“Open this one first.” He patted the chair next to him and, once she'd joined him, placed a rather large, unusually shaped package into her lap. As soon as her fingers met the paper, she recognized the curves and shape of a bonnet. She raised her eyes to him, grinning at the way his smile spread to light his eyes, watching her.
The Charles she knew, she reminded herself. The one who cared about her.
The one who wanted her.
She hesitated. But to marry her? Truly? Ever?
“You're not usually this slow to unwrap my gifts.” His brows wiggled and returned her to a more lighthearted frame of mind.
She pulled off the ribbon and peeled back the paper to reveal an exquisite and elegant blue-trimmed hat with a wide brim and a few feathers. A simple silver ornament of some sort poised in the center top. “It's called a promenade hat, I'm told.” He nodded toward it. “And it is the same color as your eyes.”
His comment captured her attention before she slipped her fingers over the soft cloth. He noticed her eyes? She didn't recall him voicing much appreciation for them before. Other parts of her, especially in more intimate situations, but not her eyes. “It's beautiful.”
“Let's see it.”
She laughed. “I'm not wearing a dress fit enough for something this pretty.”
“Your dress is fine.” He slipped close, wrapping his arm around her waist. “And everything looks pretty on you, Kizzie.”
His kiss shouldn't have taken her by surprise, but it did. The fact that she'd placed her whole future on him left a big unknown on the horizon because the bond between them she used to rely on had shifted into uncertain territory after yesterday. And, for the first time since he'd swept her into a closet and kissed her, she wondered what her future looked like without him.
He drew back, plucked the hat from her hands, and carefully fitted it to her head, his grin broadening to light his eyes.
“It's a perfect shade.” He held her gaze, his smile fading. “You look every bit the lady.”
A lady. She searched his face. But looking like a lady didn't make her one, did it? Not enough to change his mother's mind.
“Thank you, Charles.” She ran a hand over the soft fabric, diverting her attention away from his face. “This is so nice of you.”
“Nice?” He laughed, hands on her shoulders, those warm eyes staring back at her. “Kizzie, I know this isn't what you'd hoped, but it doesn't change the truth that I care about you and Charlie.”
Care about.
Not love.
“I want to do nice things for both of you.”
Her heart hammered in her chest, trying to cling to the thread of hope in his words.
But how long could she live on words?
“And I want you to know I heard your concerns yesterday.” He handed her a large envelope tied with a ribbon. “You were right. If something was to happen to me …”
She stared at him, almost regretting her previous thoughts. Of course he cared.
“Are you planning on something happening to you?”
“No.” His grin tipped. “Stop stalling and open it.”
Kizzie pulled her gaze from his and tugged the ribbon loose. She opened the envelope then slid a folded, booklet-like paper from its casing. Printed across the front in bold lettering was the word DEED.
Deed? She blinked. She knew what deeds were. They proved ownership. But what sort of—
She unfolded the paper and skimmed the information, trying to make sense of the wording, the flourish of signatures, and some official stamp.
The house, outbuildings, and five acres—
A surveyor's map showed an area with more descriptive words like “to the Ellison River” and “along Easton Road.” Was this a deed to the house?
