Page 11 of A Wishful Bride


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Her eyes widened in alarm as she clutched the plate of butter she’d come to fetch from the springhouse.

“You’ve nothing to fear,” he said, reaching out a hand to help her up the snowy bank.

Rebecca took it, and he held fast to her hand. She trusted him, not only with her life but with the lives of her children. The weight of that responsibility settled around Levi’s shoulders, and he vowed that nothing would ever happen to them. He would take every caution available to protect them from the dangers in this world—including the one just a few miles to the south.

And when you’ve finished this assignment?the voice in the back of his head asked.

Levi pressed his lips together in a line and shoved the question away.

“Thank you,” Rebecca said softly, and he realized he was still holding her hand.

He let go and covered his embarrassment by reaching back to gather the horse’s reins. “I’ll walk back with you.”

She gave him a smile so sweet that Levi wasn’t entirely certain what he’d said or done to deserve it. All he knew was that it lifted the cloud of not yet catching Alexander Prather, and made him feel as if he’d won some grand prize.

“I must give you fair warning that Sarah is planning to ask you to build her a doll’s cradle. She’s convinced that since you made a bed, you could make this for her too.” Rebecca glanced at him, and he had the feeling she was gauging his reaction to this information.

But the request made him smile. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but the children seemed to like him. Even when he couldn’t think of what to say to them, or he couldn’t understand their silly jokes, they still clamored for his attention. It was both flattering and confounding. “I might be able to do that.”

“Only if you have the time. I know you’re busy with your duties.”

A hint of guilt wound its way through Levi for keeping his own secrets. In an effort to make up for his own shortcomings, he found himself asking, “When is Sarah’s birthday?”

“May. The same month as Emmy,” Rebecca replied, and Levi realized that not only didn’t he know any of the children’s birthdays, but he didn’t know Rebecca’s either.

“Roger was born in July, and Gwynnie and Johnnie are autumn babies,” Rebecca went on.

“And their mother?” Levi asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“The twenty-fourth of February,” she said.

That was soon. He tucked that piece of information away for later.

“Well?” Rebecca was looking at him expectantly.

Was she expecting him to commit to some sort of gift? Or wish her a happy birthday already?

Rebecca shook her head and smiled before reaching out to take his arm. “When is your birthday?”

He barely heard the question with all of his attention focused on the way she’d wrapped her arm around his elbow. It was . . . nice. It made him feel as if she trusted him, and as if she enjoyed being in his company.

Heat flushed his neck, and he was grateful for the collar on his coat. “December the thirtieth,” he finally managed to say.

She paused then, forcing him to stop too. “Do you mean to tell me that your birthday passed, and you failed to say anything?”

Levi shrugged. “You needn’t make anything of it. It’s good enough to simply be alive.” A lump formed in his throat as he realized how true that statement was. His brother would never get another birthday.

Rebecca made an irritated sound in her throat, and they continued to walk. “I should have liked to at least bake you a cake.”

“I’d prefer apple pie,” he said with the hint of a smile driving away his melancholy thoughts.

That made Rebecca laugh, and Levi found himself grinning at the sound. It was odd, how this woman could drive such a sudden change in his emotions. She was like persistent sunshine on a rainy day, creating a rainbow whether he wanted one or not.

They soon reached the house, and Levi turned his horse out in the corral while Rebecca put the finishing touches on the mid-day meal. He opened the door to find a simple but hearty spread—and Roger rifling through the papers that Levi had filed neatly away in his desk.