“Pa, can all of us go outside and build a snow family after dinner?” Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “The fire melted our old one.”
“Hmmmm. That depends how long it takes to make dinner. I have to work tonight, and it looks to me like someone’s tired.” Thomas chucked Claire under the chin.
Work? As Isaac’s deputy again? A chill traveled up her spine. Hopefully he and Isaac would do nothing more than sit in the sheriff’s office.
“Can you make dinner fast, Ma?” Claire stifled a yawn against her father’s neck. “I want to play before bed.”
“Dinner’s already made.” Jessalyn pulled a tray of biscuits from the oven. “That is, unless you want something different than soup and biscuits.”
Thomas set Claire down and came up behind her in the small kitchen, looking over her shoulder into the pot of soup. “Jess…”
A hand landed on her waist, and she jolted, her muscles tensing for an instant before relaxing against the familiar feel of her husband’s hand. He settled it in the same spot he’d always placed it after they were married and when she was pregnant with Olivia. He’d come up behind her to ask what was for dinner, if she wanted help doing dishes, if her back was bothering her, or any other number of things.
She pressed her eyes shut against the decade-old memories.
“When I left you here earlier, I didn’t intend for you to play maid and work all afternoon.” His voice was low and deep.
“I didn’t exactly have sewing to do.” The words tasted bitter, even if they were true. What was she to do without her shop?
His hand tightened at her side, holding her in place.Today I woke up next to my wife for the first time in five years. I wish your seamstress shop never would have burned, but I can’t go back and change that. I can, however, change today. How I act toward you, how I smile at you, how I show my love for you.He may as well be whispering his words from this morning in her ear given how they echoed through her mind.
This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? She’d watched Tressa meet and fall in love with Mac, Victoria with Elijah, Lindy with Dr. Harrington. Not all marriages ended up broken and full ofheartache. And here she was, getting a second chance she’d not dared dream of.
“You could have taken a nap, angel.” That he did whisper in her ear, bringing back another rush of memories that involved his breath brushing her cheek, her neck, her ear.
Should she give Thomas another chance? Her hand tightened around the soup spoon. He’d broken her heart when he left, leaving her to cry herself to sleep in an empty bed every night for months. She’d been too sick to eat at first, too sick to go to church, too sick to do anything. And she’d not known where their next meal was coming from or whether they’d have money for rent. But somehow she’d gotten out of bed day after day, even if the only thing pushing her forward was her daughters. Then she’d started mending, and her days slowly turned from a hopeless trial into a steady, dependable way to provide for her family. She had a system and she had security. It had all been enough—until Thomas returned.
If she allowed herself to love him now, would he crush her again?
Or would they be stronger together than they were apart? Would they love each other and make sacrifices for each other and live a full, happy life, like Mac and Tressa?
She stared down into the pot and stirred the soup, but that didn’t stop a single tear from rolling down her face and splattering onto her apron.
“Olivia, it’s my turn.” Claire’s voice floated through the kitchen.
“I want one more time,” Olivia answered.
“You promised I could have it next.”
Jessalyn looked over her shoulder. Her two eldest girls argued, yes, but there was a comfortable sort of ease to it, just like there was a comfortable ease to Thomas standing behind her, his hand on her waist while she tended dinner. Had Thomasnever left, would things have been like this? Would she have spent afternoons and evenings with their daughters rather than digging through endless piles of mending? Would she have taken comfort in knowing she didn’t need to provide for the entire family on her own, but had a reliable husband who saw to that?
Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it.
She had to give God a chance to rebuild her house with Thomas, even if it meant Thomas broke her heart all over again.
“I accept,” she whispered into the pot.
“What was that?” Thomas leaned closer, his breath fanning against her neck this time.
“I said I accept. The truce, that is.”
“You accept? Truly?” He spun her around to face him, and the smile that spread across his face was so large she felt her own lips tilt up in response.
“Truly.” She tried to press her lips into a firm, straight line, but couldn’t quite manage it, which was just as well since Thomas was laughing, his eyes almost as bright as the day soon after they’d been married when she’d told him she was pregnant with Olivia.
“That’s wonderful.” He hefted her into his arms.
She squealed, and he raised her even higher, then twirled them both around in the small space between the stove and the table.
