Marissa stopped in front of the Winston house, her heart pounding. Would Grant be pleased to see her? Or had his expressed desire to continue to see her changed now that he’d had time to think about their situation? He had said it would be a few days before he would be able to come back to Chautauqua. It had been five. And she had been too busy with lectures and meetings with women who wanted advice on starting temperance groups and meetings for teachers and speakers called by the Chautauqua leaders to make the trip to Mayville. And now...well, now here she was, doubts, nerves and all. She looked down at the folded scarf in her hands, adjusted the small “thank you” sachet on the top and hoped again that Mrs. Winston liked lavender. A pat of her curls and a quick smooth of the long skirt of her dark gray day dress gave her a bit more confidence. She straightened her back and shoulders and walked up the stone path to the inviting, vine-covered porch, trepidation in every step.
