Grace gave a little giggle that sounded insincere from the moment it left her lips, but she kept up her smile, not wanting to disappoint Ford. She knew he was probably a wreck on the inside too, wanting to make sure it was perfect like Papa would have done. She didn't want him to give the impression she was dreading the ball he'd help put together—or worse, the impression that she was ungrateful.
But when she tried to answer the question—and she did have an answer, or she thought she did—she could only exhale one, deep, loud breath that she'd clearly been holding onto for the entire night. Her smile faltered. So much not looking ungrateful.
She wanted to reach out, to hold her hand the same way she had when she was a child and she was scared to approach the horses when they visited the stables, or when the were walking through the crowds when the fair came to town. She lifted her hand a few inches off her side but dropped it back to the skirt of her dress. "Nothing you do for me could ever disappoint," she ensured, hoping he believed it.
But when she tried to answer the question—and she did have an answer, or she thought she did—she could only exhale one, deep, loud breath that she'd clearly been holding onto for the entire night. Her smile faltered. So much not looking ungrateful.
She wanted to reach out, to hold her hand the same way she had when she was a child and she was scared to approach the horses when they visited the stables, or when the were walking through the crowds when the fair came to town. She lifted her hand a few inches off her side but dropped it back to the skirt of her dress. "Nothing you do for me could ever disappoint," she ensured, hoping he believed it.
