Hope Rekindled Read Free

figure and stylish attire. Just seeing her stirred his blood. He longed to pull her into his arms and spend the rest of his life in her presence.
    “You look spent,” Euphanel Vandermark told him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t just as soon spend the night here? You are welcome to sleep in Arjan’s old cabin.”
    Christopher was more than a little tempted. He suppressed a yawn. “No. I need to head back to town. I’m trying to inventory everything for Stuart Albright. He wants a complete list by Monday, and I figured all week to devote Saturday to it. If I stay here tonight, I won’t want to leave in the morning.”
    Euphanel smiled. “Just another week—and then you two will have the rest of your lives together.”
    He nodded. “I hadn’t known a week could last so long.”
    Arjan moved to Euphanel’s side and put his arm around her shoulder. “We’d best let these two say their good-nights, Wife.”
    She smiled up at him and nodded. “I suppose so. Be careful on your ride home, Christopher. I wouldn’t want anything happening to you.”
    He chuckled. “If I get hurt, I understand there is a fine woman doctor in these parts. Well, I suppose she’s not a full-fledged doctor . . . yet,” he said loud enough to catch Deborah’s attention, “but I understand she’s quite capable.”
    “That she is,” Euphanel said with a quick glance over her shoulder. “That she is.”
    Christopher waited until Euphanel and Arjan had gone before approaching Deborah. He pulled her into his arms without warning and captured her lips in a lingering kiss. Deborah melted against him and sighed. Just another week and she’d be his. A few more days. Part of him longed to change his mind and stay the night—if only to be that much closer to her.
    He felt Deborah’s fingers on the nape of his neck toying with his hair. He would have to get a trim before the wedding, he thought. He touched the soft skin just under her ear and thought of what it would be like to place kisses there.
    Pulling away, he grinned like a mischievous child. Deborah arched a brow in question, but he only laughed and dropped his hold. “One week, Miss Vandermark. A week from tomorrow—you will be mine.”
    “Why did we decide to wait so long?” she asked with a pout.
    He roared with laughter. “The date was your idea. As I recall you wanted spring flowers and warmer weather.” He walked to the door and lifted his hat from a nearby peg. “I would have married you last fall without flowers or warm weather. I would have married you during the awful cold months of the winter when all of the plains states were buried in snows and hideous cold. I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d just say the word.”
    For just a moment, he thought she looked tempted. Then she squared her shoulders and stepped forward. “Good evening to you, Dr. Kelleher. I will see you in one week, at which time I will say the only words necessary to seal our arrangement. Until then, enjoy your inventory.”
    He shook his head. “You’re a cruel woman.”
    She gave him a wink. “I promise to make it up to you.”

D eborah stood on a dining room chair while her mother and Sissy pinned a hem in the white silk of her wedding gown.
    “I can hardly believe it’s the same dress,” Mother declared. “I remember when the huge hooped skirts were all the fashion, and now this.” She motioned to the straighter sleek lines of the gown.
    “It was made good,” Sissy commented. “Easy ’nuf to work with quality.”
    “I’m still amazed. It looks so much like the one in the magazine,” Deborah commented, gazing down at the delicate silk.
    The original gown had been skirted with three tiers of lace flouncing over white China silk. Mother and Sissy had crafted those flounces into a waterfall draping the bustled back. They modified the belled skirt to fit with the fashion of the day, which gave women a sleeker, more slender appearance—at least in the front. The back was another story.