Chapter 18
SHE'D WORN A DEEP BLUEensemble, simple and elegant.
And the color continued to draw Noah's gaze to Kizzie's eyes.
Or that was the excuse he kept telling himself.
Yes. She had unique eyes. Expressive eyes. Eyes that somehow held him captive without any hint of seduction on her part.
They held a sort of internal glow which somehow reached into his broken heart and started it beating again. She brought out his laugh, even his teasing.
And the idea of it all was preposterous.
Yet here he sat, enjoying the lovely, snowy afternoon with her by his side on the seat of a wagon on the way to his home.
They crested the hill, the house before them, and just beyond stood the mill.
“That's the mill?”
Kizzie's question pulled his attention toward the large, box-shaped edifice he knew as well as his own home. “It is. Father wanted the house nearby to keep close for any of the mill's needs.”
“I reckon having it so close is both a good and bad thing.”
“Indeed.” Her insight kept impressing him. “He had a tendency to overwork himself. And he expected perfection, from himself and everyone else.”
Her gaze warmed his profile. “I was going to ask whether you or George was more like him, but I think you just answered that question.”
He turned to her, grin in place. “Did I? You don't think I work hard, Miss McAdams?”
“I've not seen you work, Mr. Lewis,” she shot back. “But I suspect you're a hard worker. I just think you probably know when to stop and how to set the proper priorities.”
He hoped so. Unlike his father.
“I do believe you're teasing me, Kizzie.”
Her grin crooked. “Turnabout's fair play, I hear.” She nodded toward the mill. “It sure is a sight though. A whole lot bigger than what I thought a mill would look like.”
“You mean, you've never been in one?”
She shook her head. “I've never been in a house the size of yours either, so maybe that will give you an idea of my little world.” She paused and stared out over the landscape. “Well, it wasn't little. I always thought it was growing up, and I felt trapped in it, but we had views as big as the sky and stories to match. So I guess part of the problem was just how I saw my world. You know what I mean?”
It was as if she spoke directly to his slow-healing heart. “Often times it's difficult to see a different perspective when it's all we've known. I didn't realize how much my father was driven by status and social acceptance until I watched him drive away my sister. Then all the times he directed us away from certain people or enforced certain trivial rules began to take on a new meaning. That it wasn't about keeping his family safe as much as keeping up appearances.”
Kizzie's gaze focused on him, but she waited, in that quiet, unnerving way she'd done before. Not pushing for an explanation, but giving him time to decide how far he wanted to go in the story, how much of the brokenness he wanted to share.
Up ahead, Mother emerged onto the front porch of the house, her smile wide.
“Ah, it looks as if Mother can barely contain her excitement.” He nodded, and Kizzie followed his attention. “It's remarkable how God took an overturned carriage in a snowstorm and turned it into a way to bring my mother out of her shell.”
“God tends to do things like that, doesn't He? Work out life's tangles into a better plan than we could ever make.” She drew in a deep breath. “I realize I'm in my own predicament because of my choices, but He loves me so much that …” Her pause drew his attention, and the watery film in those blue depths captured him, heart and soul. “He'd give me this job and the opportunity to serve those women at the boardinghouse, and … friends like you and your mama. It's kind of like getting the Christmas presents you never expected because you'd been so bad all year long.”
What a heart! Had he ever met anyone like her before? A beautiful mix of confidence and humble. Of grateful and humorous. Of penitent and hopeful.
And all he wanted to do was spend more time beside her, basking in the glow flowing through that hope she carried around like a badge.
“Sounds exactly like what Christmas is all about, doesn't it?”
Her smile bloomed, full and wide, the resident glow lighting those eyes. “That's right. It sure does. Getting something amazing when we aren't looking and don't even deserve it.” She sighed again and then raised her chin to gesture toward the mill. “Is it all just one big room, or do you have it broken up into smaller rooms?”
