“I’m sorry about my aunt,” she said as he sped down her drive. “She speaks from a place of love.” And protection. Hattie’s trust was founded in God, but they both feared losing someone else they loved. When Olivia returned, she would reassure Hattie that no matter what the future held, her love and care for her aunt would not be diminished.
Simon turned onto the dirt lane. “I’m not upset about her.”
“What’s the matter?” Confused about this man who’d just declared his love, Olivia clung to the edge of the seat in an attempt to steady herself as Simon raced through the trees.
He replied with a shake of his head, the dust clouding behind them, and she decided to wait until his mood passed. The Lord knew how moody she was at times. She could expect nothing less from this man beside her,equally as human. One thing she’d learned from her years of marriage was sometimes one needed space to recuperate soundness of mind.
Lunch was spent in moderate silence, then he took her to see a movie at the Lititz theater—The Philadelphia Storystarring Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Olivia was swept away in the story about frustration and then forgiveness as a former husband and wife rekindled their romance. Perhaps that was the power of a moving picture, inspiring audiences to laugh and cry and ultimately forgive, embracing those they loved in real life.
“Did you like the movie?” she asked as Simon drove back toward Haven House, both his hands on the wheel. Neither the food nor the lighthearted film took the edge off his mood.
“It’s as good as any I’ve seen.”
She pressed her gloved fingers together as if it would help her find the source of his frustration. “Are you angry at me?”
His gaze stayed on the road. “Your aunt accused me of being a heretic.”
“She was wrong to do that.”
“Yet you did nothing to defend me. I even declared my love for you, however misplaced, but you remained silent in my defense.”
She replayed the conversation in her mind, but with all the sentiment this afternoon, the haze of emotion, pieces seemed to be missing. She had told Hattie that she thought Simon kind, hadn’t she? It wasn’t as strong as love, of course, but his declaration had surprised her.
He tapped the brakes. “Have you any feeling toward me beyond friendship?”
“I do,” she said, peeling her glove up and then back down her fingers.
He pulled off the road and parked his Pierce-Arrow on the shoulder. “Then why didn’t you express it?”
If only he’d seen her staring into the mirror hours ago, her imagination wandering to the possibilities for their future, but she wasn’t elegantor outspoken like Katharine Hepburn. Most days, her strongest conversations remained in her head.
“My aunt was right about the differences in our age.”
He reached for her hand, stripped off its glove, and grasped it to his chest. “My heart beats just the same as yours.”
“Did you mean what you said about your love?”
“I did.”
She smiled. “Then our hearts beat similar indeed.”
When he kissed her hand, the touch of his lips shot through her skin.
“No one else can determine our future,” he said, steering the car back onto the road.
Except God,she thought but didn’t speak the words, not wanting to condemn his faith like her aunt had done. The sentiment between them was understood.
As he drove slowly up the lane, his hand lingered over hers. “And I hope my future is with you.”
She rested her head on his shoulder before she stepped out of the car, allowing the moments to pass in a contented silence, the foul mood forgotten as he held her close.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“I’m afraid I hurt easily these days.”
“We’ll help each other find our way again.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I believe we will.”
