Free Sweet Forever by Ramona K. Cecil Page A

Rosaleen understood. She must make no mention of the Underground Railroad.
    Opal turned her attention to cutting thick slices of bacon that she then laid in the sizzling-hot cast-iron frying pan. “Reverend Hale left before dawn to work on that church building again. That man’s gonna keel over if he keeps workin’ hours on end without eatin’. Rosaleen, I’d like for you to take him this bacon with some of Patsey’s good bread and a little jug of milk.”
    Rosaleen jerked her head up from the bread dough she’d begun kneading at the kitchen table. Her mind raced with her heart. Feeling sure he’d renewed his relationship with Sophie Schuler, Rosaleen had vowed to spend as little time in Jacob’s presence as possible. “But shouldn’t I help Patsey—”
    “Patsey has things well in hand, and any assistance she might need, I can give her.” Opal packed the bacon, bread, and jug of milk into a linen-lined basket.
    A few minutes later, Rosaleen headed out the back door toward Main-Cross Street. She slowed her steps when she reached Broadway. The morning sun shining through the trees dappled the street with gold. Its warmth on her shoulders did nothing to brighten her heart. Perhaps she could simply hand him the basket and leave.
    I’ll tell him I have work to do at the boardinghouse, I’ll say —
    Her musings broke off as she neared the building site. The mule team hitched to a wagon of lumber stood tied and unattended, but she heard no ringing of a hammer or whoosh of a saw. Fear grabbed at her heart. Had he been hurt? Was he lying somewhere injured or. . . “Jacob! Jacob, where are you?”
    “Rosaleen?”
    A relieved sigh puffed from Rosaleen’s lips when Jacob’s blond head popped up from the far side of the building.
    “Mmm, breakfast.” Smiling, he hurried to her side and took the basket from her hand. He lifted the cloth, releasing the delicious smells of fresh-baked bread and fried bacon. Rosaleen’s heart bucked when he set the basket on the ground and took her hand in his.
    “I was hoping you’d come this morning.” He gave her a mischievous grin. “I can always depend on Mrs. Buchanan’s insistence that I eat breakfast.”
    Happiness bubbled up inside Rosaleen at knowing he’d expected her, had been waiting for her.
    “Come, I want to show you something.”
    They rounded the church, now framed by skeletal walls of vertical two-by-fours. “There will be stone steps later,” he said, helping her up the makeshift wooden steps into what would be the sanctuary.
    She grasped his hand and her heart ached at his nearness. If only—if only. . .
    Never in her life had she wanted to feel a man’s arms around her more than at this moment.
    “Here.” Oblivious to her thoughts, he towed her to a sunny spot near the front of the church. Stepping behind her, he gently grasped her shoulders and turned her toward an opening in the wall at the east side of the sanctuary. “This is the spot where we’ll put the piano—here by the window, where the morning sun will shine through.”
    The angle presented a nearly uncluttered view of the Ohio River, shimmering in the morning sunlight.
    “This is what I want you to see each Sunday morning.” His soft breath caressed her face as he bent his head over her shoulder.
    Though she found the scene beautiful, it was the nearness of his face that took her breath away.
    How easy it would be to lean my head against his neck, to turn my face ever so slightly. . . No! I mustn’t do this, I mustn’t!
    Pulling away from his grasp, she turned and stepped backward. When her left foot found only air, she gasped, her right foot teetering on the edge of the floor.
    Fear constricted her chest when she glanced down at a pile of bricks below. Suddenly, she felt Jacob’s arms around her, pulling her back into the building and hard against him.
    Wrapped in his strong arms, she surrendered to temptation, pressing her head against his chest. Her heart hammering, she clung to