Page 103 of Charlotte

The words settled gently between them.

Lottie unfolded Cecil’s drawing and laid it on the table. Together, the sisters bent over the plan for the library beside the schoolhouse. Lottie showed her the front windows, the lending desk, the stove, the shelves. She showed her the corner where he had written C. Peterson and told her how he had given her the name.

Delly listened. Really listened.

It felt so new Lottie had to stop twice and swallow.

When she finished, Delly touched one finger to the drawing, not over his name but near the desk.

“He placed you in the light,” she said.

Lottie looked down at the little square marked lending desk. Afternoon light would fall there. She had noticed it before, but not in those words.

“Yes,” she said softly. “He did.”

A sound came from the porch.

Both sisters looked toward the door.

For a moment, Lottie thought she saw the faint movement of a shadow beyond the lamplight. Then the porch board creaked, and footsteps retreated down the side steps.

“Someone was there,” Delly said.

Lottie crossed to the door and looked out. The yard lay empty. The path toward Main Street was dim. Farther off, where the road bent toward the camp, a man’s figure might have moved between the trees.

Or perhaps it was only dusk and her own hopeful heart making shapes where there were none.

“Who was it?” Delly asked.

“I don’t know.”

Lottie stood in the doorway a moment longer, listening.

No voice called back.

No one returned.

At last, she closed the door and came back to the table. The drawing still lay between them, the little library waiting in pencil and hope. Delly rested her hand near Lottie’s.

“If it was him,” Delly said carefully, “what would you want him to have heard?”

Lottie looked down at the plan, the shelves, the windows and at the small, careful C. before his surname.

“The truth,” she said.

Her sister nodded once.

Lottie folded the drawing and held it close.

She hoped the truth would not frighten him away.

She was learning love could not be made safe by hiding it.

Chapter Fifteen

June 30, 1886 — The Meeting Hall

The dance practice was one of the Busy Bees’ ideas.