine.
Nathan watched his beautiful new wife as she listened to the music and let her gaze drift back to the green landscape. She stood at the screen door, her slender form in the pale yellow blouse silhouetted by the afternoon sun turning the grass and trees to vivid shades of green. She was an exquisite vision of perfection and femininity, her clear blue eyes alight with the pleasure and vitality of life. He thought of asking her to dance, but thought better of the idea.
Her exotic cinnamon and musk scent teased his senses. And when he looked at her mouth…he wanted to kiss her…kiss her until they were both puddles of hopeless need and blistering desire. But he knew better. The last thing he wanted was to see the sparkle fade from her eyes and the light of discovery and expectation leave her expression. Reality did that to a woman.
The music wound to a halt, the drone of an insect on a screen the only remaining sound. She turned and met his gaze. His heart surged up into his throat and threatened to stop for good.
Chapter Six
H e’d only known her for a week, and already she created havoc with his common sense. She reminded him of a butterfly newly emerged from its cocoon, testing her wings on the breeze.
She smiled and his breath hitched in his chest. He was a fool. “Let’s walk down by the stream,” he suggested, knowing the idea would appeal to her.
She agreed, as he’d known she would and he led her out of doors, where he took her hand and they strolled across the grass. Her fingers were slim and delicate. He turned over her palm to study the soft pink skin. She was unaccustomed to work.
She gazed up at him, those blue eyes innocent and trusting. She had placed all
Similar Books
