He smiled. “That’s a very apt description. Thank you for listening to their stories.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and Jonathan hated that he’d made her anxious. “I want to apologize for my reaction to your news.”
Her mouth fell open, but she closed it quickly. “I am the one who ought to be apologizing,” she said. “Not you.”
“You’ve already done so. I confess I didn’t like learning of . . . your situation in the way I did, but it’s in the past now. The only question is how to move forward. And while I didn’t expect to welcome a child so soon, I hope you’ll still consider marrying me.” He didn’t question the words at all as he spoke them.
Hopefully that meant he was doing the right thing.
Catherine’s face radiated the most pure joy Jonathan had ever seen. “Yes. Yes, I will. Thank you.”
And before he knew it, she’d thrown her arms about him. He froze for a second, stunned by her exuberant reaction, before lifting his arms and wrapping them around her. It was almost too much, this closeness. Catherine was warm and soft and it took every ounce of strength he had not to bury his face in her curls.
She sat back, her face bright red. She brushed her hands over her skirts. “I shouldn’t have done that. Any one of the guests could have come in here and seen . . .”
“A happy couple about to be married?” he supplied with a grin that made her laugh.
“I love it here,” she said. “Thank you for letting me stay.”
Jonathan’s heart constricted at her simple words. “I couldn’t have it any other way.”
The way she looked at him, with such hope in her eyes, made his heart beat faster. He only hoped he could live up to her expectations of him. “I must see to a few more things. We’re due at the church at five.”
He needed to move, else he would start doubting himself and considering every flaw he possessed. He retreated to his room to change into work clothing, thinking that tackling the half-built shed behind the boarding house was ideal work for the afternoon. It would keep both his mind and his body fully occupied.
Before heading out to begin the work, Jonathan paused in front of the small looking glass propped up next to his washbasin and pitcher. In the reflection, his father looked back at him.
Jonathan frowned and laid the glass down flat. As much as he might look like his father, he was not the same man. He would be a good pa to Catherine’s child—hischild, he reminded himself. That little boy or girl she was carrying would be his, and he would be the only father that baby knew.
He drew in a shuddering breath at the weight of that responsibility. He’d always wanted children, even though the ghost of his own father’s failings loomed in the shadows of his mind.
He would be better. Hehadto be better.
Chapter Nine
THE WEDDING WAS A SIMPLEaffair, and afterward, Catherine settled easily into life at the boarding house. She helped Mrs. Bell, took meals with their guests, and enjoyed conversation with Jonathan in the evenings. A week passed easily, and as Sunday turned into Monday, Catherine felt as if the boarding house had always been her home.
