Free Broken Vows by Shirl Henke

make a splendid catch, and I do so want you to be happy, Celia. Please don't be angry with me,” she pleaded.
           Celia stood rooted to the ground, a small O forming on her lips, making her face seem even rounder than usual. Then, sensing her friend's obvious distress, she hugged Rebekah. “Don't take on so. I know you never set your cap for Amos—even though why you'd prefer that penniless stable hand to him is beyond me,” she added in exasperation.
           Ignoring Celia's denigration of Rory, Rebekah replied, “Maybe there is something we can do to help us both get the men we want. Next Sunday is the box lunch social. I'm certain Mr. Wells will expect to bid on my lunch basket. Now, here's what we could do, if you want to....”
     
    * * * *
     
           Rory sat gazing out at the river glittering beneath the brilliant azure sky. He cast the bobber into the water and watched the cork dance on the lazy, rippling current. Would she come? Did he really want her to come? There would be all sorts of complications if they became involved. Until the reckless incident in her garden, he had never realized how volatile the feelings between a man and a woman could be.
           Working his way across the country. he had sampled more than his share of females—eager young slatterns who wanted him to take them away from the grimness of poverty, jaded older women with shady pasts who merely wanted to use his strong body to relieve their boredom. But never had he known a girl like Rebekah—a lady raised in a sheltered provincial environment, a complete innocent.
           He smiled to himself, recalling the fire that burned deeply within her and how startled she had been that he could evoke such wanton responses from her. She was a quick learner, and he was an excellent teacher. But where would this lead them? Her family would scarcely consider him ideal husband material; and involvement with a girl like Rebekah meant marriage, no two ways about that. Well, he had quit boxing and gotten himself a steady job. The money was meager, but it was honest work with an opportunity for advancement. If Rebekah was willing to take a chance on him, they would find some way to appease her family.
           The object of his musings approached the river and stood hidden in the dense stand of willows, watching Rory and working up her courage to approach him. He reclined against a willow log, one long leg bent at the knee and his forearm lying casually across it. A cane pole was propped up on the bank between two rocks. He stared at the river, deep in thought.
           Taking a steadying breath, she stepped from her hiding place and approached him. “You seem a million miles away. The fish could carry off your pole, hook, line and sinker and you'd never know it.”
           He rolled up in one lithe motion and let his eyes sweep appreciatively over her, enjoying the blush that stained her cheeks. The lilac-colored dress accented every sweet, subtle curve yet was curiously demure. “The fish don't matter. I was thinking of you. I like what you did with your hair,” he said, reaching up to touch the soft cluster of curls piled on top of her head. “I was afraid you weren't coming.”
           When he took her hand, it seemed the most natural thing on earth to stroll with him over to the log and sit down on it. “I had a hard time getting away from my family. Leah invited us all over to her house for dinner after church, and I had to invent an excuse not to go.”
           “I’m glad you found one,” he said, smiling at her.
           She chewed her lip for a moment. “I'm afraid I told a lie—or at least an exaggeration. I said the heat was bothering me so much I couldn't bear the long ride to Leah and Henry's place. I pleaded a headache and said I was going upstairs to rest.”
           “Henry Snead's the ramrod at the Flying W. That is a long, dusty ride. You weren't really