Page 126 of Charlotte

In the open.

His gaze dropped to her mouth.

Lottie did not move.

If he kissed her now, she would let him. The knowledge went through her like flame. Cecil drew a breath, and his hand tightened around hers.

Then Mrs. Schulte’s voice rang from the road. “Miss Bellamy! The donation table has been compromised by decorative excess!”

Lottie closed her eyes.

Cecil made a sound that might have been pain or laughter.

“Decorative excess,” he repeated.

“It is a recurring danger.”

“I see.”

Lottie opened her eyes. “You were about to kiss me.”

“Yes.”

The plainness of it nearly knocked the breath out of her.

She swallowed. “Now?”

His gaze held hers. “Now I remember I have not yet earned the right to do it in daylight.”

She could have argued. Wanted to argue. Instead, she squeezed his hand once and then let go.

“Then earn it.”

His face changed at that. Not dramatically. Not all at once. Something in him straightened, as if the words had given him both burden and direction.

Mrs. Schulte called again, more urgently.

Lottie stepped back. “I have to rescue the donation table.”

“I know.”

“Are you coming to the meeting hall?”

“Yes.”

The answer was immediate.

Hope rose so quickly she had to look away.

“Good.”

“Lottie.”

She looked back.

He held her gaze in the bright Sabbath morning. “I do not know the way forward yet.”

“No one asked you for the whole road today.”