H ow Clara had missed the sound of the ocean roaring and receding with the tides. If only she could see how the sun glinted off the curled tips of the rolling waves. These weeks had been the sweetest she’d ever known.

To be fully loved regardless of her disability had only added to the overflow of emotion—that God loved her for her blindness and Daniel in spite of it.

She breathed in the sea air, one last time. The first week of April had been warmer than usual, Daniel said. They’d walked the beach, collected shells, and snuggled by the fire, the two of them together.

He’d taught her how to cook a few dishes. Read to her for hours each day—the book he’d began months ago. But it was time to go back to Kentucky and finish what they’d started.

He helped her into the hack and began the journey home.

A day later, they stood on the train platform in Harrodsburg. Tired, yet fortified by their marriage. Clara didn’t tremble like she used to. She was stronger. So much stronger.

“YOU RASCAL.” MR. STANTON swore. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Stealing my daughter from under my nose, huh?”

Hardly under his nose with the family an ocean away. Daniel had prayed, even braced himself. Mr. Stanton could be daunting. “I assure you, I didn’t steal her. ”

Clara piped up. “Everything was proper, Father.”

“Sure about that?”

Clara turned away from his voice. Mr. Stanton smoked his cigar regardless of his daughter’s presence. Odious man. This interview wore on his bride, but she did not tremble. He released her hand and fished for the marriage certificate in his pocket when Mr. Stanton burst with laughter.

He waved the paper away. “Can’t take a joke, Reverend? Naw, I wouldn’t take her away from you. You’re stuck with her, you know. I rather hoped some fool wouldn’t be able to resist her beauty.”

“Father.” Clara fumed, her voice a sharp pin.

“Clara, dear. I only jest. Why don’t you see what Jenny has for you in the kitchen while I speak privately with your Reverend. I mean husband.”

Daniel watched his sweet wife falter. “I’ll come get you when we are finished.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring pat.

Clara put out a hand and traced her fingers along the groves in the wainscoting. Finding her own way.

“Now, Reverend, have a seat.”

Daniel sat, wary of where the conversation might lead, and how much trouble he might find himself in.

“I expect you’ll be wanting Clara’s dowry.”

Daniel’s head snapped to look Mr. Stanton in the eye.

“Don’t get all self-righteous at me and say that you didn’t marry her for money and all that. You know as well as I do a preacher’s gotta live as well as any man, and dress like he’s ready to socialize.”

Daniel shook his head. “Sir, I—”

Mr. Stanton handed him and envelope. “It’s not the full amount. Granted, I took a good portion for Lucy and Alice, since they’re likely to make better matches, no offense.”

Daniel grudgingly took the envelope, needing to play the part. “Clara isn’t damaged goods, you know. ”

“Look. You married a blind woman. I don’t know how you two are going to manage, but that’s not any of my business.

” He leaned in, his eyes twinkling. “I’m just relieved she’s off my hands.

What with preparing for Lucy and Mr. Grant’s wedding.

No, don’t look at me like that. One day when you have daughters to marry off, you’ll understand the difficulties I’ve faced. ”

Daniel reserved his words. No point in heating up the man. Now that the conversation was on the down-side.

“Take the money and buy yourself a rig.”

He pocketed the funds. They wouldn’t keep it. No. He grinned. This money would go towards more noble things.

“Darn shame what happened about the slave—Morrie, was it?”

Daniel stopped cold. They hadn’t told him yet. He swallowed.

“Clara must have been terrified. Ramshaw showed me the grave herself. Can’t figure why the old woman would want the girl buried in her back yard, small as it is.”

They’d seen Mrs. Ramshaw as soon as they’d arrived. She’d said nothing about this. Had she told Mr. Stanton a lie?

Daniel couldn’t bring himself to correct him.

“What say you? Let Clara have any pick of the slaves, just one mind, you, as a wedding gift?”

Gracious, merciful Father.

“Thank you, Sir.” Nothing more need be said.

