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dumbfounded. She shut her mouth when she realized it was open, then shook her head, disbelieving. “They—they actually offered it to you?”
    His jaw slid back and forth just slightly. “Yes,” he said, irritation tinting his tone. “They actually offered it to me.”
    “And of course you told them no.”
    “No, I didn’t. I told them I’d talk to you, and we’d pray about it and get back to them by mid-January.”
    A terse laugh escaped her throat. “But we’re not going. You promised.”
    “I didn’t promise we weren’t going. I promised we wouldn’t go if you didn’t want to.”
    “And I don’t, so case closed.”
    “No—we haven’t prayed about it. You haven’t prayed about it.”
    Her eyes narrowed as the arrow hit her heart. “I’m getting really tired of people making assumptions about my spiritual life.”
    “Well, I’m sorry. Maybe if you didn’t act so cocky people wouldn’t make assumptions.”
    “Cocky?!”
    She turned and headed for the apartment at double speed, knowing she couldn’t hold her tongue much longer in the face of such an insult. She heard Marcus’s steps behind her but did nothing to acknowledge him, making a beeline instead for the staircase that led to their floor as her mind turned over and over the words Marcus had spoken. “I got the job.”
    She nearly slammed the door behind her, but Marcus caught it and closed it quietly. His even-keeled emotions drove her nuts. She needed a yelling match, not some calm, logical voice of reason. She pulled off her jacket and threw it on the back of the couch. “You promised, Marcus. Don’t split hairs. If my mind was going to be changed, God would have done it by now, don’t you think?”
    “I don’t know what to think,” he said. “Which is why I think we should pray about it together.”
    She let out a snort. “I love that you think your job is worth praying over, but when I told you I was auditioning you acted like it was no big deal.”
    “I prayed about that.”
    That surprised her. “You did?”
    “Of course.”
    She crossed her arms. “Prayed I wouldn’t get it, I’ll bet.”
    His face fell, and she winced inside at the look in his eyes. “How could you say that? Of course I didn’t pray that. I prayed God would guide your career, just like I’ve been praying since the day we started dating. I prayed you’d get it if that was His will, and that He’d comfort you if you didn’t. You know I always try to support you and encourage you. How could you ever think I’d be so mean as to pray against you like that?”
    Amelia had let her anger carry her too far, and she knew it. Guilt began to gnaw at her stomach. What had she prayed for Marcus? “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I—I didn’t know you did all that.”
    “Of course I did,” Marcus said, sounding weary. “I love you.”
    Wounded by the realization that she had never even thought to pray like that, as well as by the fear that Jill might have been on to something, Amelia struggled with what to say next. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore. But she wasn’t about to give in on Nebraska, either. She sank to the couch beside Marcus and held out her hands. “All right then,” she said, unable to soften the challenge in her voice and unwilling to meet his eyes, “let’s pray about it.”
    He paused a moment, then grasped her hands tightly and began to pray aloud. Amelia listened for a moment, then tuned out his voice, knowing his words didn’t matter. Nothing was going to make her move.

    Christmas Day dawned with a chill in the air that matched the mood in the Sheffield apartment. The last three days had been navigated carefully by both parties, with no mention of the decision before them outside of the twice daily prayers they said together—or rather, that Marcus said in Amelia’s presence. Amelia was counting down the days until January 18, when the theater group began rehearsals for their first show, Pippin. Despite it not