“You’re plannin’ on bein’ my wife, then?”My hand was shaking holding the coffee pot and he put his own hand over mine to steady it. He slowly wrapped his fingers around the handle and set the kettle down over the fire, then gripped my hand with his rough one. He cupped my chin with his other hand and lifted it until my eyes met his.
“You’re plannin’ on bein’ my wife, then?” he repeated softly.
A lump caught in my throat and I stared at him, unable to move.
“Yes?” he asked, his eyes wide.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his, and then my mouth slowly formed the word: “yes.”