Page 44 of Charlotte

Delly looked up sharply. “Not all books.”

Lottie amended, “All suitable books.”

“That is better.”

Peterson looked at the empty shelf. “You’ll fill it before supper.”

“I hope so.”

He turned toward the tables. “Then choose what goes first.”

The invitation was so unexpected Lottie only stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You think I should choose?”

“It’s your library.”

The words were blunt. Almost careless.

They struck deeper than they should have.

No one corrected him. Not Cornelia. Not Delly. Not Mrs. Schulte, who had slipped into the doorway and opened her mouth as if ready to organize the moment, then closed it again.

Your library.

Lottie looked at the newly fastened shelf, at the books waiting in careful stacks, at the man who had come for nails and stayed to build the first place where her hope could stand.

She chose the Bible first.

Not because the church required it or the Bees would approve, though both were true. She chose it because if the shelf was to begin anything, it ought to begin with the Word that had steadied people long before Wild Rose Ridge had a name.

Then she placed the child’s primer beside it.

“Because little ones should not have to reach far for beginnings,” she said.

Peterson’s gaze moved to her face.

She pretended not to notice and chose the botany volume next.

“For what grows here.”

Cornelia nodded.

Then The Moonstone, because a library needed at least one mystery to keep it from becoming too respectable. Dickens came next. Shakespeare followed, though Delly insisted he be set far enough from the edge that no unsuspecting child could pull him down by accident.

At last, only the Tennyson remained in Lottie’s hands.

Peterson had stepped back by then. His hat was in his left hand again. His right hand had vanished into his coat. He had done his part and was already preparing to leave before gratitude could catch him.

Lottie turned the slim volume once in her hands.

Then she held it out.

Not toward his hidden hand. Only between them, with room for him to choose.

“I saved this one,” she said.