He slowed only as he reached the boardinghouse and dismounted in a flurry of snow and stiff limbs. And then he saw her.
At first, he didn’t understand what he was looking at. His mind, already crowded with regret, tried to turn the sight into something safer.
A woman stood on the threshold of the boarding house’s front door, wearing a blue coat. Her hat was very familiar…
Braxton took a step and froze as his chest locked. For a long moment, he couldn’t breathe. It couldn’t be her. The world didn’t allow a man to be that wrong and then be given that much mercy.
He blinked once, hard, as if the snow in his lashes had made him see things. She didn’t vanish.
Phoebe eyes swept the street to her left, searching, and then landed on him.
The expression on her face shifted with quiet recognition and she went stock still.
Braxton tried to speak. No sound came.
Phoebe’s lips parted before she gave him a small, soft smile. “Hello, Braxton.”
His throat tightened so sharply he could barely swallow.
She crossed the porch, trying to be careful when she descended the icy steps . “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He stared at her as if that were possible. “I thought…” His voice rasped. He stopped, tried again. “I thought you were in Chicago.”
“I was.” Her tone held something wry beneath the gentleness. “Four days ago.”
Braxton’s mind couldn’t keep up. “You… you left almost when I did…”
Phoebe went still and gave him a warm smile. “Augusta, Margaret and Josie decided I needed a husband that was not Mr. Clark. Someone steady and good. There was only one man they could think of.”
Braxton’s stomach dropped. He forced himself to breathe through it.
Phoebe tipped her head. “They said they found the perfect man for me. And before I knew it, I was packed and on a train.”
Braxton’s hands curled into fists at his sides. His thoughts tangled in a dozen directions…why would they send her? Why would she come? What did they tell her?
He managed only one question, the one that mattered most. “Do you know who you’re here for?”
Her eyes didn’t waver. “Yes.”
Braxton’s heart slammed once, hard. “And you still got off the train...”
Phoebe’s smile softened. “Braxton, I came because I was given a choice.” She glanced at the street and back. “For the first time in a long time, I was given a choice that wasn’t made out of fear.”
Braxton’s breath caught. “I…”
Phoebe lifted a hand. “Let me finish.”
He nodded, because he would’ve done anything she asked in that moment.
Phoebe’s gaze stayed on his face. “You didn’t claim me as a bride.” Frankly, every time the subject came up, you looked like a man who thought he was doing me a favor by not asking me to be your bride.”
Braxton’s voice came out rough. “I was wrong.”
Phoebe studied him for a long moment as snow drifted between them. “Yes,” she said. “You were.”
Braxton let out a shaky breath and stared at her, helpless. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“I know,” she said, so simply it stole his breath all over again.
