Bhriv

“He came back to her lips and tasted them briefly before settling his forehead against hers. “I don’t care what Grayson or his legal document says,” he muttered between catches of wind. “God’s given you to me, and as soon as He allows, I’ll claim you as my own.”
He spoke with such confidence that if she allowed herself, she could almost believe him. But with belief came hope, and with hope, the inevitability of pain.
The knocking at the door resumed, more urgently this time.
Along her throat, splotches of cool marked where he’d sampled her. Milly lamented that it was already warming. In heartbeats, all she would have was memories. And anguish. Could God truly fill the hollow Phillip would leave? Last night, His promise had filled her to the depths of her soul. It was enough. It would have to be.
With his eyes locked on hers, Phillip’s hand trailed her cheek and throat. It brushed over her shoulder and down her arm. Then, in one blink, he wiped every emotion from his face, stunning her with the callous glaze of his eyes.
He gripped her by the elbow, whisked her through the kitchen, and opened the door to her wretched future.”
― April W. Gardner, Beneath the Blackberry Moon: The Ebony Cloak

“Was there anything he wouldn’t give for an isolated cabin and one night with her? No, he didn’t imagine there was—not that he had anything left to give.
The last two things Phillip possessed he’d already bequeathed—to Milly, his heart, and to the Almighty, his vow to that he’d marry her if He would simply rearrange their circumstances to make it possible.”
― April W. Gardner, Beneath the Blackberry Moon: The Ebony Cloak

“Some of the greatest difficulties aren’t the decisions we make, but the results of them.”
― T.K. Chapin, One Sunday Drive

“With unsteady hands, Phillip yanked on the mare’s bridle straps while trying to loosen one of the stubborn buckles. She snorted at his rough handling.
Totka appeared beside him. “Let me.”
Phillip gratefully released the task, an unexpected sense of brotherhood filling him. If anyone knew the heartache of separation, it was the man whose deft brown hands readied Phillip’s mount for the long road ahead.
Totka’s own road had been lengthy. And yet, after two years, he somehow managed to continue to place one foot in front of the other. His breath still entered and left his body in the same monotonous pattern. How? When already several times over the half-day since Grayson had ridden out with Milly, Phillip had wondered if his chest might explode with the effort of expanding and contracting without her.”
― April W. Gardner, Beneath the Blackberry Moon: The Ebony Cloak