Sunlight streamed through windows framed by curtains that matched the napkin stretched across his lap. Joe looked across the table at Bess Jones, a vision in blue gingham, and wondered whether the pretty girl had forgotten how to smile. She’d certainly seemed unhappy when he slid into the Jones family pew at church this morning. When he sang, she frowned. And on the ride back from town she’d failed to appreciate the fact he’d arrived in a buggy rather than on horseback, something he’d done just to make her grin. She’d only ridden beside him because her pa insisted. It was enough to make a man think he’d lost his ability to woo a woman. Not that he was trying to do that, of course, though it did wound him a bit when she missed his attempt to help her from the carriage and stepped right past him. “Didn’t the reverend have a nice sermon, Joe?” Mrs. Klein asked as she dabbed at her chin with her napkin. “Yes, ma’am,” Joe said. “I’ve heard some preaching in my day but today was exceptional.” He slid Bess a glance and noticed she seemed to be studying him.
