Page 24 of More than Words Can Say

“I’m not sure.” Evie shrugged. “We rarely had chocolate around the house growing up. But if you made it, I’m sure he’ll love it.” She touched Abigail’s shoulder and grinned. She really was a cheerful sort. And those eyes—so expressive. Abigail found it hard not to stare.

Forcing her attention back to the cake, Abigail brought the knife down for the next cut. “Will you be in town long? I’d love the chance to visit with you. To learn more about your brother.” She lowered her voice. “You might not realize, but our marriage is a bit . . . unconventional. We haven’t actually courted, so beyond his preference for sticky buns, his skill with lumber, and his penchant for rescuing bakers in distress, I really know very little about him.” Pulling the knife from the cake, she pivoted to face Evie. “I want to be a good wife to him. I swear I’m not just using him to get out of a bind.” Shame bent her gaze downward. “Well, I am, but—”

A hand on her arm stopped her rambling. Slowly, Abigail lifted her face to meet the vivid eyes of the woman before her.

“I’ve prayed for you,” Evie said. “For more than a year now.”

Abigail’s brow scrunched. More than a year? How was that even possible? She’d never met Evangeline Fowler before today, and judging by the commotion Evie made when she first arrived, Zach’s sister hadn’t known about her brother’s nuptials until this morning.

Evie laughed at her consternation. “Oh, I might not have known your name, but God did.” She smiled and pulled two chairs from the table, then motioned for Abigail to sit. “Ever since Logan came into my life, and Christie into Seth’s, I’ve pleaded with the Lord to bring the right woman into Zach’s life as well.” Her expression softened. “He gave up his future to take care of us when we were kids. He made sacrifice after sacrifice to ensure we had food to eat and a place to lay our heads.” She met Abigail’s gaze. “Some of those sacrifices carried prices he’s still paying.”

Abigail wanted to ask. Heavens, how she wanted to ask. But a crowded kitchen with children rambling about wasn’t the place. And really, the story should come from her husband, not his sister. Perhaps in time . . .

“You,” Evie pronounced with a tap to Abigail’s knee, “are the answer to those prayers.”

Abigail started to shake her head, but Evie stopped her with a wagging finger.

“Nope. No arguments. I asked the Lord to bring the right woman into Zach’s life, and He brought you. Therefore, you are the right woman. Never doubt it.”

Could it possibly be true? In Abigail’s selfish quest to find a husband to save her bakery, had Providence brought her into the life of a man who needed her as a wife? Abigail’s chin came up a notch, the idea shifting her perspective and planting a sense of purpose in her heart.

If Zach needed her as much as she needed him, well, that opened an entire realm of possibilities.

Abigail reached for Evie’s hand. “You are staying a few days, right? I have a hundred questions for you.”

Zach’s sister laughed. “I’d love nothing better than to tell stories on Zach all weekend, but I’m afraid we’re heading back to Pecan Gap in the morning. Seth refuses to be away from Christie for more than one night.” She leaned forward, a twinkle shining in her blue eye. “She’s expecting their first baby.”

“How wonderful!” Abigail smiled even as her spine sagged in disappointment. She was venturing into an unknown country, and the most experienced guide available was leaving her to flounder about on her own.

“You ladies ready for me to call the men?” Audrey Sinclair shot the question over her shoulder while sliding sizzling potato slices onto an already heaping platter.

No! I need more time. But, of course, that wasn’t what Abigail said. She rose from her chair, smiled, and resumed slicing the cake. “Sure.”

Audrey sent her daughter Dinah to fetch the men from the parlor, and voices soon echoed through the hall as the herd approached.

Evie stood and leaned in close. “I will give you one piece of advice, though.”

Abigail turned her head, cake forgotten. “What?”

“Don’t expect him to tell you how he feels,” Evie murmured, glancing toward the doorway as the voices increased in volume. “Look for his feelings in his actions. That’s where they live.” The men poured into the kitchen, and Evie waved to her husband. “Zach’s more of a grunter than a sharer,” she said in parting, “but don’t let that fool you. His heart is as big as they come.”

Abigail knew he had a big heart. He never would have let her talk him into this arrangement if he didn’t. But would she ever be able to claim a piece of that heart as her own?

She stared at the man standing just inside the door, the man chatting with a brother he’d obviously missed, yet a man who also seemed to sense her regard, for he turned his head and pinned her with his dark blue eyes.

Her skin tingled, her stomach danced, but she held his gaze. She expected one of his nods, like the ones he gave her when leaving the bakery—acknowledgment with just a hint of personal connection—but instead of dipping his chin, he moved his feet in her direction.

Belly tightening, she turned back to her cake and positioned her knife, even though plenty had already been sliced.

“You make it?” The warm, masculine voice of her new husband rumbled close to her ear.

She pasted on a smile as she lifted her head to face him. “Yes.”

Goodness, he was close. Bare inches separated them. She jerked her attention back to the cake, her hand trembling slightly as she moved the knife to cut the last piece. With all the guests cramming inside, the kitchen had grown crowded. When little Ephraim wiggled his way through the guests’ legs to get to his mama by the stove, Zach bumped up against Abigail. The contact was brief but sufficient to scorch her with memories of his touch on her face. His kiss.

“Can I have some?” he asked.

She spun to face him, knife still in hand.