Page 40 of The Gift of Seeds
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”
Hester could hear the distress in his voice. “Youdidn’t.” More sobs followed her words.
He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
Like a child, she turned her face to his chest and wept, only dimly aware of Lucy’s barking in the house.
His other arm came around her to enfold her tight. He lowered his cheek to the top of her head and let her cry.
And cry she did. Months, maybeyearsof tears.
After a while, he gave her shoulder a little jiggle. “Come, my dear Miss Smith, you’ll become chilled.”
“Hester.” She wavered out her name. “Call me Hester.”
“Hester, let me take you inside.”
She uncurled and sat up, the wetness of her face almost freezing. Shivering, she allowed him to help her stand, while she still held his gift clasped against her chest.
His arm stayed around her.
“My seeds.” She pointed to the dimly seen dots scattered in the snow.
“I have more.” He opened the door and ushered her inside.
Lucy waited by the door, her eyes concerned. She jumped up, pressing her front paws onto Hester’s thigh.
With her free hand, she petted the dog. “I’m all right, sweet girl.”
Apparently reassured, the dog dropped, sniffed Mr. Marsden’s legs, and wagged her tail.
“Let’s get you close to the fire.” Without releasing Hester, he guided her toward the fireplace and settled her into a chair. “You’re shivering.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocketand handed it to her. Removing his coat, he draped it over her front.
Hester set his gift on the floor beside the chair, mopped her eyes and blew her nose, avoiding his gaze. She folded the square and handed it back.
“Keep it.” He cupped his hand over hers. “I have the feeling you’re not done.”
After a long, slow breath, she tucked the handkerchief into the cuff of her sleeve.
“Your hands are like ice.” He went down on one knee to rub her hands. “My intention was never to upset you.”
“Your gift isbeautiful,” Hester said fiercely. “I was feeling so lonely and discouraged. I’m sorry to be such a watering pot.” Embarrassed, she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Here, I’ve been trying to be so strong. But with missing my brother, trying to single-handedly bake something that needs more than two hands. Missing my best friend and her family, with whom I should be celebrating right now.”
“Hester.” He gave her hands a little pull to draw her attention. “Only a woman of incredible strength would uproot her life, undertake a solitary journey to an unfamiliar Western town, face her loss head-on, and make a new life for herself.”
More tears dripped down her cheeks.
He squeezed her hands and released them, reaching up to wipe away her tears with his thumbs. Then he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Crying doesn’t mean you’reweak. It means you’re sad…so very sad.”
Hester mustered a smile.What a kind, dear man.“Mr. Marsden?—”
“Dale,” he corrected. “I do believe we are on a first name basis now, Hester.”
“Dale.You need to go. You’ll be late for church.”
“What about you?” He rose to his feet.
She returned his coat to him. “No one will notice my absence.”
