When the lesson was over and the girls had run inside, chattering with excitement, Livvy asked Albert to bring her buggy around. Instead, Jeremiah came out leading the horse and rig.
“Thanks, Jeremiah.”
“It’s nothing,” he stammered and then switched to signs. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for teasing the girls before. I don’t know why I did it. But I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, dear. You apologized when you went to all the trouble to make the new stool and give it to them. And now you’ve apologized verbally.”
“I told Brenda I was sorry, too. I think she forgave me.”
“I’m sure she did. And I forgive you. And I know God does, too. So I don’t think you need to worry about it anymore.”
A quiet joy shone on the boy’s face, softening the hard edges of his jaw.
“Well, I’ll see you at church Sunday, Miss Livvy.”
“And I’ll be looking forward to seeing you there.” Livvy smiled and climbed into the buggy, then drove away.
As she rounded the drive by the house, she found Charles waiting. “Would it be all right if I come over later?”
“Actually, Ma told me to invite you to supper.”
“Perfect. I’ll be over in a little while.”
Livvy smiled and quickly drove away before he had a chance to kiss her or hug her or yank her off the buggy seat. There was no predicting what Charles would do these days. But she had to admit that, so far, she liked it.
She got home in time to freshen up, then help Ma finish supper. Charles paid plenty of compliments to the meal, which made Ma beam. Pa kept giving Charles strange looks and it was with a sense of relief that Livvy stepped outside with Charles after supper.
“Goodness. Pa was acting strange. I’m so sorry, Charles.”
“I’m not offended at all. I think he’s wondering what my intentions are toward his daughter.” He took her hand as she stepped off the porch.
Livvy blushed and warmth slid down her body. Did Charles have intentions toward her? It certainly sounded like it. And if so, she had no doubt they were honorable. And that would mean...marriage? She hastened to change the subject rather than let her imagination run wild. “Let’s walk by the river.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I was so happy with Jeremiah today. He not only gave the girls the new stool, which works very well, by the way, but he apologized profusely. And he meant it.”
“I believe Jeremiah has always had a good heart. It just got a little hard through the years.”
“It’s no wonder. He’s had so much to endure. I’m glad it’s over.”
As they neared the river, Charles took her hand in his. Her heart sped up. Oh, God, I think I’m going to faint.
She took several slow breaths and soon calm was restored. Now she was conscious of his hand, strong but gentle around hers.
They walked in silence, hand in hand, until finally Charles said, “I’d better get you inside or your father will likely do more than give me ‘looks.’”
Livvy giggled as Charles left her at the front door. She giggled again as he mounted his horse and rode away, then wondered why in the world she had giggled. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day. And he hadn’t even kissed her.
* * *
“That’s a terrible idea, Hattie.” Mrs. Couch frowned at her best friend, Hattie Brown.
Livvy put her hand over her mouth and patted back a giggle. She’d been giggling an awful lot lately. Perhaps from outright happiness because there was no doubt in her mind anymore that Charles cared about her. And not just as a friend.
“Now, Vera. That was just plain rude. My idea was not terrible. Just because you don’t like the idea of the young folks playing Spin the Bottle doesn’t make it a bad idea.”
“If we’re knee-deep in snow, you might change your tune. Do you want Carrie Ann to trudge down the road in knee-deep snow?”
At that, every woman in the church exploded with laughter. “Really, Vera. When have we had more than an inch of snow? And that came after Christmas. Don’t be silly.”
Mrs. Couch stood, lips pressed together, and started gathering her things.
Livvy’s mother jumped up and stepped over to the insulted lady. “Now, Vera. Please don’t leave. You know how much we value your input at these planning events. I don’t think we could plan a picnic or festival without your help. And now we also have the dance to plan for.”
“I’m sorry, Vera.” Mrs. Brown stepped over and put her arm around her friend. “Maybe you’re right about Spin the Bottle.”
Mrs. Couch’s eyes softened as she looked at her friend and suddenly she laughed. “No, I’m not. You know why I hate that game.”