DANIEL AND CLARA RODE the Stanton carriage back to town, to the parsonage. A young girl, nearly thirteen-years-old, hopped down from the top seat onto the dusty road. Her feet were bare and her eyes large and sad.

Jenny had whispered a name into Clara’s ear.

Lewis had loaded some of Clara’s old belongings into the back of the wagon and pled with her in hushed tones.

“My girl.” He’d said. “Be good to my girl.” His voice had quaked.

As though he knew the hard path to freedom his girl would take.

As though he wondered if he’d see her again on this side of heaven.

Mrs. Ramshaw had been pacing his kitchen all afternoon, awaiting their return. “What did he say? Does he suspect?”

Daniel removed his gloves and tossed his hat to the table. “Did you lie to him about Morrie?”

She looked at him in wonder, her eyes shimmering. “That man. He never really listens.” She shook her head. “Jenny muttered something about a baby and pointed to the grave.” She huffed. “And that is all that was said.”

Clara removed her bonnet, no doubt as bone weary as he. They hadn’t stopped to rest. Both, anxious to get the first meeting over with. “He made an assumption?”

Mrs. Ramshaw uncovered a plate of biscuits and ham and set a jug of tea on the table. “Seemed a mite relieved, he did. I reckon your mother doesn’t fancy seeing his lookalikes running around the farm.”

“She’d be mortified if she knew.” Clara sank into the chair next to him.

Were people forever a moveable chess piece, each one, a pawn to strike and power to gain?

He wondered what it was like for Clara’s mother.

To be chosen as an asset rather than for love.

To raise her daughters to fulfill the same twisted idea. ..

Daniel took a bite of ham biscuit. “Where is Francine?”

“Didn’t I tell you? She left for New York a day before you arrived home. Said she couldn’t stay away a moment longer. A letter came for her—from a Mr. Crawley. Must’ve made her right happy. Mind you, I don’t approve of single women traveling alone.”

CLARA FELT AROUND THE new surroundings—it would take a week or so to get her bearings. Meanwhile, she used the walking stick Daniel had carved for her to get around. Where was he ?

He caught her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. “Not so fast, dear.” He kissed her ear, her cheeks, her lips. I have a wedding present for you.”

“You?”

“Indeed, I do.”

Wedding presents had poured in when they’d returned. Mrs. Ramshaw had whispered among the ladies of their tender romance. The pair had the entire town swooning. Cakes and food had arrived first, then a bevy of gifts. “We’ve enough doilies to cover every solid surface of this place.”

“Come with me.” Daniel took her hand in his and led her to the front door and outside and placed both of her hands on warm flesh. A hoof stamped the ground, a gentle neigh greeted her ears. “Your horse, my love. Here’s Esther. She’s yours again.”

Clara leaned her head against the beast’s warm neck and sobbed, stroking the creature with loving hands. How her soul had longed for another run! One more chance to feel the earth speed past. One more chance to run with the wind. For a time all had gone dark. But then, light appeared.

She couldn’t stop weeping. She turned from her horse and buried herself in Daniel’s chest. “Thank you. Thank you.”

He heaved a great breath. Did he weep too?

She pulled away from his chest and wiped her eyes with his handkerchief.

She blinked. Something... She blinked again.

No. Yes, something was there. Before her face.

Buttons. Shirt buttons. Her fingers touched them.

Her own hand, touching her husband’s buttons. But more than that...much more.

“Daniel...” Her voice rasped.

“My love?”

“I can see.” Blurred lines cleared. A hint of blackness remained around the edges of her left eye, but the right one cleared.. .

He cupped his hands around her face and drew her chin up. To see him. “ Clara! ”

Her beloved stroked her cheek. Tears blurred her vision again. She swiped them away. My, he was handsome. Exactly as she’d imagined.

“ Clara! ”

“AND JESUS STOOD STILL , and called them, and said, what will ye that I shall do unto you? They said unto him, Lord, that our eyes may be opened...” Matthew 20:32-33