Free Daughters of the Heart by Caryl Mcadoo Page B

will, not mine.” A peace settled over his heart as he worked on the stallion. Things would turn out fine. He was wrong, had to be.
    Like May said, the Lord watches over His, even when mistakes are made. She was right. Then could it be He sent Eversole?
    The man not responding to CeCe’s kiss brought to mind Lisbeth Akins ambushing him when she was fourteen. Except, thankfully, he never had any feelings for the girl, while Elijah appeared to be coming up with new equipment to forge.
    A planter would buy him another month. Henry smiled. The young man could probably stretch it into six weeks or more.
    “Mister Henry, sir?”
    He turned around. His son-in-law’s junior partner stood just inside the door. Hat in hand. “Morning, Son. Should I shake your hand or blow you head off?”
     

Chapter Nine

     
    Elijah stepped closer. At least Cecelia’s father wasn’t holding a gun on him. The scent of fresh-cut hay filling the barn couldn’t overpower the taste of fear though. He swallowed and extended his hand.
    “I’d understand if you did, sir, but then you wouldn’t.…”
    The older man shook his head. “Forget the engine and planter. My daughter is not for sale.”
    “No, oh, that’s not what I was saying.” He dropped his hat and held his hands up. “Not at all. I was going to say you’d lose a son-in-law.”
    The older man eyed him hard, but Elijah didn’t look away. He finally went back to brushing The Black, although it seemed with a bit too much gusto. “So, tell me your version of night before last.”
    He scooped up his hat and eased closer, filled his lungs, then tried again to swallow away the acidic dryness.
    “I was working on the drawing in my room and heard something in the attic. At first I thought squirrels. Then, oh, Lord, was I surprised when Cecelia opened the water closet door.”
    “You never said a word to her about coming to your room?”
    “No, sir. I’d never…but…in the end, I’m glad that she did, sir.”
    “How so?”
    “After Caleb Wheeler died, I proposed to Mary Rachel.”
    The older man’s face turned to flint, but he said nothing.
    “She refused me, of course. Too soon, I guess. But it broke my heart when she took up with Clinton.”
    “Who?”
    “Edward Clinton, her second baby’s father, sir. Turned out he was married.”
    “So what’s that got to do with Cecelia coming to your room?”
    “I’m going to admit straight up. I thought building you a steam engine would be a good excuse to meet Mary’s sisters. See if any of them were cut from the same cloth, as pretty and smart, and God-fearing.” For a heartbeat, he tried to picture his first love in his mind’s eye, but Cecelia’s image alone filled his soul.
    “Son, you keep stopping. Get to it.”
    “Not until the other night—when she showed up—did I know for sure. I’m in love with Cecelia, sir. Those feelings I had for Mary don’t even compare to those in my heart right now toward her sister.”
    “She’s too young.”
    “Well, I respectfully disagree, sir, but certainly understand your absolute right to say so. I’ll wait though. However long it takes. I’m asking for your blessing to court Cecelia, sir, and when—only when—we earn your blessing, to make her my wife.”
     

     
    Of their own, the muscles in Henry’s shoulders relaxed. His fists unclenched. “That’s good to hear. Why didn’t you kiss my daughter back when she visited?”
    “Oh, I wanted to. So much it hurt. But the Lord strengthened me, just as He has every time I hear the siren’s song.”
    Henry resisted smiling. Praise God for a kindred spirit. “How long did she stay in your room?”
    “Seemed like only seconds, could have been two or three minutes. No more.”
    “You’re sure.”
    “Couldn’t have been longer. She only told me she was worth waiting for and…well…there was the kiss, but it was short and sweet. That’s all. I wanted her to stay for certain. I wanted to smother her in kisses. But the