CHAPTER
11
He loved her. Benjamin Porter—handsome, kind, godly, and infinitely patient Benjamin Porter loved her. It took the entire ride back to Harper’s Station for Tori to accept that such a miracle might have actually occurred. She probably wouldn’t have believed it at all if she hadn’t met Frannie Crowley and seen with her own eyes the amazing goodness God had wrought from a situation instigated by evil. If the Lord could create a loving marriage for Jed and Frannie, maybe . . . just maybe . . . he could do the same for her—if she opened her heart enough to allow him the opportunity.
Tori glanced over at the man by her side, the one who’d stubbornly insisted he was strong enough to drive despite the knock he took to his head. She had to admit the man had admirable stamina. They’d been traveling for three hours, and except for a little pallor in his skin, he looked as fit and strong as ever. Which was very fit. With all those lovely muscles that, yes, she enjoyed looking at. His strong jaw. His warm, gray eyes. A little sigh eased through her parted lips. The way those eyes heated even further right before he had kissed her.
A shiver danced over her skin as she recalled the tender way his mouth had covered hers. The touch had been so different from Paul’s forceful, selfish groping. She’d felt nothing but pleasure at Ben’s kiss. No fear. No resurgence of harsh memories. Only a feeling of being utterly cherished. A feeling she could grow quite greedy for, if she weren’t careful. But who wanted to be careful? Not her. Not anymore.
Feeling daring, Tori snuck another peek at Ben, her gaze zeroing in on the lips that had brought her such pleasure. Lips that were curving up at the corners.
She jerked her attention away from his mouth, embarrassed to have been caught staring, but before she could turn her head, his warm, teasing gaze captured hers.
“I haven’t thought of much else, either,” he said in a voice low enough not to wake Lewis, who dozed in the wagon bed.
Tori’s cheeks heated. How did the man always know what she was thinking? If they were to marry, she’d have to find a way to even the playing field. Perhaps study him so closely that she could read his thoughts as well.
She turned back and stared at him until he squirmed, inwardly delighting at his growing discomfort. It was about time she got the upper hand.
“Tori? Everything all right?”
A true smile blossomed across her face, one that grew so wide it stretched her out-of-practice cheeks almost to the point of pain.
Ben blinked at her as if momentarily blinded.
“Everything’s perfect,” she proclaimed. And she meant it.
Frannie had been right. The truth had set her free. It had taken Tori several hours to recognize the change, but it was there. Inside. A lightness of spirit–one that felt foreign but, oh, so wonderful. And not just because a man she admired told her he loved her, though that was a miracle she’d be savoring for years.
There was more to it, a freedom that resonated in the very core of her soul. Her guilt and secrets had chained her in a dungeon of her own making. A dungeon she’d wrongly believed would keep her safe, when in actuality it held her prisoner.
But no more. She was out in the sunshine now, and she’d not go back. Freedom meant risking pain and disappointment and confrontations with evil, but it also enabled joy and a richness of life that superseded the mere existence she’d subjected herself to for the last several years. And perhaps, if God were very generous, it might even bring—she laid a hand on Ben’s arm—love.
“Tori?” Ben’s brows rose, disappearing behind the bandage he wore.
She tightened her hold and stared intently into his eyes. “We’ll have some details to work out with the logistics of courting in a women’s colony, but if your patience can hold out a little longer, and if you’re still interested . . .” Her lashes dropped. She couldn’t actually say the words. It would be far too forward. Wouldn’t it?
Thank heavens she was sitting beside a man who had a tendency to ride to her rescue. She only waited a heartbeat before he cleared his throat and twisted to face her, leaving the horses to make their own way.
“Miss Adams?” He straightened his spine, and addressed her with such a formal tone she felt the need to bite back her smile and heed him with solemnity. Not that it worked. Her grin kept breaking free, even when she used her teeth to hold onto her bottom lip.
Ben had much more self-control. His face remained inscrutable. Well, except for the delight dancing in his gray eyes. A delight that made her heart race and her stomach flutter.
“Miss Adams.” He repeated. “Are you giving me permission to call on you?”
Tori did her best to play along. She gave a prim nod. “I am, sir. As long as your intentions are honorable.”
Ben dropped the façade, reached between them, and stroked the edge of her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Tori, I plan to honor you all the days of my life.”
He leaned close and touched his lips to her forehead. A tremor coursed down her neck and over her spine.
He kissed her temple, the tender caress stealing Tori’s breath.
“For richer, for poorer.”
He kissed the line of her jaw.
“In sickness and in health.”
His lips hovered a bare hairsbreadth away from hers.
Please, she silently begged. Please.
He crooked a finger and placed it beneath her chin, then slowly tilted her face to meet his at the right angle.
“Until death do us part.”
Finally his mouth met hers, and Tori caught her second glimpse of heaven that day. Warm, tender, and so full of love, her heart throbbed in response.
Somewhere along the edges of her awareness, she felt the wagon slow to a halt and silently rejoiced. If the horses didn’t need their driver, she could keep his attention a little longer. And, oh, how she enjoyed his attention.
Tori wrapped her arms around Ben’s neck and lifted herself closer to him, exulting at the feel of his arm circling her waist and his hand flattening against her back. This was where she belonged. In the arms of this man.
“Mama? Are we home?”
The sleepy voice jolted Tori. She jerked away from Ben, her cheeks warming even as her determination sparked. Instead of glancing into the wagon bed to address her son, she kept her gaze focused on the man beside her as she gave her answer.
“Yes, Lewis,” she said, having no idea how far away they were from Harper’s Station and not caring in the slightest. “We’re home.”
Keep reading for a special excerpt of Heart on the Line by Karen Witemeyer.