Hope Between the Pages by Pepper Basham (ebook reader for surface pro .txt) 📕

closer to Granny than Camden House, because that’s where you’ll find companionship and encouragement while I’m away.” He tossed a look over his shoulder toward the house, his gaze examining the sight as if attempting to memorize it.

“I’m sorry, Oliver.”

“No.” He shook his head and brought my hand to his lips. “My home and my heart are right where they want to be.” The carriage came to a stop and he helped me inside before joining me, drawing close, touching my face. “Promise me you won’t let her words poison you. I made my choice with my eyes wide open. I love you, and I wouldn’t change one moment.”

I leaned into the warmth of his palm against my cheek. “I love you too.”

Quiet swelled between us. My heart knotted with a thousand emotions, stealing my voice. Separation loomed on the horizon, distance, and an uncertain future.

I had lived nineteen years of my life without him and after nearly three weeks as his bride, he somehow took up my whole world. Every favorite memory involved him, even Biltmore held so much of him in my thoughts, that it was easy to imagine we’d known each other much longer than we actually had.

We did not speak until we’d made it inside our little castle. He helped me remove my cloak and I his coat, each action somehow more precious and tender than the day before. Then he sat beside me in our little sitting room, grasped both my hands, and drew them to his lips, pressing for seconds upon seconds. When he finally raised his gaze to mine, my heart nearly broke all over again at the sight of tears in his eyes. “How can I leave you, my darling Sadie?”

My entire body stiffened against the conversation we’d avoided for days. Whispers of it had been in our comments and actions, but speaking the words somehow gave power to the reality. I’d not been afraid until now. Our little world—our fairy tale—was supposed to stay as it was for ever after, but the cold world of war crept into the story, and we had to turn the page.

“Sadie.” His whisper warmed my cheek, and I squeezed my eyes closed to stay the tears. “Promise me something.”

My brow pinched from the strain to beg him to be silent. To not speak. Instead, I smoothed my cheek against his, breathing in vanilla and soap. “Anything, Oliver.”

He framed my face with his palms and held my gaze, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “If the worst happens—”

“Oliver, I can’t—”

“Promise me you’ll keep our dream, if you can.” He nodded, smiling through the tears. “We already have the shop. It just waits for the shopkeepers.”

“Both of us.”

He shook his head. “But it will be both of us, even if it is only you, because we’re a part of one another. Like you said to my mother. No matter what happens, you can make this dream come true, my darling.”

I shook my head and looked down at my lap, tears staining my gown like raindrops.

“Sadie, don’t waste your grief.”

My head came up. “How can my grief be wasted? I would grieve for you because I love you.”

“But grief is a tricky thing. Don’t let it steal your life.” He wiped a tear from my cheek and smiled down at me with such tenderness, tears doubled their efforts. “You are made of amazing stuff, enough to make any dream come true, enough heart to change the world around you. You’ve certainly changed mine.”

“Then come back to me when all this is over.” I cupped his face, holding his gaze, begging for a promise he couldn’t make. “Live this life with me. Join me in our future. Whatever happens, come back to me.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips but did not answer.

Long into the night, I clung to him, replaying his words, his touch, his pulse in my ear as I lay my head against his chest. I knew this moment had to come. The jarring reality within the fairy tale. I clung to the hope that God had many more chapters yet to write of our story …and prayed for the strength to dream beyond tomorrow.

Chapter 22

The consistent beep of the heart monitor pulsed through the quiet room, each beat a reminder that Clara’s mom was alive for another day. In fact, the doctors had given both Clara and her mother the good news that Mom appeared to be improving. Clara rubbed her tired eyes and tried to focus on the email Maggie had just sent from England. Cousin Margaret. Clara almost grinned at the thought of the wiry woman and her passionate personality…and of the fact Clara had an entire family an ocean away still waiting to meet her.

Maggie’s emails had been consistent, and sometimes funny, especially as she explained having to ask her daughter how to add attachments to emails, which eventually came through…upside down.

“It’s good to see that smile.”

Clara looked up from her phone to find her mother awake, the tender expression on her face nearly unraveling Clara’s composure all over again. Robbie had been by a few times to check on them, but otherwise, Clara had spent way too much time alone with her anxious thoughts and her frail mother. Not the best combination for dry tear ducts.

“Yours too.” Clara unwound her sore body from the chair and scooted closer to the bed. “I was just reading over an email Maggie sent to me.”

Mom’s cheeks creased with her widening grin. “Maggie, your newfound cousin, isn’t it?”

Clara offered a tired chuckle. “Yes, along with who knows how many more I’ve never met.” She returned her phone to her pocket and reached for her mom’s hand. “Maggie said she contacted her solicitor and he has a few more things to deliver to Max and Gillie later this week that might be helpful with the bookshop.”

“I have a feeling Max will get those items to you lickety-split.”

Clara narrowed her eyes at her