Christina Harris

She walked slowly back to their house in the woods. Spring was just beginning to blossom, despite the thin layer of frozen precipitant covering the ground. The smell of pollen could be smelled through the rainy dew with each soft cool breeze. There was little doubt in her mind that there would be a storm later in the day. When she was sure she was out of sight, she removed her bonnet. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined herself back in Pennsylvania. She continued on her way to the house, her holding in her hand and simple wooden rosary. She brought it with her to every service, holding it tightly and in the folds of her skirt so it would not be seen by anyone sitting nearby.

Entering the small wooden house, she walked over to the corner table where the family bible sat on a stand, open to that day's scripture passage, and placed the rosary behind it. It could not be seen, really, unless someone was looking for it. She walked up the steps leading to the very small second story and sat down on the bed, yawning. She was tired more from boredom than from lack of rest. She looked out the window at the forest outside, waiting for Charles to return home. It was a miracle she had convinced Charles to accept the dinner invitation from the Blakely's. She did not see it as inappropriate. She promised they would discuss God, making the dinner itself also devoted to Him. Clearly it wasn't too much of a problem if the Blakely's had invited them in the first place.

Charles was so up tight about these things.