Healing Faith (22 page)

"Thank you," I whispered and leaned in to offer him a
small peck on the cheek. He blushed and pulled away before I could
kiss him.

Rules. Right.

"Sorry," I mumbled and pulled away embarrassed.

"Would you like to take a walk? We can talk and
stretch our legs around the yard," he suggested.

Smiling, I nodded and took his hand briefly to stand.
He released me almost as soon as I was standing, motioning for me
to precede him down the stairs. He fell in step beside me when we
reached the grass, walking beside me at a respectable distance.

We made small talk once more. This time I asked about
him. I learned the names of his horses: Magnus, the great black he
used in the field and Molly and Strider, his wagon horses. I
learned about his enjoyment in writing, of which I already knew,
but I smiled and nodded as he spoke about prose and how he would
read some of his mother's books on poetry when he was younger.

It was poetry that made him want to become a faith
leader.

"Do you write a lot?" I asked, hoping that perhaps
there were more sheets of poetry in his house.

"Lately, yes," he whispered and his smile seemed to
blossom. “I am inspired when I read or when I see beauty around
me.”

He tugged at his suspenders at his words, clearly
feeling a little vulnerable at his admission, while my heart
skipped a beat at the thought that I had inspired him that first
night. He moved closer to reach for my hand. I looked around before
taking his hand, the barn blocking our view of the house.

"We have a few minutes to ourselves if anyone were to
be watching," he murmured and stepped a little closer to me,
walking beside me so that our arms touched. His hand trembled
slightly in his loose grip until I held it a little tighter,
offering him some encouragement at his gesture.

The barn offered a little shade on our side, and it
was much cooler as Nathan slowed his pace until we stopped near the
door of the barn at the deepest part of its shadow. He turned and
touched my other hand gently, silently requesting it. I slipped my
fingers through his, the warmth rushing through my body when his
long fingers wrapped around mine.

"May I kiss you, Kate? Like yesterday?" he asked
softly. I felt his hands pull me towards him with a gentle urging.
I swallowed and looked up into his dark eyes. His breath was
heavier and I could see his heart hammering in his chest where his
shirt lay open.

"I would really like to kiss you," he murmured and
leaned in just a bit, keeping enough distance to wait until I
agreed.

I could only nod.

His eyes conveyed the need he had; I could feel it
myself through this energy we shared whenever we touched. I could
see it in the soft pout to his lips as he dipped his head down and
soft breath of my name, and then I was closing my eyes to feel him
against my lips.

A gentle brushing, to reintroduce us to one another,
and the burgeoning heat that built within me grew. He let out a
soft hum and moved his lips against mine with a little more
purpose, having learned from yesterday that taking my bottom lip
into his mouth would cause a trembling in my body. I stretched on
my toes, our joined hands pulled to our sides as I craned my neck
to offer him my mouth willingly.

He moaned when he felt my tongue brush against his
lips, allowing me in with his noise. It was just an explorative
entry, to introduce him to more than just lips. The tip of his
tongue met with mine, curled slightly as if in hesitation. Another
soft noise from him, a moan in my mouth and then I felt his hand
slip up to touch my cheek, feather light fingertips brushing along
my jaw until they stretched to apply gentle pressure along my
neck.

Drawing me closer.

Gently. Asking. Not taking.

It was my turn to moan. He paused in his exploration;
cautious of my sound, but I drew him against me with my hands,
sliding up his back until they found a place along his shoulders. I
pressed myself to him, so that the heat and drumming of his heart
soon pounded through me. His body tensed against mine for an
instant at the contact, before melting and seeming to enfold around
me in a welcome embrace.

One hand along my neck, the other wrapped loosely
across my back, he deepened the kiss and I shivered at the sound of
his groan as he gave in and kissed me with much more enthusiasm.
His breath was labored and his hand along my back flexed between my
shoulder blades, holding me to him. It wasn't until I pressed my
body fully against him that he gasped and pulled away hurriedly,
his face flushed and his eyes clenched shut.

