A Love All Her Own by Janet Lee Barton

asked God to do and as He has done. We are His children, and each day, we must give ourselves over to doing God’s will and not our own.”
    As he finished his sermon and they stood to sing the invitational hymn, Abigail felt as if the minister had spoken just to her and decided she wanted to think about this sermon and read her Bible more.
    The final prayer was said, and she followed Marcus out into the aisle.
    “Wasn’t that a wonderful lesson?” his mother asked from just behind Abigail. “I think one of the hardest things for us to do is to learn to forgive ourselves. John gave me much to think about.”
    Abigail couldn’t imagine that Mrs. Wellington had that problem, for she couldn’t envision that the woman had ever sinned. Yet she knew that as humans, everyone did. Still, compared to all she’d done. . .yet. . .
    “You look very nice today,” Marcus said, as he led her out to his buggy for the trip to his mother’s.
    “Thank you.” Abigail could feel her cheeks heat up and wondered what it was about this man that could do that to her. She wasn’t one to blush, but for some reason, she felt like a young schoolgirl when Marcus complimented her. She wanted to tell him how handsome he looked in his black suit, and she’d never found it hard to compliment a man until now. In fact, she’d found it quite easy. Had that been because she hadn’t really meant it?
    At the Wellington home, it felt quite natural to help Mrs. Wellington get Sunday dinner on the table. Like Abigail’s mother, Mrs. Wellington tried to let her housekeeper take off on Sundays. Abigail was just now realizing that it was something she should have been doing with her own housekeeper all along.
    She sighed. One more thing to feel guilty about. Then she remembered the sermon she’d just heard and had hope that she could put all of that behind her. For the first time, she truly believed that perhaps she could be forgiven her past mistakes—if she could become a different person than the one she’d been these last few years. It was something she needed to think more on—and she would as soon as she got back to the hotel.
    ❧
    Marcus watched Abigail from across his parents’ dining table. She was laughing at something his father had said, and she’d never looked prettier to him. He couldn’t put his finger on when it began to happen, but each time he was with Abigail, she seemed to be changing in small ways that were hard to discern. She seemed. . .somewhat softer—less brittle? It was as if that hard edge she’d seemed to have the day he met her was fading away, and she didn’t seem so much on guard. Much as he would like to think that it was because she felt safe and secure knowing he and his men were watching over her, he had a feeling there was much more to it than that. Besides, she still seemed a bit wary around him at times. And sometimes she still looked so vulnerable he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that he’d never let anything happen to her.
    As if I can control those kinds of things. All I can do is see that she is protected to the best of my ability, but if her heart is still broken, there is nothing I can do about that.
    The thought took him back a bit. Her broken engagement was none of his business; he knew that. Neither was her broken heart. Yet he wished he could do something—anything—to mend it so that she might look at him as someone besides the man her father had hired to watch over her.
    “Marcus?” His mother broke into his thoughts, and he found that everyone was watching him. It appeared he’d missed some of the conversation while he was woolgathering.
    “Yes, Mother?”
    She paused with her fingers on her temple. “Well, I was going to ask you something, but as long as it took to get your attention, it appears I’ve forgotten what it was.”
    “I’m sorry, Mother.” He couldn’t help but chuckle along with her, though, when she laughed and shook her head.
    “You looked as if you