She laughed. “You, who can talk in front of crowds, who charmed this entire town into letting you build the most ambitious business it’s ever known?”
“Just because I can act like a salesman doesn’t mean I like it.” He leaned against the wall, no longer peering out the window with her. “In fact,” his voice softened, slowed, “I think I’m better suited for steady work than essentially being a traveling salesman.”
“Oh?” Her heart was beating so painfully it throbbed all the way up to her throat, so that single word nearly choked her.
“Can you hear the wheel still going, turning that grinding stone down there?”
She nodded, grateful for the return to lighter fare.
“There are two sets of stones for spinning, you know. One for coarse and one for fine. The finest flour will come from only one set of stones, and that’s the set we brought with us. My father bought them in Baltimore—the only place in the country you can get French grinding stones. That was the last set we owned.”
“So. . .I suppose your family will have to go back East again. For more stones.”
He shifted to look out the window again, bending closer to her, and pointed toward his father at one of the tables. “He’s a brilliant man, my father. He wanted to build the best mill possible, and this”—Lukas raised both palms to take in their surroundings—“is it.”
“I’m glad he built it here, then.”
Leaning so close to the window had brought his face only inches from hers. “This is the last mill he intends to build, Sally.”
She wanted to read into that statement, but refused to jump to the best possible conclusion. “I suppose he’s taught you and your brothers all you need to know to carry on, then.”
He held her gaze, his lips curling into a smile. “Yes. My brothers could build more mills.”
“And. . .you?”
His gaze slipped to her mouth then back to her eyes. “I’m staying right here to run this mill, Sally; with my father.”
“But. . . But you hired Charley Gibbons!”
“Yes. So?”
“Isn’t he going to run the mill?”
Lukas laughed. “Run the mill? All by himself? A man with one summer of training?”
“You’re staying then?” The question seemed needless, but she wasn’t convinced. “For a while, just until you’re sure it’s being run properly?”
“No.” He drew out the word. “I’m going from mill builder to miller. I’m finished traveling every summer to a different town. I want a home.”
“Do you?”
He stood only inches away, yet he took a tiny step closer. Close enough to feel his breath on her cheek. “Home, Sally. Here. With you.”
Then he took her in his arms, kissed her gently, and she did exactly what she’d always done when she’d imagined this moment; she threw her arms around him and kissed him back.
Pulling away at last, she saw his smile illuminated so clearly in the moonlight. But then he put on a frown.
“Your kiss isn’t quite convincing enough, Sally. There’s only one way you can convince me that you want me to stay. Do you know how?”
She laughed, keeping her arms tight around his neck. “I want you to stay. Stay. . .Lukas.”
He swept her up into a spin, kissing her again then whispering, “That’s closer, my love. But I need to hear the words I see in your eyes.”
She’d imagined saying the words so many times they drained away her shyness. “I love you, Lukas.”
“Ah, Sally, that’s what I’ve waited to hear. I love you, too.”
Then, pressing his lips to hers, he spoke in spite of the kiss. “Will you marry me?”
She let her lips answer for her.
About the Author
Maureen Lang writes stories inspired by a love of history and romance. An avid reader herself, she’s figured out a way to write the stories she feels like reading. Maureen’s inspirationals have earned various writing distinctions including the Inspirational Reader’s Choice Contest, a HOLT Medallion, and the Selah Award, as well as being a finalist for the Rita, Christy, and Carol Awards. In addition to investigating various eras in history (such as Victorian England, the First World War, and America’s Gilded Age), Maureen loves taking research trips to get a feel for the settings of her novels. She lives in the Chicago area with her family and has been blessed to be the primary caregiver to her adult disabled son.
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