"I am sorry," he gasped, bending over slightly with
his hands on his thighs, propping his body up from falling
over.

"No, I'm sorry, Nathan. I shouldn't have been so
forward. I didn't mean," I stammered, watching as he struggled to
stand up straight. It was obvious that he was struggling to calm
his body.

He shook his head and tried to smile, but through his
breaths it looked a little pained.

"Please do not apologize, Kate. I should not have
asked. I just wanted to kiss you. It is difficult to stop with just
a kiss," he said and chuckled awkwardly at his words.

I smiled down at him and touched him gently on the
cheek, drawing his face up to mine.

"If it matters at all, Nathan, I enjoyed it. Is that
wrong?" I asked and pulled him back to stand.

He shifted before me, his hands immediately tugging
at his suspenders. He was blushing as he regarded me with a shy
smile.

"I would do it again if you would let me," he
whispered, looking at me through his eyelashes.

My heart skipped a beat at his words.

"I would like that, Nathan.”

His smile widened and he leaned forward, allowing
only his lips to touch me, soft and lingering for a moment before
pulling away and letting out a sigh, his eyes closed.

"
Thy lips, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk
are under thy tongue
," he whispered and let his eyes flutter
open. I was completely taken with this man. His mouth, both in how
it moved and what he said to me had me enthralled.

"You are my sustenance, Kate. You feed me with your
kindness and your beauty. I have been blessed with your coming
here," he murmured and stepped close to take my hand in his again.
He leaned in once more, his lips scorching against my forehead as
he pressed them softly there, before letting out a soft sigh.

"We will be missed. We must come from behind this
barn unaffected," he sighed and held me for a moment more.

"I don't think that's possible," I murmured. Nathan
drew away slowly, the color in his face brighter, and his smile
appling up his cheeks a bit. I was sure I suffered the same
effects. There was no way we would be able to re-emerge as we did
before we kissed.

He held my hand quietly as we walked around the barn,
squeezing it lightly before releasing it as the house came into
view. I felt the separation as we walked slowly back up to the
porch, sitting together once more on the swing.

A little closer than before, but still apart.

Those were the rules after all.

But I had a feeling our walks would come often.

We sat for some time into the late afternoon, talking
softly. Nathan read from his mother's Bible. Scriptures of respect
and love. Something of the kindness to strangers and good will. To
be honest I heard very little of what he was saying. I was
entranced by the soft timbre of his voice. Deep and clear, but it
washed over me like a melody of a song. I found that missing my
music was less important to me now.

Hearing his voice as he spoke his words were enough.
Perhaps that was his talent; he could sway an entire congregation.
Because what he spoke of came from his heart, not just his lips.
Regardless of whether I heard all the words, I felt the
meaning.

He was happy to have me here. And he would see that I
remained happy.

In his world.

As he left that night, I could feel the happiness run
through me when he smiled more brightly. He wished me a good night
as he always did. But in the cover of the darkness of the porch
when I walked him out, his kiss was more tender and sure, if only
too brief. I watched his back as it disappeared in the dim
moonlight.

I couldn't wait until morning when I would see him
return.

I wasn't even half way undressed before Emma and
Abigail were chattering at me, asking me the questions I knew would
come.

"What did you talk about?" Emma started and then the
floodgates opened up before I could get a word in.

"Did he ask to see you again?”

“Is he going to keep coming back?”

“What did you do while you walked?”

“Did he kiss you this time? Tell me he was respectful
or I will have to have words with him!”

“He smiled all throughout supper! That is good!”

I was about to admonish them for all the questions
when the bedroom door cracked open and Hannah snuck in, lantern in
hand and in only her shift, her hair braided down her back. I let
out a sigh and hung up my dress.

It seemed it was girls' night tonight.

I had no idea what that meant, in my world or
theirs.

