Edge of the Wilderness by Stephanie Grace Whitson Page A

true. Samuel Whitney witnessed the signing of the papers yesterday evening in the offices of Marshall & Dodd. The Pottses were booked passage on the Abigail and settled into their room last night in preparation for the trip back downriver.” He tucked his Bible under his arm.
    “And Hope stays with us?” Gen asked.
    He nodded. “All the Pottses wanted was five hundred dollars.”
    “But Simon,” Gen asked, frowning slightly, “where did you get five hundred dollars?”
    He winked. “You didn’t know I was independently wealthy, did you?” He turned to go. “It’s been taken care of. That’s the important thing. I’ll be back in time for breakfast.”
    Gen called out, “I’ll only ask Samuel if you won’t tell me. But I’d rather hear it from you.”
    He turned back around and leaned against the door frame. “I had some money saved,” he said vaguely.
    “Just last week we were wondering how to pay for Aaron’s schoolbooks,” Gen said in disbelief.
    Simon walked to where she sat and patted her hand. “The only thing you need to know is that Hope is securely with us. The Pottses agreed to appoint me her legal guardian and they gave up all rights to her, which, according to the attorney, means if we ever so desire we can adopt her.” He turned to go. “I hope you don’t mind that I gave her my last name. I thought it would be easier for her in the future if she shared Meg and Aaron’s family name.
    Gen snatched his hand up. “Your wedding ring—” She touched the white band of exposed flesh where the ring had been, then looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Simon—you sold your wedding ring?”
    He pulled his hand away and shoved it in his pocket.
    She moved his coat open a little and peeked at his vest pocket. “And your gold watch—and that gorgeous fob Mrs. Leighton sent out for Christmas—” She stood up, clutching his coat lapel. “What else? What else did you sell, Simon?” When he looked away nervously, her eyes widened and she half whispered, “Not Ellen’s wedding ring? Not the diamond—oh, Simon—that was her grandmother’s —it was for Meg—”
    “Both Ellen and Meg would have granted permission had they known the situation,” he said firmly. “What is important is that Hope is secure in a new life where she is loved far more than gold or diamonds.”
    Beginning to cry, Gen wrapped her arms around him, sobbing out thank-yous. He held her for a moment, fearful of the emotions that rose in him at the feel of her body against his. He patted her head awkwardly, murmuring, “Don’t cry, my dear.”
    They stood together for a moment until Gen backed away and gestured toward the table. “Let me make you some breakfast.”
    “You don’t have to do that,” Simon said. “I was just going out the back door to head for the church. I’ll be back in time to eat with the family.”
    “Please, Simon,” Gen begged. “We never have time alone.” She had already reached for the rolling pin and biscuit cutter.
    “All right,” he said uncertainly. Putting his Bible back on the table, he sat down. Gen’s back was to him, and for the first time in a long time he could admire her profile without the threat of someone else noticing. When she spun around to pour him a second cup of coffee he looked away quickly and felt his cheeks growing warm.
    “Read to me,” she said, quietly nodding at the Bible.
    He opened the book and began to read: “‘I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, always in every prayer of mine for you all making request with joy, for your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now; being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ: Even as it is meet for me to think this of you all, because I have you in my heart . . .’”
    Gen asked over her shoulder, “Where is that?”
    “Philippians,” Simon answered quickly. “Paul wrote it from prison. I’ve