Unlatching the screen door, Grace pushed it open a few inches. “Come in.” She stepped back. To give him room or to keep her distance? She didn’t meet his gaze, but offered her living room with a tense gesture. The sofa was pale turquoise with yellow pillows. She’d hung up the hand-lettered artwork, which he now recognized as a quote from Psalms, and the pictures of Jesus.
Where two or three gather together as my followers, I am there.
“Please. Sit.” Grace’s voice trembled slightly. She cleared her throat. “I’ll make some coffee.”
Roman felt as much at home in this house as the cottage. It wasn’t the furnishings or decorations. It was Grace. Instead of sitting, Roman followed her and stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her. The faint flush in her cheeks had disappeared. She was pale now. Was she afraid of him? He hoped not. She almost dropped the canister and gave him an embarrassed glance. He didn’t have to ask if he was making her nervous, and he didn’t want her to be. How much of what he felt showed in his face? Too much, apparently. He had to stop drinking in the sight of her.
Take it slow and easy, Chet had said. But not too slow, according to Susan.
Roman tossed all his experience with women. None of it applied. If he didn’t say something soon, he’d have another heart attack. He smiled at her, hoping to get them both over a rough start. “I’ve missed your coffee.” He could stand all day and watch her. She was more beautiful to him than anything he’d ever seen. But she might relax if he looked at something else.
The view from the kitchen window showed a large lawn and vegetable garden. “Nice place for Samuel to play.” Grace said yes. She took an unsteady breath as she spooned coffee. Then she started to talk. She told him about Dorothy and George Gerling, her landlords, and Juan and Angela Martinez and their three children who lived right next door. Juan planted the vegetable garden, and Angela gave her parenting tips, and little Matías was Samuel’s first good buddy. She was rambling, a sign she was still nervous. He noticed she’d filled the coffee filter to the brim. She uttered a soft gasp and spooned coffee grounds back into the canister.
Roman wanted to put his arms around her and say, It’s okay, Grace. I’m just as scared as you are. He tried to relax, but his pulse galloped, his breath high and tight. He breathed in and out slowly before he spoke. “Where’s Samuel?”
“He’s down for a nap.” Grace barely glanced at him, her attention caught by something on the kitchen table. Roman looked down at a blue-trimmed plate, and understood. There were the things she’d gathered on their road trip: five smooth stones, a pinecone, and a pair of acorns linked together by a single twig.
Picking up the acorns carefully, Roman held them in the palm of his hand. “You didn’t throw them away.”
Blushing, Grace turned her back. “Why don’t we sit in the living room?” She filled two mugs with coffee and left him standing alone in the kitchen. Roman replaced the acorns on the plate. Strange how something so small and ordinary could fill him with so much hope.
Grace occupied the rocking chair, leaving him the whole sofa. She held her mug cupped tightly in both hands, a talisman. His was on the coffee table, a sizable barrier between them. He sat, but didn’t touch the mug. He hadn’t come for coffee.
“I came to apologize, Grace.” Something he’d never done before. “I didn’t treat you with the respect you deserved, and I’m sorry for that.” Pressing his palms together between his knees, he leaned forward, sending up a shotgun prayer. God, help me. “I was afraid to tell you how I felt about you.” She looked away, and he held off saying the rest, waiting for her to face him again before he went on. “I was in love with you then, and I’m in love with you now.” He’d never said those words to anyone and he saw the walls going up.
“I don’t want that kind of love, Roman.”
“I’m not finished.”
Lips parting, Grace’s eyes filled. She almost spilled her coffee. “I’m not sure I can listen.”
“Please?”
Setting the mug on a small lampstand table, Grace put her hands on her thighs before she looked at him in anguish. “Why did you come, Roman?”
“I laid out my fleece, and God said yes.” Why should she believe him? Just say the rest, Roman. “I came to ask you to marry me.”
“What?” She drew back, shocked.
“You heard me.” He knew what he was asking. Brian had given him a copy of the standard wedding vows once. Roman had some sense of the depth of commitment it would take for a relationship to last for the long haul, through all the challenges life would throw at them, not to mention the issues and personality traits they would each bring along. He knew it wouldn’t be easy for either of them. God knew what childhood issues and adult issues they had. Even with all that, they had God’s promises to stand on. Nothing is impossible for God. “Just to be clear, Grace, I want to love, honor, and cherish you for as long as we both live.”