My Faith. The words warmed her from the inside out, more than the fire blazing before them ever could. Was she his Faith? Was that possible? Did she want it to be possible? The thoughts chased each other through her mind until she banished them. She was so tired of debating with herself, with being sad, with questioning every move she made.
Perhaps she would just let it all be as it was. At least for one evening.
And with that, she sunk into the chair, feeling as if she’d just thrown off the weight of so many expectations, so much grief, and so much guilt. Instead, it was just her, this comfortable room, and Beau. It was the feel of his hand wrapped about hers, the cozy warmth, and a feeling of satisfaction.
She reveled in the simplicity of it all. This was how she used to live—until life had complicated everything. Was it possible to feel like this again? Even if not all the time, perhaps sometimes?
Celia’s words came back to her.Aaron wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life alone. Did that extend to loving another husband?
It was all so complicated, and it felt good to take that thought and put it aside and simply sit in this chair and enjoy the moment.
“Tell me how Celia appeared. Did she look well?” Faith finally asked.
“As well as can be. She asked that you ride out and visit with her.”
That was something she could do now that Beau was here. Faith smiled into the firelight. “I will.”
Beau regaled her with stories of how inept he’d felt at the farm, and Faith laughed along with him. She told him Celia’s stories of Jack’s gradual adjustment to farm life—how he hadn’t understood that one needed to feed the animals daily or that a man had to rise before the sun in order to have enough time to accomplish the day’s chores.
“This talk makes me glad you opted for a life in town,” Beau said.
“I enjoyed growing up on a farm, and I would have happily been a farmer’s wife, but Aaron loathed the work of plowing and praying for rain and hoping insects didn’t destroy the crops. It was all too volatile for him. He didn’t know what he might do when we arrived here, but he knew he wanted us to live in town. It just so happened that the man who ran this office had fallen ill and needed to return to Chicago for treatment. He spent one day showing Aaron how to work the machine, and then he was gone.” Faith smiled at the memory. They’d been so new to everything—town life, Nebraska, the telegraph. They’d fumbled through it all together, and it had worked out.
Beau watched her with a little smile, and she realized that the memory had made her happy instead of sad.
“We ought to get some rest,” he said, standing and pulling her up with him.
It had been such a lovely evening that she almost didn’t want it to end. What if tomorrow she woke up feeling the same way she had for months? What if this lighthearted feeling disappeared forever?
“Faith?” Beau lit a lamp nearby and shook out the match. “Are you well?”
“I am.” She turned a grateful smile to him. He was the reason behind her ability to simply sit and relax for once. “I enjoyed tonight. Thank you.”
He adjusted the lamp and then turned a radiant smile toward her. “Had I known it was so easy to please you, I might have saved some money on that dress.”
“I adore that dress, thank you.” She swatted at him and he caught her hand.
“I’m glad. I’d do anything to make you happy.”
Faith swallowed as he intertwined his fingers with hers and took a step toward her, closing off any distance that had been between them. She was warmer now than when she’d sat before the fire. Part of her wanted to flee—to jump between her bedcovers and hide.
The other part of her wanted to rise up on her tiptoes and press her lips to his.
She looked down at the floor. Where hadthatthought come from? Certainly, she’d wondered before if he would kiss her, but she’d not imagined herself leading that charge.
“Faith.” Beau’s voice was even lower than usual. His fingers found her chin and gently tilted it upward, until her eyes met his. “I can’t tell you how lucky I feel that you chose me to write to.”
“I . . .” Words escaped her for one of the few times in her entire life. How could she put two thoughts together in a way that made any sense whatsoever when he held her gaze with those eyes that seemed to see right into her soul, or with the firm but gentle way he held her chin? Faith thought she might melt into a puddle right there on the floor, like wax against the flame.
His eyes searched her face until she could hardly stand it any longer. If he didn’t kiss her right now, she would likely throw herself at him just so she could stop thinking about it.
But she didn’t have to resort to such measures because finally, he lowered his head and met her mouth with his. The kiss was gentle but firm. He was holding back, and for that Faith was grateful. She clung to his hand and let every remaining thought flee her mind save for the feel of his lips against her own.
It was all too short and yet it seemed to last forever. Finally, the old feeling of betrayal she’d done so well at pushing away crept in, and Faith pulled away. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breathy as she looked away.
Beau ran a thumb over her cheek. “Don’t be. I told you I’d wait as long as you needed, and I will.”
She nodded, a lump rising in her throat at his infinite patience even as her own doubts swirled in her head.
“We ought to get some sleep if we have any hope of being useful tomorrow,” he said, dropping his hand from her face.
Faith drew in a breath. “Good night.”
“Good night,cher,” he said.
To Faith’s wonder, as she lay in bed a few minutes later, it wasn’t guilt or fear that she would forget Aaron that ran through her mind. Instead, she felt at peace. She didn’t question why, but instead closed her eyes, reveling in the simple feeling she’d missed for so long.
At long last, her future held hope.
