Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

" A men," Abraham said and lifted his head.

The man he'd been praying for lifted his head as well, but his cheeks were wet with tears. He grabbed hold of Abraham's hand in both of his. "Thank you so much. I'm so sorry for the trouble I've caused you. You're Mr. Thomas, right?"

Shaking his head, he told the man, "Please, it's just Abraham. Abraham Thomas."

The man nodded, shaking the hand that he held. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Joe. Joe Curtis."

His brow quirked a bit at the mention of the name. This was the former blacksmith who'd been helping the Cahill family before Abraham had come. Although he didn't know the exact details of what had made that arrangement end. He'd gathered from the few scraps of conversation the two ladies had had about the man that Joe wasn't a very good or honest man. Today he'd also proven to be violent and troubled. "Well, Joe. I'm satisfied with your apology to me, but it's really someone else who you should make amends with."

"You're right," he said as he turned toward Miss Cahill. "Please forgive me, Sadie. I promise that I'll never lay a hand on you again."

Miss Cahill nodded, her hand still fluttering at her throat.

There were all kinds of emotions running through Abraham in that moment. That the man would have the gall to call Miss Cahill by her first name made him envious. When she reached for her throat and Abraham was reminded of the scene he'd stumbled upon, anger surged within him and he wanted to throttle the man who stood in front of him. But he knew that these emotions he needed to keep under control. Not his, but God's. Because if it was up to Abraham to control any of this situation, he'd just as soon beat the tar out of Joe instead of praying for him. But as he let out a long breath, praying to stay calm, he felt at peace with how things were turning out.

However, he knew he would feel better the further this man got away from Miss Cahill.

Bowing to both of them and apologizing again, Joe Curtis finally turned on his heel and walked away. And Abraham was right, the tension was leaving him as the man left. And after a moment, he and Miss Cahill stood alone in the alley way. He turned to her. "Are you certain you're all right?"

Her green eyes met his, her piercing gaze penetrating him right down to the soul, and his heart beat harder at its intensity. Then she asked, "What did you mean by what you said?"

Confused he shook his head. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

"Your intended. That's what you called me."

"Oh," he said, dropping his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well? What did you mean by that?"

"I… You… Your aunt—"

"My aunt?"

"Your aunt told me to woo you. She wants us to be wed," he offered as an excuse, finally looking up, and what he saw made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

There was pain in her eyes, hurt there as her gaze wavered and then fell. "Oh…"

Was she hurt by his excuse—his lie of omission? "No, that's not what I mean. You're not my intended because your aunt wants us to be wed. I want us to be wed."

Her gaze snapped back up again the emotions swirling within her eyes. "You do?"

Slowly he nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to be like this. It's true that your aunt wanted me to woo you, but I wasn't sure how to go about that. And the more time I spent with you, the more I wanted to do as she suggested. I wanted to somehow convince you that perhaps we should court and be married. But I was afraid. Afraid that you would reject my affection. Afraid that you would turn me away. I… I would rather have never tried to woo you at all and remain as we are then ruin what we now have. I shouldn't have told that man who attacked you that you were my intended when you never gave me permission to do so. I felt that he would have more respect for what he'd done if he knew the offense he'd committed wasn't just against you but against me, too. Still, I shouldn't have done it. I ask for your forgiveness and will not say anything like that again, Miss Cahill."

"No," she said firmly. "I hate that you call me that."

His breath caught and he suddenly couldn't breathe. She hated him.

"Don't call me that again."

As his heart continued to break, he nodded and looked down. "I'd never call you my intended again. I'm sorry."

"No," she said again. "Not that. You can call me that. I don't want you to call me Miss Cahill again."

Confused, he looked up, unsure what to say or ask her, but hope was sparking in his core. "You… you give me permission to call you my intended."

She nodded. "And it's Sadie. Not Miss Cahill."

"Sadie," he whispered, still feeling unsure.

"And I want you to know that you've already succeeded."

"Succeeded?" he asked.

"You've already wooed me. You did it with your kindness and your strength and your humility and your respect. Every day you made it harder for me to resist you and each moment that you spent with me, I craved more. You… you made me desire for you to call me your intended and I, too, want us to be wed."

His eyes widened as he stepped closer to her. "Do you mean it?"

She nodded.

Reaching out, he touched her cheek lightly and she leaned into his hand. His heart thundered in his chest and the desire to embrace her came upon him again.

"I love you," she whispered and closed her eyes.

Suddenly the pain in his chest as his heart grew wild made him put a hand against it. He pulled away from her cheek, causing her eyes to snap open. He shook his head and backed away. "We need to get out of here. We need to get back on those horses and back to Tonganoxie."

She blinked at him. "What do you mean, Abraham?"

His heart leapt. "I can't be with you alone like this right now. It's driving me crazy. Let's get back home and hurry and get married. If you tell me you love me again like that… if you say my name like that, my resolve might melt completely."

Suddenly, her eyes turned playful, and she smiled a little. "I love you, Abraham Thomas."

He gasped and backed further away, covering his ears with his hands. "Hurry, we need to go."

Before she could even answer, he raced forward toward the end of the alley, heading for the livery. He was being honest with her when he said that he couldn't stay there with her like this. The desire to kiss her and embrace her and touch her was too great and they were alone in that alley, and he didn't want to sully any of those beautiful moments by being impatient. A chaperone would definitely not allow it. Penelope would be flabbergasted if she found out. Once he was nearly out of the alley, he turned back to find her a few steps behind him. Relieved, his shoulders relaxed.

Then she stuck out her hand.

He looked at it questioningly.

Smiling playfully, still, she said, "You could hold my hand and lead me out. You are my intended you know."

His heart leapt again, and he looked around. Finally, there were people about and several of them were heading toward the livery as well. Feeling safe, he took hold of her hand. The warmth of her small palm sent a tingle up his arm. And, acting on whimsy, he pulled her closer, brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it gently. Her eyes went wide, and surprise replaced the playfulness that was there in the alley. Then he followed his next impulse and leaned forward, whispering, "I love you, Sadie Cahill."