At last, with bellies unable to hold another bite and children falling asleep, the Nielsens piled into their wagon to head home. A November sunset painted the sky toward swiftly falling night as they rode.
Adam and Jesse joined them for Thanksgiving evening, though no one except the children had room for any supper save coffee and a few bites of leftover pie.
Once Robbie, Sofie, and Mikael had tumbled sleepily into their beds, the grown-ups lingered around the table, sipping coffee and visiting.
“This reminds me of home—I mean, home back in Ohio.” Lark cupped her hands around her drink. “Ma always said family conversation around the table was the best kind, remember?”
“I do.” Del tipped her head. “We must keep up that tradition in our new home. Never stop gathering around the table together—even if it’s a bit crowded yet.”
They all chuckled, for here in the cramped main room of the soddy, they barely had room for a table large enough for all of them to squeeze around, especially when the doctor and Jesse joined them. They’d had to move another bed into the addition to make it possible.
“Someday we’ll have a bigger house. Not too far off, I hope.” Lark nodded. “How are your plans coming for your house, Doctor?”
Forsythia glanced at Adam, loving the way his eyes lit at the question.
He leaned forward. “Well, I’ve bought the land, just a short ways out of town, and have already spoken with an architect and a builder. We’ve finalized the plans and should be able to start building as soon as the snow clears in spring.” He took Forsythia’s hand. “I wish it could be ready for our wedding. But my sweet bride has graciously assured me she doesn’t mind spending the winter in my rooms above the office. Jesse will move in with the Jorgensens for the time being.”
Del raised a brow. “You aren’t waiting till spring to get married?”
Adam’s grip tightened on Forsythia’s fingers. He shot her a glance.
She cleared her throat. “We’re thinking of getting married at Christmas.” That was Adam’s desire, and she hadn’t contradicted it. Though whenever she thought of being married in just a few short weeks, she found it a little hard to breathe. Was it only from excitement?
“I see.” Del said nothing more, but her lips thinned.
Forsythia noticed Lark studying her before steering the conversation toward the church plans to celebrate the upcoming Christmas season. But a strain hung over the rest of the evening, spoiling the festive spirit they’d all shared.
Adam and Jesse soon said good night, and Forsythia walked her doctor out to their buggy. The air hung clear and bitter cold, the black sky frosted with stars above. She shivered even in her coat, her breath puffing in the night air.
“You must hurry back inside.” With Jesse already in the buggy, Adam laid his mittened hands on her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “I think so.”
He pressed a kiss to her woolen hood. “I love you, you know.”
“I love you too.” She watched the buggy drive off over the frozen ground, wondering if the chill in the air heralded snow. They’d only had dustings so far.
She hurried back into the lamplit warmth of the soddy. Lark and Lilac were looking at some of Lilac’s latest drawings by the fire while Del washed the coffee cups.
Forsythia joined her, taking a dish towel to dry. “So what was that about?”
“What was what about?”
“You know. Adam’s and my wedding, at the table.” Irritation prickled. “You were unhappy about something. Spit it out.”
Del sighed. “I just . . . I hope you aren’t moving too fast.”
“We’ve known each other nearly six months. These things can move swiftly out here on the prairie.” Hearing herself repeat the arguments she had run so often through her own head, Forsythia paused, letting her defenses lower. “You think we are?”
“I can’t say for certain. Only . . .” Del laid her dishcloth down and looked at her sister. “You say nearly six months . . . Sythia, it’s only been six months, just half a year since his wife died. You love each other, and are no doubt God’s gift to one another. I don’t question that. But I do question not giving it a bit more time.”
Forsythia stared at the coffee cup in her hand, rubbing the rim with her drying cloth over and over. Though she hadn’t wanted to admit any barrier to moving forward, the wisdom in her sister’s words sank into her head and heart. A sigh rose up from the soles of her feet, or so it felt. “I’ll talk to him.”
Del squeezed Forsythia’s hand with her damp one. “Forgive me if I’ve overstepped, little sister. I just don’t want you to make a mistake.”
Nor did she wish to, certainly. But oh, Lord, how am I going to tell Adam?
30
What do you mean, you don’t want to get married yet?” Adam’s brows drew together in a darker frown than Forsythia had ever seen except for when he first found out about Clark being Lark.
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” She twisted her hands together, sitting on one of the chairs in Adam’s office, where she’d found him organizing medical supplies. “It’s just that I’ve begun to wonder if we’re moving too fast.”
“Because of what your sister said.” Adam slammed a drawer harder than necessary.
“But she’s right, Adam.” Forsythia bored her gaze into his bent head, willing him to understand. It had taken her a few days since her talk with Del to work up the courage to talk to him about it, but she knew it was the right thing to do. “It’s only been six months since you lost Elizabeth. We’ve been acquainted even less time. Does that not seem fast to you?”
“And God can work quickly, when He’s of a mind. Or do you—or your sisters—doubt that too? I’ve heard of far faster courtships on the frontier than ours.”
“And does that mean we shouldn’t even consider
