“Is it true she’s the granddaughter of acomte?”
“So she says. I have no reason to disbelieve her.”
“Did you know that when you rescued her?”
So Sabine knew that little-discussed detail?
“If you mean did that fact play into my decision to help her,non.” He held his temper by a thread. “What do you mean byrescue?”
“The boy—Titus—told someone you settled both their indenture contracts and redeemed them.”
“And if I did?”
“Granted, you’ve always been generous but this seems… peculiar.”
He halted, wiping his brow with his sleeve. “Placing happiness in the heart of another is peculiar?”
“It is more than that,” she said heatedly. “Much more.”
He wouldn’t deny it. Nor would he discuss it. He continued pitching hay but she circled and stood in front of him.
“You’re in love with her…” Her features tightened. “I feel it!”
So the truth was laid bare. How many knew besides Sylvie and Sabine?
He held her gaze. “I confess, I am not made of ice.”
Tears glittered in her eyes. “I have waitedyearsfor you.”
“There has never been an understanding between us.”
“Non, but I’ve continued to hope you would return my affections ever since you joined forces with my father years ago. I have long dreamed of an alliance between the Broussards and Galants.”
“Once, perhaps, our families were renowned. Respected. As for the other matter, you cannot force affection.” His bluntness seemed harsh but necessary. “What we have is an enduring friendship.”
She batted away a horsefly, all the more exasperated. “I’ll never be satisfied with such.”
He chafed at the obvious. Sabine had ever been persistent, rarely showing restraint. That Broussard trait had helped fuel the Resistance but seemed misplaced here. “Then your mislaid affections will blind you to the one who can give you what I cannot.”
Speechless, she stared at him and then, whirling away, she fled the stables. He stood motionless, breathing in his earthy surroundings amid the profound relief of her leaving.
“Bleu.”
Brielle stood at the stables’ entrance. Had she crossed paths with Sabine as she left? He set aside the pitchfork, glad her expression wasn’t troubled or perplexed but serene.
“I don’t mean to halt your work…” she began.
Her smile seemed a lanthorn, lighting her lovely features. That was certainly how he felt in her presence. Full of light, life.She signaled the future. Sabine reminded him of the past—the darkness—all that had been lost.
“Let’s leave all this earthiness behind.” Touching her arm, he led her into the open, beyond the heavy scents of manure and fodder.
Unfit for acomte’sgranddaughter, he thought half in jest.
“Walk to the chapel with me,” she said. “There’s such peace there.”
He felt it, too, though he’d given it little thought before. Was Sabine watching? She might well follow, impassioned as she was. Chary, he opened the chapel door and then left it ajar to admit fresh air. They sat where they had at first, facing the altar. Peaceful and private, a rarity in a swelling, sweltering settlement.
She looked down at her folded hands. “Miss Broussard said she asked you to return her to Acadie—Nova Scotia.”
