Page 128 of Charlotte

Cecil must have felt their attention, because he turned then. His eyes found Lottie’s across the grass.

He left the preacher immediately and strode straight to her with long steps.

“I better join my husband.” Cornelia squeezed Lottie’s arm. “If you change your mind, the offer stands.”

When Cecil stopped before her, he took off his hat and glanced at the basket in her hand, before looking back to her face.

“Miss Bellamy,” he said.

“Mr. Peterson.”

Lottie held the basket with both hands because otherwise she might do something regrettable, such as strike Cecil with it or drop it at his feet and cry into the potato salad.

“You spoke with Preacher Sutton,” she said. It sounded like an accusation.

“I did.”

Her fingers tightened around the handle. “Without me?”

Pain crossed his face. “No.” The answer stopped her. “That was the first thing I told him. Not without you. Never again without you.”

The cold around Lottie’s heart cracked, so did her voice.

“What did you speak with him about?”

His throat worked once. “Marrying us.”

Her world changed quietly as the lake continued to move. The fiddle continued playing. Mrs. Hanford told a small child that cake before chicken was evidence of moral decline.

Lottie heard all of it from very far away.

“Marrying us,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“You refused me in a parsonage three days ago.”

“I know.”

“You nearly kissed me beside the lake and then informed me you did not know how to stop walking away.”

“I remember.”

“This morning you were about to kiss me under the maple tree and then decided you had not earned the right to do so.”

His ears darkened. “I remember that too.”

“Good. I would hate to be the only one keeping records.”

A faint, rough breath left him, almost laughter and pain.

“I have not earned everything,” he said. “I am here to ask. In daylight. Before I speak another word to the preacher about it, I need to ask you.”

Lottie looked down at the basket, then back up at him. “Ask what?”

Cecil stepped closer, not enough to crowd her, but enough to stop pretending distance was safer.

“Whether you still want me.”