Page 109 of Timeless

“Hello,” Agnes replied. “I only have a few minutes. Then, I must get back to work. My mother has been asking me where I’ve been disappearing off to, so I think she’s figured out something is different with me.”

“I understand,” she replied.

“I brought you some things,” Agnes added. “It’s not much; only what I knew I could get away with bringing to you. My mother nearly burned the bread, but before she could feed it to the chickens, I took it.” Agnes pulled out a small loaf of bread. “And I’ve got some other things in here, too. For you. I just have to bring the basket home.”

“Thank you,” Frances replied and took the basket. “But you don’t have to bring me food. I’m all right out here.”

“It’s… It’s a gift.”

“A gift? What for?”

“I’m leaving soon. My father returns with my future husband tomorrow, and I… I won’t be able to visit you anymore.” Tears welled in her eyes. “We’ll be leaving back to his village after that, where we’ll be married. I… I found out that he’s my father’s age and has a daughter from his first wife who died, and he needs sons, so I suspect I’ll be a mother soon.”

Frances set the basket down just inside her shelter and said, “Come inside?”

“I shouldn’t. I should get home.” Agnes wiped tears off her cheeks.

“Agnes?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye toyou, either. My time with you has been the best of my life.”

“Stay,” Frances said without thinking.

“I can’t. I told you that I have to get back before my mother–”

“No. Stay with me, Agnes.” She moved toward Agnes and took her hands.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll take care of you. Or, we’ll take care of each other. I want you to stay with me. We can go anywhere you want, find that land I’ve heard about, and build our own house there. We–”

“I can’t do that,” Agnes interrupted.

“Why not?”

“I’m supposed to marry him and have–”

“You don’t want that.”

“But it’s what’s right. Women are meant to care for their children and their husband and the home.”

“I’m a woman. I’m not meant for any of that.”

“You’re different,” Agnes said.

“How?”

“Because you–” Agnes stopped and looked down at their joined hands. “I see you looking at me sometimes when we’re here; how you… look at me. It’s…”

“How a man should look at a woman?” she asked.

“Yes,” Agnes said.

“I’ve seen you look at me the same way, Agnes.” She dropped one of her hands and cupped her cheek, daring to press her forehead to Agnes’s. “Run away with me,” she added softly. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll… be your… husband. I promise you, we will have a good life together. It might not always be easy, but it will beours.”