He squeezed her limp fingers. “But I hate the office politics and the confinement of four walls surrounded by miles of buildings. I lived outside for four years of war and prison.”
“That might be enough to make you never want to set foot outside again.”
He chuckled, then sobered. “Those years burned images in my mind and heart that will never fade away, and that continue to haunt my dreams. But they also taught me about honor, friendship, endurance, and courage.”
“I’m sorry about everything you went through.” She brushed her thumb against his knuckles.
He gentled his voice. “I know your past has left scars on your heart, as well.”
She glanced away. Uncomfortable with the focus on herself? He would avoid it for now. If all went well, there would time be enough in the future to ease her down that path.
He drew her hand to his lips. “I wasn’t happy in Philadelphia after the war. I was a walking shadow. Coming to Texas was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”
Her eyes glistened. “I should have latched onto you the first time you walked into my kitchen and not let go.”
Warmth simmered within him. Words spilled out. “No one says the newspaper room has to be in Philadelphia.”
Her brow furrowed. “Your father does.”
“But a wise ranch woman told me differently.”
His gaze met hers.
“What are you saying?” Her eyes sparkled in the lamplight.
His collar scratched his throat. He needed to get his head on straight. Even if she accepted his proposal, working or starting a paper in Texas wasn’t something that could happen in a month or two. He was too deeply entangled in his family’s affairs in Philadelphia for such a project to move at anything more than tortoise speed. Dabbing his mouth with his napkin, he pushed his plate back. “Shall we take a stroll?”
A few minutes later, she curled her fingers around the crook of his arm as they headed down the wooden plank sidewalk toward the French Quarter.
Gas streetlights glowed along Canal Street. He led her across the streetcar tracks. She snuggled close and stared wide-eyed at the buildings they passed. This was not her world. He had no right asking her to leave her home. But it was only a matter of time before his proposal worked its way up his throat. He flexed his hand at his side. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, get on a boat, or be anything but brain-addled until he asked.
The five-story Saint Louis Hotel with its huge dome loomed ahead. He’d heard of its marble floors and eighty-foot-high rotunda with towering columns. A beautiful place once, but not an ideal setting for a proposal, considering its use as a slave market before the war and a Union hospital during the conflict.
He led them down another street until they reached a garden accessible from a side street.
“Is this a public park?” she asked as he led her through the wrought-iron arch.
“No. But I walked for miles yesterday looking for a quiet outdoor place to bring you for…a chat. The owners are a sweet elderly couple who live in the brick house on the other side of that giant oak at the end of the walkway.”
She halted and turned to him. “You went to all that trouble just to find a place for our walk?”
Most important walk of his life. “I couldn’t find a porch swing, and I know you love the outdoors.”
She beamed. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She wrapped both hands around his arm as she glanced at the neatly clipped rows, vine-covered trellises, and arches shadowed in moonlight and the gaslight from the streets. He drew her to a wrought-iron bench beneath the branches of a magnolia, still clinging to its covering of leaves in December.
Instead of snuggling next to her, he sat at an angle, his knees resting against the folds of her skirt and cloak. With a silent prayer, he took her hands in his. His pulse throbbed in his head. “I love you, Cora. I started falling for you the moment I saw you march out of Mr. Coffin’s office, ready to take on the world. I admire your strength, determination, courage…your love for Charlie, your heart for the Lord, your beauty inside and out…”
She squeezed his hands, her own sweat mixing with his. “I greatly admire you, too, Ben McKenzie. You’re a man of honor, strong character, courage, perseverance, willing to sacrifice for those he loves, a man of faith who can be counted on?—”
“The war and prison battered my faith pretty badly. But you and Charlie turned all of that around. I wanted to be my best for you, and I knew I couldn’t do that without the Lord’s help. I don’t ever want to go back to the way I was before Texas.”
She didn’t flinch at the subtle reference to laudanum. Thank God.
Instead, she smiled. “You’re a mighty handsome man too.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, igniting a spark within him.
He slipped his hand beneath her jaw and drew her mouth to his. His lips closed over hers in a kiss that left him breathless and Cora clinging to him by the time he lifted his head.
His gaze settled into the fathomless sea of blue eyes. “Do you know what I see in your eyes?”
