“It was like skimming through a novel without fully engaging with the story until a well-turned phrase or powerful bit of imagery snagged her attention, hinting at depths previously unnoticed.”

“No, she’d spent the last five years begging the Lord to help her find contentment in her spinster status. And he’d been faithful. She had her library, her Ladies Aid work, the children’s reading hour. She could come and go as she pleased, spend her money as she deemed fit, all without the hassle of first gaining a man’s permission. And if the loneliness sometimes ate away at her like water poured on a sugarloaf . . . ? Well, God had seen her through the last five years. She figured he could be depended upon to see her through the next fifty.”

“Your kite, milady?"She curtsied and handed it to him. "Why, thank you, Sir Tucker. Take care, though. The fabric is wont to snag.”

“You got someone else courting you?""No." The fork she'd been scrubbing slid from her hand, returning to the murky depths. "But then, I wasn't sure I had you courting me, either. I seem to recall you expressing a number of objections to my suitability in the past.”

“The fiasco in the barn flashed through her mind. Yesterday she'd showered him with oats and today she'd pummeled him with a broom. At this rate, he'd be dead by the end of the week.”

“All this time she’d thought it God’s will that she be a spinster. She had grown content with that expectation, taking satisfaction in the wisdom she’d gained through her experience with Stephen. No man would dupe her again. But what if living alone was never part of God’s plan for her? What if she chose that life because it was safe—because she was afraid?”

“Jericho? You're smiling." "I am?" He stroked her cheek again. Warm tingles coursed through her, and instinctively, she followed his touch a second time. His smile widened. "I must be happy." (...) "You're quite handsome when you're happy." Jericho trailed one finger under her chin. "I'll make a note of your preference.”