His hand trembled slightly.
Then he wrote:
But if you want me, I would like to marry you.
Rosalie laughed through tears.
She pointed toward their cabin.
“We are already married.”
Gideon read her lips.
He nodded.
Then wrote:
That marriage was chosen by everyone except you.
His eyes held hers.
I want one chosen by you.
Rosalie could not see the notebook clearly anymore.
She wiped her cheeks.
Then took the pencil.
Gideon watched.
She wrote only one word.
Yes.
He stared at it.
Rosalie underlined it.
YES.
Gideon smiled.
Not the small uncertain smile from their first week.
A full smile.
Warm and astonished and almost boyish.
Rosalie leaned forward and kissed him.
This time there was no minister instructing them.
No father waiting for money.
No brother arranging debts.
No town whispering.
Only Rosalie.
Only Gideon.
Only choice.
When they separated, Gideon touched his forehead to hers.
