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packed, Hannah was left wondering why touching his hand had given her an unusual feeling of excitement.

Of course, she’d never really touched a man other than her father or brother in such a way before. Could the awkward situation they were in have been the cause of it?

Cameron secured the basket to Raven and turned to look at her.  “Will you help me win the election?”

“I’ll do whatever I can as long as it’s honest,” she replied before mounting her horse.

Hannah and Cameron returned to the house to see Annabelle waiting on the porch with her diary and books.

“I’ll take care of the horses so you can work with Annabelle,” he said.

“We have so much to cover today, and we’re getting a late start.  Would it be possible for you to keep an eye on Georgie when he wakes up from his nap?” Hannah asked.

Cameron turned and stared at her like she’d asked him for a thousand dollars. “I can’t. I have work to do on my case.  It goes to court on Tuesday.”

“You have all day Monday, Cameron,” she said softly, but firmly.

Cameron rolled his eyes.  “You have no concept of how long it takes to prepare a case for court.”

Hannah rolled her eyes with a sigh, turned to Annabelle, and said, “Our lesson will be cut short today, so let’s get down to work.”

While Hannah worked with Annabelle, she felt angry about Cameron’s attitude.  You’d think the children weren’t his the way he acted.

Chapter Seven

Cameron went into his office, put his feet up on the desk and leaned back. His case for Tuesday was finished.  It was a simple case.

He hadn’t realized that having a wife and children would take away all his free time.  He’d never been around children and even though they were well-behaved and cute, he didn’t know how to interact with them.  The only way his aunt had ever amused him was by reading him Bible stories.

He'd felt uncomfortable since leaving Hannah earlier that day. Why did he feel such nagging guilt?  Maybe it was because he’d lied to his wife again.

That was another area of his life he had no expertise in: being a husband.  He'd had no male role model.  All his life it had been just his aunt and himself.  How were husbands supposed to act?  How were fathers supposed to act?  He sighed.  What had he gotten himself into?  He should have stayed single.

Had Simmons been right?  She was a strong-minded woman, and he knew she hated lies. Should he confess everything to Hannah?  What would she say?  How would she react?

A soft knock on the door caused him to swing around in surprise.  “Oh, Bessie—come in.”

Bessie came in with a tray of tea.  “I’m sorry to be late with your tea, but it takes me longer to clean up after meals now that we have more people in the household.”

“I gave you a substantial raise,” he said as he watched Bessie pour his tea.

“Yes, and you were quite generous.  It’s not that I mind Hannah and the children, in fact, I rather enjoy having a family to serve.  I just wanted you to know that some things might take a bit longer.”

“I don’t mind, Bessie.  You’re doing a fine job as always.  Thank you for the tea.”

Bessie turn toward the door, but Cam stopped her.  “Bessie, will you sit with me while I drink my tea?”

She gave him a strange look, shrugged, and sat in a chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, no—on the contrary.  You’re doing a fine job.  I... I... um... just need some personal advice.” When her eyebrows rose, he continued,  “I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.”

“How’s that, sir?” she asked.

“I've lived my whole life with a maiden aunt.  I have no idea of how to act around children and especially how to be a husband—is there anything you can tell me?”

He knew he’d taken her by surprise by her expression, but then her puzzled look turned to one of thoughtfulness.  “Well, pardon me for being frank, sir, but you need to loosen up.”

“Loosen up? How?”

Bessie sighed.  “I don’t know what to say... no one can teach someone how to act.  We’ll all be going to church tomorrow.  I know you’ve never gone to services, but I think you might learn the answers you seek after a few weeks of services.”

“The services will help me loosen up? That’s rather hard to believe, Bessie.”

“I can’t help you.  I’ve never been married and have no children.  Just… pay attention to everything, watch people, and listen to the preacher’s messages.”  Bessie stood.  “You need to pray. Your Father in heaven will show you the way.”

Bessie left the room, and Cam shook his head.  She had been no help at all.

Early on Sunday morning, they got into their luxurious carriage, and Cameron drove to Farley Goodman’s barn.  They alighted and walked through the open barn doors where chairs had been placed in a semi-circle.  At the center stood a cloth-covered podium.

Cameron heard Bessie whisper rather loudly to Hannah,  “You’re in for a treat.  My favorite circuit rider is doing the service today.  His name is Orson Hollister, and he’s an excellent speaker.”

Bessie pushed the children through the crowd and into seats.  Hannah and Cameron sat beside them.  Hannah sat beside Annabelle who watched everything with wide, curious eyes.

Farley Goodman nodded to a woman sitting at an upright piano, and she began to play a song.  The people sang without a book; they knew the words by heart.   After a prayer that Cameron thought was far too long, Mr. Goodman introduced Orson Hollister.

Hollister peered out over the podium, a foreboding figure dressed all in black with a long, shadowy beard and a matching

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