He sat, quietly holding her. She looked up at him only to find his gaze had grown distant. “What if they won’t believe that?”
“What if they will?”
A clap of thunder shook the air. It startled Lydia awake, sending her immediately into sobs. Natural as anything, Patrick picked her up and rocked her, cooing soothingly. Eliza looked to the windows. No rain pelted the glass.
“I think we’d best head back to Archers’ so we don’t get caught in the rain.”
“Aye. That’d be wise.” He stood and held his hand out to her.
She accepted the offer and got to her feet as well. They were all three soon bundled and following the river in the wrenching wind. Patrick pulled his coat around Lydia, shielding her against the onslaught.
“You’ll both need warmer coats before winter.” He spoke loudly enough to be heard over the cry of the wind as they approached the Archer home.
“And she’ll need shoes,” Eliza said. “Perhaps I would do best to abandon my idea of an inn and simply be grateful I have income as a housekeeper.” She stepped up onto the porch and took Lydia from him. “Some dreams are just too grand to hold on to forever.”
He stepped up with her, standing close enough for his ice-blue eyes to be visible even in the dark of approaching night. “The grandest of dreams don’t die, Eliza. Don’t let them go yet.”
“It’s difficult to hold on to things that feel impossible,” she said.
His arm slowly wrapped around her waist and pulled her close to him. “Perhaps you’re not holding on in the right way.”
Her pulse, pounding in her neck, grew loud enough to drown out the howling wind. “You know the right way, do you?”
He lowered his voice. “I’m beginning to sort it out.”
She breathed slowly, tensely. Prickles tiptoed over every inch of her. “I’m getting an inkling, myself,” she whispered.
She could feel the warmth of him so nearby, could hear every breath he took.
“Does this feel impossible to you?” he asked, his lips a mere inch from hers.
“It feels perfect.”
In the very next moment, wagon wheels sounded in the darkness. As quickly as it had begun, the spell between them was broken.
He took a step back. “Thank you for letting me spill my secrets.”
“And me mine. It’s good to feel like I really know you. Finally.”
He stepped off the porch. “Good night, Eliza,” he said. Then he disappeared into the night.
