Close to Home by Emma Miller

Chapter 14

"Let me show you how much I could love you."

His words hung in the air, but when Mary didn't answer, Caleb finally said, "At least let me drive you home. If you go back to your aunt's without Miriam, she'll want to know why. Everyone saw me follow you out of the singing."

"I suppose that would be all right." 

Her voice sounded throaty, as though she were about to cry. He couldn't stand it if she cried. "Am I so bad that you're afraid to ride in my buggy?"

"Ne." She sighed, clutching her hands. "I'm sorry for my behavior. I accept your apology and I will ride with you."

A tingle of hope ran down his spine. "And you'll let me court you?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." She managed a little laugh. "Let's see if we can mend our friendship first."

Caleb hurried back to untie his horse and brought the buggy down the road at a fast pace. He was afraid that when he got back to where he'd left her, Mary would have vanished. But she was there, waiting for him, and he felt a glimmer of hope. He reined in his gelding and got out to help her into the buggy.

Mary sat on the far side of the bench seat, leaving a space between them. 

"I have something to offer a wife," he said, when they'd gone half the distance from the Kings' farm to her aunt and uncle's home. Mary didn't answer. The only sounds were the steady sound of the horse's hooves striking the blacktop, the chirp of crickets and the creaking of the buggy wheels.

"I've promise of a fine farm. Farming is all I've ever wanted to do. My father wanted me to learn wheelwrighting from my uncle and grandfather, but I never really took to it. I like the smell of new-turned ground in the spring and watching crops grow from seed to harvest."

He tried to think of what might be important to a woman, some argument that would convince her, as he directed the buggy into the driveway.

"There's a fine house, too—two-story brick, a solid building with room for a big family."

She still said nothing and his hopes sagged. Maybe it was too late to mend the breach between them. Maybe Mary's anger over what he'd done had made her bitter. But he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Mary, if you've forgiven me, why aren't you talking to me?" The horse came to a stop beside the hitching rail. "Mary?"

She turned to look at him and the moonlight lit her face. "Would you stop talking long enough for me to invite you in for a cup of coffee?"