Free Rumors and Promises by Kathleen Rouser

“I-I’m not sure what happened.” That, at least, was the truth. The thought of being alone with a man in any building put Sophie out of sorts … but not usually quite that much. “Perhaps I just need some water. Where’s Maggie? I assumed she would be here.”
    “She should be here shortly. You are a little early.” Her eyes focused to take in the reverend kneeling next to her. His furrowed brow revealed his obvious concern.
    Sophie blinked and tried to sit up. “I’ll be fine, really.”
    “You gave me quite a scare. Let me help you.” Reverend McCormick held one hand and supported her back with his other. “Stay right there, and I’ll get you a glass of water.”
    “Thank you.” She gazed around the sanctuary. Beams slanting high above the eggshell-colored room supported the cathedral ceiling. Even the grayish light of winter highlighted the spectrum of color that came through the stained glass windows. Though far different from the room she’d been catapulted into by her mind’s eye, she still found its appearance lofty. The wind howled outside. “Are we alone?”

    “No.” Ian wondered at Sophie’s fainting spell. His heart had sped up as she fell into his arms and continued a drumbeat as he went to get her water. She’d acted comfortable at his house a week ago, but her eyes had widened and an almost imperceptible shake coursed through her as though she had seen a ghost before she’d blacked out. Her fingers had clung to the front of her shawl as though they were frozen there. A cold sweat of fear had swept over Ian.
    “Uncle Ian!” Philip bounded down the center aisle behind him when Ian returned. “I’ve found the broom. Where would you like me to sweep first?”
    He turned to the energetic boy for a moment. “Be a gentleman. Miss Biddle isn’t feeling well.”
    “Yes, sir. Is she going to be all right?” Philip stood close behind him, waiting for further direction.
    Sophie took in a breath and let it out. All at once, she seemed more relaxed. Could she be so nervous about performing? She’d played like a professional the other night. Why would the presence of a child ease her fears? Perhaps she was only cold from being outside.
    Her long slender fingers curved around the glass he handed her and brushed his hand. How chilly! “Would you like to warm up by the stove before you practice? Maggie will be bringing a pot of tea.”
    “That’s very thoughtful of you both. Will Maggie stay for awhile?”
    Warmth thawed into the once terrified look in her amber eyes. He somehow felt relief as he took in her gaze. The tenderness he discerned there both captivated and alarmed him. He cleared his throat and glanced away.
    “I’m sure she would enjoy hearing you play again so soon.” Ian rubbed his idle hands together to generate heat as the cold sweat abated.
    He turned to his young nephew. “Philip, start at the front and work your way to the back. There’s usually more dirt in the vestibule. And then you can sweep it right out the door.”
    “Yes, sir.” The boy nodded.
    “But sweep as quietly as possible when Miss Biddle plays.”
    Philip nodded again and chuckled. “I’ll try.”
    Ian held Sophie’s elbow and helped her up before leading her toward the front of the church. They sat near the stove in the corner, and Sophie held out her reddened hands. Ian had felt their roughness just a few minutes before. How hard she must work helping Esther and washing laundry. It seemed unfair that those hands that made beautiful music had to take such abuse from lye soap.
    She gave him that crooked smile, but an uneasy quiet hung between them. Only the swish of Philip’s broom across the floor interrupted the silence.
    Funny, as they walked up the aisle together, Ian realized that he’d never done this with a woman at his side before. Maggie certainly didn’t count. He’d stood apart as he’d watched many a bride come forward and join her groom’s side for Ian to performtheir marriage