Page 15 of The Heart of Bennet Hollow

Lizbeth. Sister to the young woman who was consuming all of Callum’s focus.

Lizbeth gripped a book in both hands, holding it close to her nose as though to see both the text and the road.

She turned a page, walked several more paces and closed the cover.

The end perhaps? She slipped the small text into a skirt pocket that may have cradled her beloved books many times by the way she’d described her reading habits.

Her long skirt flounced around her laced-up boots, and the sweater she wore boasted as many autumn shades as the trees in the distance.

She was following the road that wound through town, away from the store and post office, when a wagon passed in the opposite direction. A man and woman shared the seat, along with a babe in arms who lifted a knitted blanket into the air. The blanket caught the wind and tumbled to the road.

As the wagon slowed, William stood watching.

Lizbeth reached for the blanket. Her skirt spun as she did, every fold and ripple catching the light along with her loose hair.

Wind worked to pull the blanket farther down the road, but Lizbeth was quicker.

A bright and willful determination. Despite himself, William felt his chest tighten at the sight of her.

She shook off the dust with care then held up the offering to the babe.

The child took it with flapping, happy hands.

A quaint picture of family. Of kindness and generosity.

Of a thoughtful act between one neighbor and another.

That’s what people did in these parts.

Ever studious of the world around him, William was more absorbed than he wanted to admit.

More enchanted than his aunt would ever condone, William took the chance to gaze at Lizbeth.

Any longer and he may as well kiss his inheritance goodbye.

While he could handle the loss, it could cost him in other, unexpected ways.

Lizbeth turned back along her way. While William could never hear the sound over the din of the depot, he wondered if she wasn’t humming as she walked, so light were her steps.

What he could hear, though, was the memory of Lizbeth’s voice in his mind as she described her love of reading.

How the books in this mining town cost two pennies to borrow. Pennies she lacked.

As for him?

William stepped back and surveyed the shelves.

They held over a hundred novels and nearly as many informational texts on every subject from botany to politics.

Books he’d collected on his travels, many bought in New York and Boston.

From prestigious to entertaining. Titles these young women would never hold for they weren’t the type to be sold in any Montgomery Ward catalog.

He even had an entire collection of poetry that offered sunlight to the soul.

The type of sunlight that he sensed the lass on the lane would be enchanted with.

William caught his reflection in the window. His face was stony, but his heart was coming to life. Cracks formed around the edges of his resolve and for the first time, he didn’t know how to patch over the vulnerability.

Breaking his stance at the window, he returned to the dining room, tugged his napkin from the chair, and sat before dropping it on his knee. Callum’s glance seemed more puzzled than pointed. He said nothing as William poured all his focus onto the meal.

“Go ahead and invite them again,” William finally mumbled. A kindness as seemed right. “We might as well be neighborly like those around us.”

Callum looked surprised. “The Bennets?”

Aunt Catherine somehow glared down from her portrait now. William angled his shoulder to ignore the stare. “To see the library. I know I put a damper on your earlier offer and I apologize. They’d be welcome to come and borrow any books they like.”

“Name the day!”

“Next Saturday? If you’ll still be here.”

“I’ll leave just after.” Vulnerability ran rampant in Callum’s gaze.

God spare the poor chap, but William didn’t know how to hinder his comrade anymore.

In fact, he was starting to understand Callum’s lapse in judgement.

“Make the offer as warm as you like.” He gave what he knew was a rare smile.

“I’ll have Cook set out a pot of tea. To be polite. ”

Callum rose, nearly tipping his chair back. “Wonderful! Shall I go tell them now?”

“Perhaps not exactly now.” William waited as Callum sat again. “You’ll see them soon at church.” He placed the suggestion gently to guide his friend. When it came to matters of the heart, Callum wore every hope on his sleeve, displayed for the world to see.

As for William’s heart, it remained buried so deep that even he didn’t understand its contents.

The invitation was simply for a few amiable neighbors and an afternoon of books.

That’s if they even chose to linger. There could be no harm in that.

The Bennets might very well wish to leave shortly after pleasantries and a sip or two of Earl Grey with a few novels in hand.

An outcome that would serve them all for the best.

Neighborly , he reminded himself. As was polite.

There’d be time enough to sort out any other notions that flitted through his mind—and worse, his heart.

Time enough to sort through those sensations when the residents of Bennet Hollow were a forgotten memory and William could set his world in order once again.

For today, he meant to offer his friend a chance.

At happiness? William didn’t know, but only a fool could discount the appreciation in the man’s countenance.

Sitting again, Callum gulped. “Right. Church. I’ll have to think of what to say.”

“Yes, you do that.” Reaching around the side of the table, William gave a firm pat to his shoulder. “For the both of us.”