A Convenient Christmas Bride. Rhonda Gibson

accusers.

      “I can’t give you my answer right now, Josiah, but I’ll pray about it.” She lifted her hand from his and stood up. She touched his shoulder briefly. “Thank you.”

      She walked away with stiff dignity, the long skirt of her dress swaying gently. She paused just inside the door and looked back at him. For a moment she studied him intently and then she was gone.

      She’d said thank you? What on earth did that mean? He hadn’t done anything that she had to be thankful for. Had she been referring to him nursing her while she was sick? For proposing marriage to her? What? He gritted his teeth and barely suppressed a groan of frustration.

      If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never understand women. And why, Lord, didn’t You give me a more elegant way of speaking and expressing myself? One thing was for certain; Josiah hadn’t the foggiest idea what Anna Mae’s answer would be, nor when she’d tell him.