There was only one other white woman in the service. An aged lady, who stood near the front, face raised to the ceiling and a smile on her face as everyone sang. And no one seemed to mind one bit.
“God loves all His children,” Nella had said, a sentiment Kizzie's mama shared too.
But was Kizzie one of His children? A deep ache seeped through her. Those people in the church knew something, had something, she didn't. Like her mama.
A man waited on the front porch of her house, a horse and gig paused just out front. She knew that gig.
Charles.
He met her at the fence, his hair in disarray, his open-collared white shirt rumpled beneath his coat. With a crooked grin, he scanned her from head to boot, the warmth in his gaze igniting a responsive awareness throughout her body.
“Off on a walk this chilly morning?”
It took Kizzie a moment to collect her thoughts at his nearness and teasing, especially after what had passed yesterday morning. “I was coming back from church.”
“From church?” His gaze lifted to the way she'd come. “Which church? The churches I know about are back toward town.”
She slid past him and unlocked the door then stepped inside with him following. “I went with Joshua and Nella.”
He paused in his turn to close the door. “You went with the Chappells? Totheirchurch?” He tugged off his hat and hung it on a hook by the door. “But you can't go there.”
Kizzie placed Charlie in Charles’ unexpecting arms and turned toward the fire. “I'd like to go somewhere instead of just be in this house alone all the time.”
“But what will folks think of you going to that church?”
“That I must need it, is all I can reckon.” She shifted a log into the dying flames to reignite.
Quiet greeted her response until she stood from her crouched position and turned to face him.
“Kizzie, I don't know if it's the best idea for you to attend the Chappells’ church. Some folks may not take too kindly of it with …” He shrugged and shifted Charlie in his arms. “With some of their other less friendly thoughts about you.”
She stared hard at him, wondering if he considered his own participation in her current position. “Would you let me come with you to yours, then?”
He looked away, answer enough.
Law, they were in such a mess.
“They've been real good to me, Charles.”
He nodded and swallowed loud enough for her to hear.
“And if you're planning on staying for a little while, I got some leftover biscuits, ham, and grape jam we can share. It'll just take a bit to warm them up over the cookstove.”
“That sounds good.” His gaze flew to hers, the tension in his face softening. “And I brought a few jars of strawberry jam too, since I know how fond you are of strawberries.”
She offered him a smile, pushing back a loose strand of hair. “That sounds like a regular feast then, don't it?”
His gaze searched hers, an almost pleading look sending her pulse into an upswing. What wasn't he saying? He gave a quick nod and then turned toward the door. “I'll go put the horse in the barn and be on back.”
Her breath caught at the unvoiced decision. “You're measurin’ to stay awhile?”
He paused at the door and looked over his shoulder. “I'd like to spend time with you and Charlie.”
And Charlie. The statement hit directly into her new-mama heart.
“And if anybody decides to come back for a visit tonight, I'll be here.”
She held his gaze, trying to sort out why a sense of dread followed his somber behavior, while also struggling with the pull toward him. For the night. When she'd sin all over again like she'd done dozens of times before. “That'd be nice.”
