Eleanor’s heart contracted, and emotion filled her from head to toe. He was such a sweet man, so very thoughtful and kind. Fear about the money he’d spent slipped aside, overwhelmed by the flood of gratitude she couldn’t hold back. Before she knew it, she’d thrown her arms around him and pressed the side of her face to his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered as hot tears of joy stung her eyes.
For a moment, he stood there, completely frozen. Then, slowly, she felt his arms rise and his hands reach around her shoulders. Enveloped in warmth and reveling in the feeling of safety and comfort, she stayed where she was. Gradually, he seemed to relax, and her eyes dried.
When she pulled back, he looked down at her in something she could only describe as reverence.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice rough, almost as if he hadn’t used it in a long time.
Eleanor looked down at the beautiful material and skeins of yarn. And now that her emotions had calmed, she began mentally adding up the cost of everything on the table. She bit down on her lip again as she frowned.
“Eleanor?” Merrick asked. “What’s wrong?”
Chapter Ten
JUST A MOMENT AGO,Eleanor had been so happy that she’d hugged him. And that was something Merrick would never forget, as long as he lived. Holding her in his arms was simultaneously the most wonderful and most terrifying thing he’d ever done. She trusted him, she wasn’t afraid of him, and—he hardly dared to hope—she liked him. He’d never wanted to let her go. Now she looked as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“It’s too much,” she said softly.
“You can save the extra for your own clothing,” he said, despite knowing exactly what she meant. “Or table doilies or . . .” He gestured at the windows.
“Curtains?” Eleanor filled in, hiding a smile at his mention of “table doilies.”
“Yes, those.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean the amount. Well, yes, Isupposeit is the amount. But really . . .” She took a deep breath, and he wondered if she was afraid to bring up the money.
If that was the case, then he figured it was his responsibility as her husband to mention it first. “You needn’t worry about the cost.”
Her brow furrowed. “But I added it up in my head, and—”
“Eleanor.” He reached out and took her hands. He was afraid she’d pull away, and it took everything he had not to do it first.But she didn’t, and he swallowed his fear to continue speaking. “Please don’t fret about the money. I assure you there is enough to see us through.”
Her eyes searched his face, as if she didn’t believe he was telling her the truth.
He wanted to look down at their hands, but he kept his gaze trained on hers instead. He wanted—needed—her to know she was safe and would be able to live without worrying about having enough coins to purchase what they needed. “I’ve had plenty of time to save my wages. I’ve been working as a smithy for years, and I’ve built up a good business. I’ve only ever had to do for myself. I never needed much, as you can see.”
She gave him a timid smile, and he thought that perhaps he might have convinced her. “This house alone is more than I ever could have imagined.”
That made him return her smile. “I built it myself after I got the shop done, with help from some of the other men in town.”
Eleanor was quiet for a moment, and Merrick’s gaze drifted toward her hands, warm and small and safe with his larger, calloused hands wrapped around them. In placing the advertisement for a bride, and even in writing that letter to Eleanor, he hadn’t allowed himself to imagine what it might be like once she was here. If he was being truthful to himself, it was mostly because he feared she’d take one look at him and jump on the next train back out of town.
