Free Marriage by Mail (Grace Church Book 1) by Jan Holly

“After you.”
    He did not entirely relinquish her arm, and once they were both inside, he once again held her hand. Rose kept her face slightly averted, but he could see her smiling, and felt how she did not pull away. She didn’t try to put any distance between them. None at all.
    “What highfalutin establishment is this?” asked Charles, stopping at the threshold of the kitchen.
    “Oh, I made a curtain and placemats, with Mrs. West’s help,” said Rose breathlessly, glancing up at him.
    “You did?” He gazed at her admiringly.
    She shrugged one shoulder, looking down, smiling broadly.
    He held out the chair for her, rinsed his hands in the dishwater, and checked the larder. He brought out the food Elizabeth had made and set the table. Before they ate the cold fried chicken, greens, cornbread, and buttermilk, he stretched both of his hands across the table. Slowly, she put her hands in his. Charles’ heart soared at the touch of her little hands in his, at the fact that his wife was sitting across from him, about to share a meal. “Lord,” he prayed, his eyes closed and head bowed. “I don’t have a way with words like Pastor James does, but giving thanks takes on a whole new meaning when I’m so full of gratitude for your blessings. Thank you… for this food that we are about to eat, for friends, for this roof over our head, and most of all… Thank you… for Rose. For my wife, Rose. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
    Her hands tightened on his and he slowly lifted his head to look into her eyes.
    “Amen,” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears.
     

Chapter Eight
     
     
    The first thing that Rose saw when she woke the next morning were her new dresses, hanging on the outside of the wardrobe. She immediately got out of bed and pulled on her flannel dressing gown, opening her door a crack. She hoped that Charles had not left for work yet, but the silence pervading the house indicated that he had. Smoothing her hair, which she felt sticking up like a hedgehog’s spikes, she turned back to the dresses. Since the moment her eyes opened that morning, she had such a sweet feeling in the center of her chest. She kept thinking of the evening before. Charles’ expression when he asked if he could court her: she thought she’d remember it forever. The way his voice had sounded when he said the blessing, and the words that he had said: if one could put words and sounds in a locket, she would love to keep that blessing inside one. She laughed out loud, imagining opening an oval locket, and putting it up to her ear. Looking into the small mirror, she wet her hair a little, attempting to smooth it. She would have to keep those memories inside her mind and heart, and hope to add to them. Washing with the new, rose-scented soap, she could not wait to put on her new everyday dress. When she did, she crouched, trying to see her reflection in the mirror. It fit very well. Never had she had a dress so fine. A tad loose in the bodice, it would fit even better when she had gained back some weight. Reluctantly, she tied her apron over it, smiling at her folly over not wanting to cover up her new dress.
    She stepped outside the back door, breathing in deeply of the cool, freshly scented morning air. It astonished her how cool the mornings and evenings were, compared to how warm the days became. Too, she marveled at the dryness of the air, compared to Boston’s dampness. Hugging herself, she closed her eyes, lifting her face to the rising sun. The words to Psalm 71:14 came into her thoughts and she spoke them aloud, “ But I will hope continually, and will yet praise thee more and more .” Pray without ceasing, hope continually, she thought, feeling a sense of yearning. It took courage to hope.
    Shivering, she went back into the house and into the kitchen. She saw that Charles had left a covered plate at her place and she felt herself smiling. Sitting down to eat the breakfast he had left her, she thought about how they had