Free Bending Toward the Sun by Mona Hodgson Page A

she left the freight house and rounded the corner.
    Quaid had done the right thing giving credence to PaPa’s concerns. She needed to follow his example—to honor her father.
    Opening her door, she breathed a prayer for God’s grace and the right words. Her father sat in his favorite chair in the sitting room, his nose in a newspaper.
    “PaPa.”
    He lowered the paper and peered over his wire-rimmed spectacles. “I thought you had retired for the night.”
    “I thought so too. I’ve been reading and writing in my journal.” Light from the lantern on the wall above him showed the bald spot at the back of his head. Until recently, he’d seemed ageless. “I went to see Quaid this afternoon.”
    “I suspected as much.” He laid the newspaper on his lap.
    “I know you don’t want me to see Quaid. I know you think you need to protect me from him.” She clasped her hands. “You should also know that despite his affections for me, Quaid intends to honor your request that he stay away from me.”
    He hadn’t done as well with not encouraging her affections, but it wasn’t for lack of effort.
    PaPa didn’t respond, so she kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, PaPa.” The weight from her shoulders lifted, Emilie walked away. She pressed her hand to her lips and returned to her bedchamber, prepared for sweet dreams.

Twelve
    W ednesday morning, Quaid loaded the last of the railing into the wagon and climbed onto the seat. He’d worked in his woodshop every spare minute since Saturday. Not seeing Emilie hadn’t been easy, but knowing she understood the separation made the avoidance more bearable.
    “Let’s go, boys.” A little flick of the reins, and the horses headed to Main Street. Heinrich’s store was out of the way, but they’d received a small shipment. Since this was a school day for Emilie, Quaid had agreed to make the delivery.
    He reined the horses to a stop at the storeroom door and climbed from the wagon. He’d only knocked twice when the door swung open.
    “McFarland?”
    Quaid shook Mr. Heinrich’s hand.
    He studied the full wagon. “My daughter ordered all of that?”
    Quaid chuckled. “No. Just a barrel of nails and a cask of medicinal in your delivery.”
    Mr. Heinrich walked to the wagon. “And this woodwork?”
    “That’s the new railing I made for Owen and Oliver’s boat. I’m on my way to install it.”
    “I remember them telling me about that over a game of checkers.” Mr. Heinrich ran his hand across the lacquered beam. “S’pose I knew you’d done woodworking, but didn’t realize you were so talented.”
    Not Emilie’s exact wording, but the same sentiment.
    “Thank you.” Quaid leaned against the tailgate. “With all due respect, sir, I think there’s a lot about me that would be a pleasant surprise.”
    Mr. Heinrich smiled. “I’m sure you’re right. Emilie told me you practically ran from her on Saturday. Thank you for honoring my wishes.”
    Quaid nodded. “Later, she came to see me at my father’s office.”
    “She told me that, also, and what you told her about doing the right thing by me.”
    “One of the hardest things I’ve ever been asked to do. I care deeply for your daughter.”
    Mr. Heinrich turned toward the wagon. “You get the barrel. I’ll get the cask.”
    Quaid wasn’t sure what had just happened here, but he felt good about it. Trusting God had brought him peace.

    Despite the chill in the air, Emilie decided on a more leisurely stroll home from Lindenwood. PaPa hired Maren to help at the store two months ago, yet Emilie had continued to push herself. Today she’d take time to enjoy the sunshine before autumn fully gave itself to winter. Along the creek and up the hill behind it, evergreen pines mingled with the linden and sycamore trees that stood bare waiting for their spring revival. Maren and Rutherford would wed soon, while she and Quaid were forbidden to see each other.
    She sighed, longing for spring’s resuscitation.
    Pinching