I settled into the corner of my bed and slid out the
Bible Nathan had given me. It was such a meaningful gift; I was
hesitant to show it at first. But Emma's wide eyes and Hannah's
smirk made me think they understood.

"He gave you Aunt Elisabeth's Bible?" Emma
breathed.

I nodded and opened it carefully, smiling at the
thought that just a few hours ago, Nathan had held this in his
hands, reading it to me. As I thumbed through the pages, a small
piece of paper fell out.

I wasn't fast enough to grab it; it was in Hannah's
hands before I could even make a noise. I recognized the paper for
the same that Nathan had written on before, for my poem. Hannah
opened the tidy folded piece of paper carefully and her eyes
widened at the lettering on the page.

"What does it say?" Abigail asked excitedly, covering
her mouth at the loudness of her voice.

Hannah held it for only a moment, a blush rising
across her cheeks before she grinned and passed it over to me
finally.

"I am sorry," she whispered. "I could not resist. But
it is for your eyes only unless you choose to share."

I took the paper from her hands slowly, my heart
hammering at the idea that she had read his poem he had written me
the other night. I knew she didn't mean to be rude, but I had
wanted to keep that part of him secret.

"It's all right, Hannah," I murmured and then my
smile faltered when I read the first lines.

So much beauty in your being,

Surely you are an angel sent down to me.

I blinked and let out a gasp at the words.

"It's another poem," I breathed.

"Another?" they asked in unison, excitement clear in
their voices. I blushed and dragged my eyes away from the poem I
desperately wanted to read now.

"He wrote something a few days ago. I saw it on his
desk when I cleaned the other day," I explained nervously. I was
not sure what they would say about my snooping around his personal
things.

"Katherine! Do not leave us in suspense! Read what he
wrote!" Emma whispered urgently.

"Emma, this is private," Hannah admonished.

"You read it," Abigail whined.

"All right!" I said to end the arguing. "I'll read it
out loud just so I can read it too!"

Abigail bounced a little on the bed and clasped her
hands together in glee. Hannah merely let out an exaggerated sigh
and lay down on her side at the foot of the bed, Emma joining her
with bright eyes. I swallowed and cleared my throat, knowing my
voice would do nothing for his beautiful words.

“
So much beauty in your being,

Surely you are an angel sent down to me.

Such warm eyes as you regard me,

Surely to draw me into your pure heart.

Such sweetness in your voice,

Surely must be Heaven made.

Such a tender embrace,

Surely to offer me His strength in your arms.

Such soft lips,

Surely offering God's love.

Such kindness,

Surely to remind me be true.

Such luck I have at Heaven sitting beside me,

Surely to assure me of my Earthly duties as a
man.

Such amazing beauty,

I see in you.

Kate.”

I read it again silently, a great smile tugging on my
lips as I read his words.

He had written me another poem.

He had grinned at me knowingly that afternoon when I
asked how much he had written, knowing he had slipped this into his
mother's Bible. I sighed and looked up from the paper, into Emma's
dreamy stare. She hummed and closed her eyes and nodded.

"He is writing again," she whispered happily and
flopped back against the headboard.

I looked at her askance.

"Nathan wrote the most beautiful words for Sermons
before," Hannah explained. Her sad smile told me when he had
stopped writing.

His family's death had changed so much about him.

It made my heart soar that I could bring him a little
happiness back.

"Katherine," Hannah whispered, pulling me out of my
pleasant daze. I looked up into her contemplative eyes.

"He has written you prose. He has given you his
mother's Bible. You must understand this is serious," she
whispered, Emma and Abigail nodding beside her.

I swallowed and looked down at the paper once more,
at Nathan's clean script and meaningful words. I knew it was
serious. I could feel it in my bones. The conversation with Hannah
flitted through my head again.

He is intent on making you his wife.

Very serious.

Is that what I wanted?

I had only known him a few days, how would I know
that?