The Pepper in the Gumbo (Men of Cane River #1)(96)

He stood up, gathering her close. She felt her parents’ rings against her chest, warmed between them, a connection that was broken and then repaired by grace and generosity.

Paul leaned back, took the ring from the box and reached for her hand. “The heavens and the earth have set you a most serious work, a most necessary work,” he said, quoting another line of the poem. Alice nodded, her throat tightening with the words. Aurora Leigh believed she had work to do and Alice believed it, too. Keeping By the Book open to the people of Cane River was important and Paul saw it as clearly as Alice did.

“But the real question is whether you’re willing to share shelf space. You know our books might not get along,” he said, his mouthing tilting up.

Alice looked down at the round ruby inset into gold, and smiled as he slid it onto her finger. “I think the answer might be separate book cases.” She leaned back, looking him in the eye. “Paul, are you really sure? We’ve had such a rocky start.”

“You put the pepper in the gumbo, Alice. I wouldn’t give you up for anything in the world,” he said, laughing. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her hair.

She closed her eyes, reveling in that perfect moment. Paul whispered something in her ear, familiar words from the language of her childhood, words that she didn’t quite catch but that her heart understood all the same. It seemed impossible that his love had been waiting for her all those years, and one day she’d woken up, and he was there, the way it was always meant to be.