She tugged at his arm. “When did you give that window?”

“Last year when the sanctuary was renovated.”

Tina and Beth sat between them, sedately conscious of their new blue coats and bonnets. People looked over at the children throughout the service. She knew Erich was aware of the glances too. He had a contented smile on his face and during the sermon slipped his hand into hers.

Midway through the sermon he whispered, “You’re beautiful, Jenny. Everybody is looking at you and the girls.”

After the service he introduced her to Pastor Barstrom, a slight man in his late sixties with a gentle face. “We’re happy to have you with us, Jenny,” he said warmly. He looked down at the girls. “Now who’s Beth and who’s Tina?”

“You know their names,” Jenny commented, pleased.

“Indeed I do. Erich told me all about you when he stopped by the parsonage. I hope you realize what a very generous husband you have. Thanks to him our new senior citizen center will be very comfortable and well-equipped. I’ve known Erich since he was a boy and we’re all very happy for him now.”

“I’m mighty happy too,” Jenny smiled.

“There’s a meeting of the women in the parish Thursday night. Perhaps you’d like to join them? We want to get to know you.”

“I’d love to,” Jenny agreed.

“Darling, we’d better start,” Erich said. “There are others who want to visit with the pastor.”

“Of course.” As she extended her hand, the pastor said, “It certainly must have been very difficult for you to be widowed so young with such little babies, Jenny. Both you and Erich are surely deserving of much good fortune and many blessings now.”

Erich propelled her forward before she could do more than gasp. In the car she exclaimed, “Erich, surely you didn’t tell Pastor Barstrom that I was widowed, did you?”

Erich steered the car from the curb. “Jenny, Granite Place isn’t New York. It’s a small town in the Mid-west. People around here were shocked to hear I was getting married a month after I met you. At least a young widow is a sympathetic image; a New York divorcée says something quite different in this community. And I never exactly said you were a widow. I told Pastor Barstrom you had lost your husband. He surmised the rest.”

“So you didn’t lie but in effect I’ve lied for you by not correcting him,” Jenny said. “Erich, don’t you understand the kind of position that places me in?”

“No, I don’t, dear. And I won’t have people around here wondering if I had my head turned by a sophisticated New Yorker taking advantage of a hayseed.”

Erich had a mortal fear of looking ridiculous, so much so that he would lie to his clergyman to avoid the possibility.

“Erich, I will have to tell Pastor Barstrom the truth when I go to the meeting Thursday night.”

“I’ll be gone Thursday.”

“I know. That’s why I think it would be pleasant to be there. I’d like to meet the people around here.”

“Are you planning to leave the children alone?”

“Of course not. Surely there are baby-sitters?”

“Surely you don’t intend to leave the children with just anyone?”

“Pastor Barstrom could recommend…”

“Jenny, please wait. Don’t start getting involved in activities. And don’t tell Pastor Barstrom you’re a divorcée. Knowing him, he’ll never bring up the subject again unless you introduce it.”

“But why do you object to my going?”

Erich took his eyes from the road and looked at her. “Because I love you so much I’m not ready to share you with other people, Jenny. I won’t share you with anyone, Jenny.”

11

Erich was leaving for Atlanta on February 23. On the twenty-first, he told Jenny he had an errand to do and would be late for lunch. It was nearly one-thirty when he returned. “Come over to the stable,” he invited. “I’ve got a surprise for you.” Grabbing a jacket, she ran out with him.

Mark Garrett was waiting there, smiling broadly. “Meet the new tenants,” he said.

Two Shetland ponies stood side by side in the stalls nearest the door. Their manes and tails were full and lustrous, their copper bodies gleaming. “My present to my new daughters,” Erich said proudly. “I thought we’d call them Mouse and Tinker Bell. Then the Krueger girls will never forget their pet names.”

He hurried her to the next stall.

“And this is your gift.”

Speechless, Jenny stared at a bay Morgan mare who returned her gaze amiably.

“She’s a treasure,” Erich exulted. “Four years old, impeccable breeding, gentle. She’s already won half a dozen ribbons. Do you like her?”

Jenny reached a hand to pat the mare’s head and was thrilled that the animal did not draw back. “What’s her name?”

“The breeder called her Fire Maid. Claims she has fire and heart as well as heritage. Of course you can call her anything you want.”

“Fire and heart,” Jenny whispered. “That’s a lovely combination. Erich, I’m so delighted.”

He looked pleased. “I don’t want you riding yet. The fields are still too icy. But if you and the girls start making friends with the horses and visiting them every day, by next month you can get started on lessons. Now if you don’t mind, how about lunch?”

Impulsively Jenny turned to Mark. “You can’t have had lunch either. Won’t you join us? It’s just cold meat and a salad.”

She caught Erich’s frown but was relieved to see it disappear as fast as it came. “Please do, Mark,” he urged.

Over lunch Jenny realized that she was constantly thinking about Fire Maid. Finally Erich said, “Darling, you have the most happy-child smile on your face. Is it me or the bay mare?”

“Erich, I have to say I’m so darn delighted about that horse I haven’t even begun to think about thanking you.”

“Have you ever had a pet, Jenny?” Mark asked.

There was something sturdy and easygoing about Mark that made her feel instantly at home in his presence. “I almost had a pet,” she laughed. “One of our neighbors in New York had a miniature poodle. When puppies were born I used to stop every afternoon on my way home from school to help take care of them. I was about eleven or twelve. But we weren’t allowed to have pets in our apartment.”

“So you always felt cheated,” Mark guessed.

“I certainly felt as though I missed something growing up.”

They finished coffee and Mark pushed back his chair. “Jenny, thank you. This has been very pleasant.”

“I wish you’d come to dinner when Erich gets back from Atlanta. Bring a date.”

“That’s a good idea,” Erich agreed, and she thought he sounded as though he meant it. “How about Emily, Mark? She’s always had an eye for you.”

“She always had an eye for you,” Mark corrected. “But yes, I will ask her.”

Before Erich left, he held her tightly. “I’ll miss you so, Jenny. Be sure to lock the doors at night.”

“I will. We’ll be fine.”

“The roads are icy. If you want something from the store let Joe drive you.”

“Erich, I’m a big girl,” she protested. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I can’t help it. I’ll call you tonight, darling.”

That night Jenny felt a guilty sense of freedom as she lay propped up in bed reading. The house was still except for the occasional hum of the furnace as it went off and on. From across the hallway she could hear Tina occasionally talking in her sleep. She smiled, realizing that Tina never woke up crying anymore.

Erich should have gotten to Atlanta by now. He’d be calling soon. She glanced around the room. The closet door was half open and she’d left her robe tossed over the slipper chair. Erich would have objected, of course, but tonight she didn’t have to worry.

She returned to her book. An hour later the telephone rang. She reached for the receiver eagerly.