parents trust you and like you. Too much.”
“I’m grateful for their trust.”
Snow crunched under their feet as they made their way across the yard and into the warmth and shelter of the barn. Yellow light cast bobbing shadows over the snowdrifts from the lantern Hunter carried.
The animals stirred as the freezing air came inside with them. The cows raised their heads, watching them with idle interest.
Miranda pulled two milk stools from their pegs and set them in the middle of the floor. She sat and waited for Hunter to hang the lantern and take the other seat.
She didn’t wait for him to speak. “I believe we left off with me asking you what Warren’s reasons were.”
Hunter’s half-smile was so sad it twisted her heart.
She signed, continued, “I knew something was wrong. He’d been edgy and unsettled for a week before the wedding. Daddy assured me it was just pre-wedding jitters, that every groom felt them. But something was under his skin, and I now suspect it was Viv.” She’d never forget how that last week had made her feel. “Why didn’t he just tell me?”
“He should have. I don’t know why he didn’t.” He slid his stool closer until their knees almost touched. He took her hands into his and leaned close. “I need to know one thing. Do you still love him?”
The answer came easily. “No.”
“Has it been easy for you to spend an evening out with other men? Supper and the theater and whatever else city folk do?”
“I haven’t accepted invitations.”
Hunter paused. Disbelief registered, gave way to awe. “You haven’t seen anyone else since Warren?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean I still love him.”
Hunter sat motionless, searching her face, scrutinizing her quick response. She couldn’t mistake the doubt in his eyes.
“I don’t. Honest.”
“Then why did it hurt you so badly to see him at the church?”
“It didn’t hurt, not exactly.”
“I saw your face, Miranda. I’m not blind.”
She absorbed the warmth of his hands and let her gaze lower to look at his larger, calloused hands enveloping her own.
She knew the contours of these hands--the long fingers, neatly trimmed nails, and outlines of veins. Sweetly familiar. Intimately familiar.
Hunter’s hands. He squeezed hers, in support and tenderness.
Silence stretched, comfortable. He waited.
Hunter was so easy to love. The thought came unbidden, out of nowhere, and besides, it was absurd to think it meant anything more than the way she loved her parents and siblings, her brothers-in-law, the children, her neighbors…
Miranda pushed the thought aside, deeply aside, she couldn’t examine that now. “I was stunned to see them together, shocked by the sight of something I’d barely heard about. But that’s all there was to it.”
She met Hunter’s midnight gaze, held it. “I don’t love him anymore. Tonight, I realized it’s been years since I did. I can’t help feeling humiliated.” Her voice tightened. Tears threatened. Her eyes filled.
“Hey,” he whispered, easing an arm about her shoulders, pulling her close such that her head rested on his shoulder. He held her there for several long moments. Just waiting. And silently showing tender compassion.
No judgment.
No interruption.
So, this is love.
More than anything, she wanted to wrap her arms around his middle, pull him close, let his strength banish her fears and yesterday’s anxieties.
Foolish. So foolish. Pulling away from him, just a little, she shook her head and forced herself back to the wretched explanation of why humiliation kept her away from home for more than one thousand precious, lost days.
“ Everyone knows he rejected me and married immediately,” she whispered. “It’s embarrassing.”
He seemed to mull over what she’d said. “No one thinks ill of you. I haven’t heard a single comment about any of it in years.”
Miranda nodded, knowing he spoke the truth. So no one gossiped any longer. That was
“I’m grateful for their trust.”
Snow crunched under their feet as they made their way across the yard and into the warmth and shelter of the barn. Yellow light cast bobbing shadows over the snowdrifts from the lantern Hunter carried.
The animals stirred as the freezing air came inside with them. The cows raised their heads, watching them with idle interest.
Miranda pulled two milk stools from their pegs and set them in the middle of the floor. She sat and waited for Hunter to hang the lantern and take the other seat.
She didn’t wait for him to speak. “I believe we left off with me asking you what Warren’s reasons were.”
Hunter’s half-smile was so sad it twisted her heart.
She signed, continued, “I knew something was wrong. He’d been edgy and unsettled for a week before the wedding. Daddy assured me it was just pre-wedding jitters, that every groom felt them. But something was under his skin, and I now suspect it was Viv.” She’d never forget how that last week had made her feel. “Why didn’t he just tell me?”
“He should have. I don’t know why he didn’t.” He slid his stool closer until their knees almost touched. He took her hands into his and leaned close. “I need to know one thing. Do you still love him?”
The answer came easily. “No.”
“Has it been easy for you to spend an evening out with other men? Supper and the theater and whatever else city folk do?”
“I haven’t accepted invitations.”
Hunter paused. Disbelief registered, gave way to awe. “You haven’t seen anyone else since Warren?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean I still love him.”
Hunter sat motionless, searching her face, scrutinizing her quick response. She couldn’t mistake the doubt in his eyes.
“I don’t. Honest.”
“Then why did it hurt you so badly to see him at the church?”
“It didn’t hurt, not exactly.”
“I saw your face, Miranda. I’m not blind.”
She absorbed the warmth of his hands and let her gaze lower to look at his larger, calloused hands enveloping her own.
She knew the contours of these hands--the long fingers, neatly trimmed nails, and outlines of veins. Sweetly familiar. Intimately familiar.
Hunter’s hands. He squeezed hers, in support and tenderness.
Silence stretched, comfortable. He waited.
Hunter was so easy to love. The thought came unbidden, out of nowhere, and besides, it was absurd to think it meant anything more than the way she loved her parents and siblings, her brothers-in-law, the children, her neighbors…
Miranda pushed the thought aside, deeply aside, she couldn’t examine that now. “I was stunned to see them together, shocked by the sight of something I’d barely heard about. But that’s all there was to it.”
She met Hunter’s midnight gaze, held it. “I don’t love him anymore. Tonight, I realized it’s been years since I did. I can’t help feeling humiliated.” Her voice tightened. Tears threatened. Her eyes filled.
“Hey,” he whispered, easing an arm about her shoulders, pulling her close such that her head rested on his shoulder. He held her there for several long moments. Just waiting. And silently showing tender compassion.
No judgment.
No interruption.
So, this is love.
More than anything, she wanted to wrap her arms around his middle, pull him close, let his strength banish her fears and yesterday’s anxieties.
Foolish. So foolish. Pulling away from him, just a little, she shook her head and forced herself back to the wretched explanation of why humiliation kept her away from home for more than one thousand precious, lost days.
“ Everyone knows he rejected me and married immediately,” she whispered. “It’s embarrassing.”
He seemed to mull over what she’d said. “No one thinks ill of you. I haven’t heard a single comment about any of it in years.”
Miranda nodded, knowing he spoke the truth. So no one gossiped any longer. That was
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