“Thunder and turf!”

“Was it so wrong to relish the feeling anyway? To enjoy the way it lingered, leaving her with a wistful awareness, a pleasant unease, as if she had forgotten to do something? Yes, it probably was wrong. But she did not wish it away.”

“She also watched Miss Upchurch as she danced with Mr. Hudson. They bounded through the steps in lively abandon. Mr. Hudson’s form was a bit ungainly, but he had never seemed so young and handsome as he did while dancing with Miss Upchurch.”

“I remember everything about you, Miss Macy. Every moment between us—the good and the bad.” He chuckled dryly. “Though I prefer to linger on more recent pleasant moments.”

“I found I quite enjoyed having you under the same roof. Being able to see you, hear your voice many times a day. I miss that.” His eyes locked on hers. “I miss you.”

“How rough your hands still are.”Embarrassed, she made to pull them away, but he held them fast. “Yet never have I longed to kiss any woman’s hands as I long to kiss these.”

“I love you, Margaret Macy. And there is something I need to ask you. Something I’ve asked twice before and am nearly afraid to ask again. The Scriptures say let our yes be yes and our no be no, but I pray, in your case, your no may have changed . . . ?” Margaret leaned forward and kissed him firmly, warmly, on the lips. Then she smiled at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Yes, it most definitely has.”