Isabella found Naomi in the medical clinic, cleaning after a procedure that had involved a good deal of blood. At the moment, it appeared she’d caught Naomi and Joe between patients.

“I simply must confide what happened today.” Her heart overflowed with so myriad emotions. Relief. Happiness. Pleasure.

Naomi passed off the housekeeping duties to her husband and led Isabella by the hand into the back room, their private space where they kept medical journals and shared meals.

Months and months ago, Naomi had told her the sweetest story of Joe’s first kiss in this room, followed by his proposal of marriage. The couple had known one another through a pair of telegrams and one life-changing surgery. Joe had known all he needed to. Naomi was perfect for him, and he for her.

Now Isabella’s first kiss had brought her to a similar place. Who would’ve thought, last Christmas, that Dr. Henry Merritt would be the ideal man for her?

She sank into the chair Naomi offered at the table. Pleasant springtime air washed in through the open window. One quick peek outside confirmed no one would overhear from the alleyway.

“The most wonderful thing has happened. We returned from Almy to discover Mrs. Abigail Drescher waiting for us, presenting with what appeared to be an impacted wisdom tooth. Do you know her?”

“Indeed, I do. She was a witness when her husband officiated our marriage.”

“Henry examined her, then invited me to also. We knew something wasn’t right. We talked it through, he on one side of Mrs. Drescher and me on the other.”

She delved into more medical details than she’d share with Sophia, enjoying the light in Naomi’s eyes as her friend picked up on precisely what Isabella had. Through it all, Naomi’s joy blossomed. Who in Evanston would understand as well? Doc Joe and Doc Naomi practiced medicine separately, together, and shared a marriage based on respect, trust, and love.

“Henry did the most astounding thing.” Her heart tripped faster and expanded at least one more size. “He deferred to me. Without hesitation.”

“Of course he did. Who found the missing piece of the puzzle?”

“We did. Together.” Isabella laughed, the joy of coming together with Henry in a purely intellectual and utterly magical way effervescing within her. “He’s bright, well-read, competent, and we’ve discovered our preferences and opinions coincide for the most part. Where we disagree, we’ve found common ground through discussion. He respects my opinion, and I respect his.”

“I wondered how sharing that big dental office above the pharmacy would work out. I’m happy for you that it has.”

“Working with him has been splendid.” Listening to his innermost thoughts, holding them close to her heart . . . “It all feels right.”

“I don’t know what burr Henry had under his saddle from the hour you arrived in Evanston, but we’ve noted the changes. I believe he loves you.” Naomi, with her patented blend of compassion and forthright comfort, clasped Isabella’s hand. “Have you told him how you feel?”

Rather than answer the question, she opted to distract with a revelation. “He kissed me today.”

Her friends knew, to Isabella, kisses conveyed promises. To kiss a man she didn’t regard would be unthinkable. “I kissed him back. With equal interest.”

“But you suppose Henry is freer with his kisses than you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Kisses are all well and good. Some men need words, or they miss the point.” A moment passed. “Tell him how you feel.”

She opened her mouth, found herself at a loss for words, and closed it.

“I know you, Isabella. You’re one of my dearest friends. You don’t give your heart easily, yet you’re overflowing with love for Henry.”

Yes, she did love him. Why risk everything by saying something?

“Your situation is highly unusual,” she told Naomi. “Joe wanted you to be all that you are.”

“From my observations, I believe Henry wants you for who you are.”

Doubt tickled the back of her neck.

She’d believed in her parents’ love, trusted their love and support would remain forever constant and unchanging. Her North Star.

But she’d lost her parents’ affection. A grain at a time, through an hourglass, the currency of love had betrayed her because she wasn’t what they wanted her to be.

If her own parents’ love could grow dim and cold, how could she trust a man’s affection to remain true?

Especially Henry, who’d wanted a traditional wife from the beginning.

He might love her for the moment.

How could she hand him the power to destroy her? Confessing her love for him, handing him that power on a silver platter, would give him the key.

But if she didn’t, he couldn’t reject her.

“He loves you,” Naomi insisted.

She nodded, desperate to convey enthusiasm.

Much had damaged Henry’s ability to love with abandon. He still carried scars from Lenora—a lady dentist.

What if he couldn’t set aside those wounds, and trust again? Trust her, a lady dentist who wanted him to love her, forever and ever.

“Will you tell him how you feel?” Naomi believed one little step would close the gap. Maybe matters had been so simple for Joe and Naomi.

But for Henry and Isabella? Love hadn’t been kind. Love hadn’t been easy.

“I’ll try.”

Henry wandered the city streets.

No amount of greeting friends and acquaintances lightened his mood.

He waved to Chadwick and Sophia peddling on the tandem bicycle Chad had built for his bride. Sophia rang her bicycle bell in rapid succession. Chadwick returned Henry’s wave and called, “Good evening to you!”

The two of them were blissfully happy, their pleasure in bicycling evident for all to see.

Their happiness served to amplify his own misery.

He’d walked four or five miles, but agitation clung to him and vibrated in his bones.

The sun would set within the quarter hour, and the early June temperatures dropped quickly, but he wasn’t ready to return to the Linden home. Frederick and Gertrude would be settling their child for the night. The sights and sounds of their blessed domesticity were usually a sweet reminder of everything he wanted and all he’d determined worth waiting for.

But after today’s endearments, he’d had second thoughts.

Powerful, threatening reconsiderations.

He’d wanted, desperately, to cast aside his firm convictions to find a suitable wife—one who would make a comfortable home, one whose entire focus would be their family’s happiness—even though he couldn’t support that family. Yet. His income was still unstable and insufficient.

In the moment before he’d lost all sense and kissed Isabella, he’d stood at the proverbial fork in the road. He’d been tempted to abandon his carefully determined path. Where would that leave them?

Without meaning to, he found himself on Joe’s street. Joe was on the porch.

“It’s odd to see you alone on that swing,” Henry said. “Is Naomi out?”

“We returned home to find a note from Mrs. Linden—you do know she’s near confinement?”

A quick nod.

“Naomi won’t be back for a while yet.” Joe eyed Henry too closely. “Want to sit?”

“No, thanks.” Discomposure drove Henry to pace. “I’ve ruined everything with Isabella.”

“What happened?”

Regrets churned. Every time he closed his eyes, the delicate fragrance of violets and the softness of her lips taunted him. “I kissed her.”

Joe waited. No sign of disappointment, no chuckle, no I told you so. How could Joe not understand the seriousness of this diversion?

“Now everything is at risk.” Henry paced the walk from stoop to gate, turning back again. “Our business relationship, our friendship—”

“Not necessarily.”

“Joe! My financial situation is finally improving. The fellows don’t trouble her, not anymore. I enjoyed her company in the office, the drives to Almy. Everything was perfect.”

Despite the intervening hours since the incident, he couldn’t string together a coherent explanation. “I want to put it all back. I want everything the way it was.”

Joe seemed content to listen without further comment.

“I need your insight, man. What possessed me to kiss her?”

“Do you want my thoughts?”

Maybe he didn’t. Joe and Chadwick were firmly of the opinion that professional women made wonderful wives.

“I could pontificate at length, but I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say.”

How would Joe’s crowing congratulations help? “You’re right. I’m sorry, Joe. I must go.”