Free Promises Reveal by Sarah McCarty

everything, leaving her husband as empty a shell as this house.
    Looking around, Evie could see Amy’s personality in the brightly colored quilt on the back of the couch. In the stained-glass art that hung in the parlor, the bright reds and yellows of both reflecting the joy Amy had found in each day. It was so hard to accept that she was gone. So hard to believe that God had needed her more than Elijah.
    Evie sighed and hung her cape and bonnet on the coat hook. At least she’d been able to finish the portrait of Amy to give to Amy’s parents before they’d headed back East. She’d tried to give it to Elijah, but he’d taken one look and walked away. The Greers had been more open to the gift. The death of their last surviving child, along with their grandchild, had broken them. The painting had given them some comfort. Nothing, however, could comfort Elijah. He’d disappeared for the longest time, and then one day came back thinner, harder, and so cold-eyed she’d hardly recognized him. He’d moved into the livery and then the saloon. He didn’t smile, didn’t laugh, and he never spoke of his wife or the child they’d lost. It was as if, when he’d lost Amy, he’d lost his will to live.
    Evie wondered what it would be like to be loved like that. To love someone like that. Truth be told, it scared her to think so much of her happiness could depend on someone else. She ran her fingers over the freshly dusted and polished surface of the small pedestal table just to the right of the door. Loving someone that much made a person too vulnerable.
    Footsteps sounded on the porch. Brad was coming. She was supposed to be waiting for him in something flimsy. She rolled her eyes. Not that she owned any such thing. And not that she was interested in pleasing him by wearing what he wanted, but she was reasonably sure there was some etiquette about wedding nights that did not involve standing in the foyer playing with the furniture.
    As she stepped away from the table, her finger caught under the edge. It rocked on the smooth wood floor. Reaching out, she steadied it and sighed. She was fidgeting. Because she was nervous, she admitted to herself. Because of that darn dance.
    You’re looking for someone you can’t outthink or run over. Someone who can handle that wild side of yours.
    She’d been fine with the marriage when she’d been able to tuck the thought away as a necessary evil, like doing laundry, but that dance had changed everything. Changed the way she saw Brad. She hadn’t had time to figure out how, but she was pretty sure she didn’t like it. And she was pretty sure it was a threat to her independence. The door opened with the same creak as it had for her. She made a mental note to find some grease. Brad stopped when he saw her standing by the basket in her traveling clothes. He leaned his shoulder against the jamb and folded his arms across his chest. She had the impression of a big, hungry mountain lion stopping in to visit.
    “And here I was hoping you’d be waiting in something sheer and floaty.”
    The sexy timbre of his drawl made her wish she had been. She brushed her hands down her skirt. She didn’t know him like this. This was not the behavior of a staid preacher. “You didn’t give me time.”
    He smiled, and it only added to the image of a big, lazy cat getting ready to pounce. “I admit, the possibilities of what you might have put on inspired me to hurry.”
    This, she realized, was the man she’d always sensed lurking beneath the facade of a proper minister. The one who drew her like a fly to honey. She was finally meeting him. She had the strangest sense of exhilaration—and an incredible urge to run. That urge drove her into the kitchen. “You’ve got a very optimistic view of tonight.”
    “Are you telling me you didn’t pack something special for our wedding night?”
    Had he really expected her to? She shrugged and glanced over her shoulder. “I didn’t actually pack at