Ward rubbed his legs. They hurt, and the skin was scraped off his shins, but he was incredibly fortunate not to be seriously injured.

He’d slept little and in the night hours had lit the lamp and opened his Bible. After some time of reading, hoping, and praying for an answer, he read. There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.

There was no such thing as perfect love. Except God’s love.

The thought filled his head. He could trust God’s love. Did that enable him to trust human love? People made mistakes and often failed. Himself included. Yesterday was proof of that. But if he loved Freyda, and she loved him, he didn’t need to fear opening his heart.

Of course, he didn’t know her feelings, but with a contented sigh, he confessed he loved her. Despite every warning he’d ever given himself. He knew he could trust her to be kind to both him and his sons.

Now what was he to do with that knowledge?

He fell asleep without coming to a decision and rose the next morning, stiff and sore. He had managed to feed the boys supper the night before, but only because there was bread and cheese in the cupboard. He was not up to making anything for breakfast, but they must eat. Bread and syrup would have to do. All he had wanted was to sit by the stove, wrapped in a blanket.

Milo went to the door and looked out. “Mrs. Haevre was mad at you.”

“I know.”

“You should say sorry to her.”

When Ward didn’t answer, Milo took Storm and went outside, closing the door firmly behind him.

Kit rocked back and forth on his heels, Skunk clutched to his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Ward asked.

“I don’t like mad.”

“I don’t either.” He rubbed his legs again and made up his mind to do as Milo suggested. “Would you like to go visit Mrs. Haevre?”

Kit grinned and raced outside. “We’s gonna see her,” he called to his brother.

As Ward stepped outside, he saw something that gave him an idea. “Wait a minute.”

The boys could barely contain their impatience as he went past the barn. By the time he returned, they were bouncing with their excitement. He moved a good deal slower than usual and the boys raced ahead, reaching Freyda’s house ahead of him.

She greeted the boys then looked past them. When she saw him, her smile flattened.

Milo noticed her reaction. “Papa’s come to say sorry.”

“Has he now?” She looked at him again. “How are your legs?”

“Nothing serious.” Ward did not detect any welcome in her tone, but he had made up his mind what to do and he meant to do it. “Boys, would you let me talk to Mrs. Haevre alone?”

Milo took Kit’s hand and led him away. “He doesn’t want us to hear him tell her he was wrong.”

“But he will?” Kit didn’t seem convinced of his papa’s good intentions.

Ward waited until they were far enough away then brought the bouquet of purple flowers from behind his back. “I brought you some purple phlox.” He held them out but she didn’t take them.

“I thought you considered them weeds.”

“I might have been wrong. About more than the flowers.”

“Care to explain?”

“You aren’t making this easy, are you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if I truly know what you think.” She took the flowers. “Come on in.” She put the phlox in a jar of water and set them on the table.

At least she hadn’t thrown them out the door. That gave him a degree of encouragement. “I wasn’t thinking yesterday. I know how you fear thunderstorms, so I had tried to think how I could get out from under the tree without you. I didn’t think you’d come.”

Her blue eyes revealed no emotion. “I knew something was wrong. Was I supposed to cringe in my house and not act?”

“Freyda, I’m sorry for misjudging you. I wasn’t thinking clearly. If I had been, I would have known you would face any danger to do what you wanted to do. After all, you came across the ocean, across America, and learned how to handle two difficult horses in order to have a farm of your own.”

“That isn’t why I came.”

He blinked. “It’s not?”

“It’s why I thought I came, but I’ve discovered otherwise.”

Was the hope that flooded his heart only wishful thinking? “Freyda, you conquered your fear of thunderstorms to rescue me. Now I must conquer my fear of disappointment and rejection to say what I think.” Never before had he faced a larger risk, but it was one he must take. “Am I right in thinking you mean you care about me and my boys more than your farm?”

The blue of her eyes warmed like a summer sky. “You are indeed.”

The ice around his heart that had been there so long he had grown used to it melted at the look on her face. His whole being felt alive for the first time ever.

He stood, pulled her to her feet, and into the circle of his arms. “Freyda Haevre, you have melted my heart, your tenderness has opened it to feeling things I have always denied myself.”

“What kind of things?”

“Love.” The truth of his confession flung open his heart. “I love you.”

She smiled so tenderly it brought a sting to his eyes. She cupped her hand to his cheek. “Ward Rollins, I love you. I believe God brought me to America for the sole reason of meeting you and falling in love with you.”

“And I shall always be grateful.” He looked at her lips, lips he had tasted before, but this time was different. This time he knew his feelings, was sure of her response, and he claimed her mouth tenderly. She sighed and wrapped her arms about him, pulling him closer.

The door squeaked open.

Milo and Kit giggled.

Grinning at Freyda, Ward turned to them. “I said I was sorry and she’s forgiven me.”

Milo looked from one to the other. “Does that mean she’s going to be our new mama?”

He looked from one boy to the other. “I didn’t ask her.”

Milo got a look on his face that clearly asked why not?

Ward took Freyda’s hands and went down on one knee, ignoring the pain reminding him of his injuries. “Freyda Haevre, I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“I certainly will.” She leaned over and kissed him.

Milo and Kit ran to them. Ward managed to get to his feet then hugged his family. He had finally found a love he could trust and he gladly shared it with his two sons.