“Your name is right there.” He pointed to a line where someone had typed her full name. Kizzie Louisa McAdams.
She lifted her gaze to his, the reality moving into clarity with the speed of cold molasses. “You've deeded the house to me?”
His grin flashed wide. “And five acres of land. It's yours to do with as you need.”
How …? She shook her head to bring the thoughts together.
“I … I don't know what to say.” She swallowed, looking from him back to the paper. “Apart from that little baby in there, I've not had anything of my own in all my life.”
“Daisy and the buggy are included. And anything else in the barn.” His smile beamed his pleasure, and Kizzie's heart softened all over again, grasping for the connection to him she desperately wanted.
She placed a kiss to his lips, which Charles quickly took to a more intimate level. Despite the slightest warning rising in her mind, she embraced his affection, his care.
Besides Charlie, he was all she had.
And she needed to embrace what she had. Display her gratitude. Shower him with her love.
Because then maybe her love would prove enough to secure their little family's future.
Kizzie woke in Charles’ arms, the cool of the morning just outside the blankets. His chest swelled with his breaths in rhythmic movements against her side as he continued sleeping.
How many times had she awakened to him at her side?
Dozens.
But this morning, a strange pang ached through her at the realization of what she'd done … again. She grasped for a description. A picture. The only image fluttering through her mind came in the form of a shadow. A cold shadow. And one just outside the touch of a sunbeam.
Warmth swelled beneath her eyelids. Why?
She owned this house. She was in the arms of the man she loved. She had a beautiful baby.
So why did she feel some deep grief she couldn't explain?
She opened her eyes, and her attention moved across the room. In the dim light of sunrise, Charlie lay bundled and asleep. Her gaze moved to the dresser nearby.
Her mother's Bible still lay there, the deed tucked within its well-worn folds. Kizzie wasn't sure why she'd placed the document there, but it felt right. Safe.
The grief stabbed afresh.
Something was wrong … with this relationship, her situation, and … her heart.
Like the woman at the well, did God want more for her? Better for her? Even if she'd made so many wrong choices—she felt another of Charles’ breaths at her side—over and over again? Was she living off scraps of this world when God had a sweeter meal for her starving soul?
Charles stirred awake and grinned at her as he rolled from the bed. He rubbed one of his shoulders. “Charlie's certainly growing. After holding him a while last night, I'm a little sore.” His attention fell on her as she reached for her robe. “I can't imagine how sore you must be.”
She looked away from his bare chest, a wave of shame rushing through her in a way she hadn't felt since their first few meetings together. What was wrong with her? “He is getting bigger. That's a fact.”
Charles walked from the room, likely to tend the fire, so Kizzie quickly pulled on a simple day dress and socks then moved to the dresser. The deed poked from the top of the Bible. Kizzie drew it from its spot and unfolded it, placing it on the bed to look over as she braided her hair.
Charles told her that he'd had the paperwork drawn up soon after she'd seen his mother. Proof all the more of his affection for her and Charlie. She skimmed over the wording, noting a few extra things she hadn't had the sense to comprehend yesterday.
House furniture was included with a specific mention of the cookstove.
The cow was also listed as hers. And with the inclusion of land to the river, Charles secured her access to water and alternate transportation should she ever need it.
He'd thought of everything.
The gift proved the depth of his care all the more.
