Chapter 4

The following Sunday, Sam marched confidently into the church and took a seat in the pew directly behind Emma’s mother and brothers. When the reverend directed the congregation to greet their church family, Louisa’s eyebrows climbed at Sam’s strong grip and too-wide grin.

After service, he went to stand beneath a flourishing hickory tree as Emma and her parents said their Sunday farewells.

When Emma started down the church steps, leaving her family behind, he straightened his back and walked boldly toward her.

“Good morning to you, Miss Emma.”

Emma blushed. “And to you, Mr. . . . um.”

“Sam. Sam Elliott.” He extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Elliott.”

“Likewise,” Sam said. “Have a blessed day.” And with that, he turned and abruptly walked off, leaving Emma frowning.

“Now that was strange,” she mumbled to herself.

* * *

Strange, but deliberate.

Sam knew he couldn’t come at Emma full-on. He had to plant a seed and wait for it to sprout.

The following Sunday, when service was over, Sam joined the line of congregants. When he reached Emma, he barely glanced at her as he took her hand into his, wished her a blessed day, and then fled. Sam did this for three consecutive weeks. The fourth week, he didn’t attend church service at all.

By Tuesday, word reached him that the reverend’s daughter was asking around town about him.

“Yeah, what she asking?”

“Who your people. Where you live. What you do.”

“Is that right?”

On the fifth Sunday, Sam arrived at the church early enough to snag a seat in the front pew. When Emma looked up from the organ keys and spotted his smiling face, she became all thumbs. Flustered, she stumbled clumsily through the last scale of “All God’s Chillun Got Wings,” garnering annoyed glances from Lucille and other members of the choir.

After service, Emma took her place in the receiving line alongside her mother, distractedly greeting parishioners as she searched for Sam’s brown face.

But that Sunday, Sam wasn’t in the line. He was across the street, secretly watching her.

Afterward, he trailed Emma and Lucille to Schlesinger’s Confectionary, a place popular with the young after-church crowd. When Emma and Lucille exited the store, each holding a waffle cone piled high with vanilla ice cream, Sam finally made himself known by sidling up alongside the pair and offering a sunny, “Good day, ladies.”

Emma’s face brightened. “Good day to you too,” she called back to him as he passed.

“He the one?” Lucille asked.

Emma’s face warmed. “Yes!”