Page 6 of My True Love Gave to Me

Her stomach dancing, she thanked her father and did her best to walk at a sedate pace to the front door. It didn't help having Heloise and Beverly whispering excitedly behind her, trying to guess how Simeon was going to handle seven swans. By the time she reached the door, so much anticipation pounded through her that she barely noticed Herald standing on the front porch, extending his arm to her.

"May I escort you, Miss Anna?"

Escort her? Where?

"Good day, Miss King!" A short man in boots and vest stood in the yard a few feet away from the base of the porch steps. He shifted the box he held in front of him to one arm long enough to doff his hat, then shifted it back. "I've got a delivery for you."

"I told you just to leave it on the porch, Wilbur," her father grumbled.

"No sir. I can't do that. I'm under strict instructions to deliver the gift to the lady herself. There's some . . . demonstration involved, you see."

With Herald all but blocking the steps, accepting his escort would be easier than trying to sidle past him, especially with the growing number of people lingering about. It seemed word had spread about her unusual gifts. And Wilbur Darrow was never one to let an opportunity for free advertising pass him by. Half this crowd probably followed him from the general store.

It felt wrong, somehow, to be on Herald's arm while accepting a gift from Simeon, so as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she released him and moved to meet Mr. Darrow on her own. Herald followed. Closely. Too closely. In fact, she was pretty sure she felt his hand brush the small of her back.

He'd never acted like this before. Not even when they took their obligatory walks together in the mornings. Was it because he had an audience? Was he trying to stake a claim? She frowned up at him, but he just smiled and kept himself glued to her side.

Determined not to let him ruin Simeon's gift, Anna decided to pretend he wasn't there. She beamed a smile at Mr. Darrow even as she glanced into the box he held.

"Spurs?" Her forehead scrunched as she looked to the storekeeper for the promised explanation.

"Not just any spurs, ma'am." Mr. Darrow lifted his voice so the surrounding crowd could hear. "See how the spur neck stretches out and upward from the heel band? These are swan neck spurs. Seven of 'em." He leaned closer and lowered his voice a bit. "Can't sell 'em except in pairs, so young Simeon has the eighth one if ya need it." He straightened and raised his voice again. "And if you'd be so kind as to hold the box . . ." He handed it to her with a wink. "I've been instructed to set all the rowels to spinning." Using the index fingers on both hands, he quickly flicked all the rowels into motion. "I give you . . . seven swans a spinning!"

Anna laughed in delight. "How utterly perfect!"

She glanced past a grinning Mr. Darrow, past the smattering of townsfolk, searching for the one face she wanted to see most. There. Half-hidden by the tree across the street. Her chest swelled with warmth as her gaze locked on her beloved.

Herald reached for the box she held. She thought the act chivalrous at first until she heard his low whisper. "Now's not the time, Anna."

Not the time? Not the time to publicly declare which suitor she preferred? Is that what he meant? Well, it might not fit into his timetable, but it certainly fit into hers.

Keeping her smile in place she tightened her hold on the box and turned away from him. "Heloise? Would you take this up to the house for me?"

Her friend must have read her mind, for she was already there. Beverly came, too, approaching on Herald's far side. She slid her arm neatly through his as Anna slipped away, turning him back toward the box as she exclaimed over the contents.

Anna felt the heat of Herald's glare against her back as she scurried across the street, but she paid it no mind. For Simeon stood before her, his eyes drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in a year instead of a mere week.

Not caring who was watching, she ran straight up to him, launched onto her tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, Simeon." His hand touched her waist to steady her, and she smiled as she clung to his arm. "And I'm ready for everyone to know it."

He brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, and looked at her with such tender promise, her heart nearly forgot to beat. "Five more days, my love," he murmured. "Five days, and you'll be mine forever."

His gaze lifted away from her to rest on something across the street. Herald and her father, no doubt. His jaw clenched, but he didn't frown. Just turned back to her and gave her waist a small squeeze. "Go on back, sweetheart. I'll come for you in five days."

"Five days." She echoed the promise, her stomach swirling with all that promise entailed.

In five days she would belong to Simeon. One way or another.

Simeon kept a close eye on Anna as the days marched toward Christmas. He hadn't liked the way Herald Fielder acted around her, as if she belonged to him. His hand on her back, insisting she take his arm in public. Simeon had nearly stormed across the street and grabbed her away from the fellow. Thankfully, he'd kept his jealousy leashed and was rewarded by Anna's sweet kiss. Hearing her declare her love for him soothed the doubts that had crept up over the last week as he'd tortured himself with thoughts of another man courting her. A man who could offer her so many things Simeon couldn't. But his Anna hadn't wavered. He'd seen it in her eyes, heard it in her bubbling enthusiasm, and felt it in her touch. She was still as much his as he was hers. That made everything worth it. The sleepless nights spent forging ideas, the time away from the farm searching through bogs for cockleburs, chasing chickens, and recruiting assistants for the second round of courting gifts.

Not only did Anna give him reason to stay the course, but he'd seen something in her father's eye that seventh day as well. Herald Fielder had been shooting daggers at him from across the street when Anna had hurried to his side. But her father . . . he'd looked . . . thoughtful. Not particularly pleased, but thoughtful constituted progress. And progress took him one step closer to acceptance.

Simeon watched Mr. King even more closely than Anna. When Mary led eight little girls in a parade in front of the house, each girl with a bottle of milk to hand to Anna, Mr. King had stepped forward to help his daughter manage the volume. The next day when Simeon's little brother Gabriel came through with a noisy band of nine boys all drumming away on pots and pans with their wooden spoons, Mr. King had groused about the noise and covered his ears, but he'd made no move to stop Anna from clapping along. Nor did he keep her from running out to march alongside Gabe as he led the troupe in a wide arc in front of the house.

The real progress came on Day Ten, however. Grandpa Joe and nine of his cronies hobbled down the road to the King house and hollered for Anna to come out.

Mr. King had come through the door first, stomped onto the porch and scowled at the motley crew of gray beards assembled in his yard.

"And what are you supposed to be, Joseph? I hope you're not going to start leaping around the place like some kind of decrepit jackrabbit. You're likely to throw a hip out of joint."