Blessed Assurance Read Online Free PDF

long, but I’ll see to that soon.
    Lee turned back to the game. The batter had reached first base. Inning followed inning. At last, near the front of a wave of arriving schoolboys, Lee recognized Linc’s blond head. Lee lifted his hat and motioned to Linc. The lad left the other boys behind, heading to him, unexpectedly warming Lee’s heart.
    â€œMr. Smith,” Linc exclaimed with a wide smile.
    â€œLinc.” Lee offered his hand and the two shared one quick, handshake. “It’s the fourth inning.”
    Linc turned to watch. “I saw that hitter last year at a game. He always gets a run.”
    â€œThe White Stockings need it. They’re down by two.” Standing beside Linc, Lee awaited the pitch, both their attention riveted on the man at bat. It came. The bat caught the ball with a satisfying crack. Lee joined the rising crescendo of shrill enthusiastic voices and bellows urging the runner to first base. The player made it with only a second to spare. A cheer surged through the onlookers. Lee found himself grinning.
    In quick succession, two more White Stockings made it off the plate. With three men on base, the contagious excitement lifted Lee’s spirits. Then the White Stockings’ batter struck out. As though uttered by one voice, a moan went through the crowd.
    Disgusted, Linc threw his hat to the ground. “Three men on base. How could he let that pitcher strike him out?” With a rueful nod, Lee retrieved the hat and replaced it on Linc’s head.
    With his hand on Linc’s shoulder, Lee watched the game. In swift order, the White Stockings’ pitcher struck out the first two batters, but the third opponent proved to be a challenge. As the pitcher took his time reassessing the batter, Lee idly scanned the crowd and caught sight of Jessie Wagstaff approaching. Why had she come?
    A stiff black bonnet, completely without feather or ornament,covered her warm brown hair. Its black brim paled her rosy complexion. After six years, why did she still dress in deep mourning, totally in black with not even a touch of gray? Mourning clothes and her stiffly upright posture made her look older.
    For a fraction of a second he envisioned the face and form of the girl his father had recently chosen for him to marry. She was a confection of creamy white skin, rosy lips, fluffy blond hair, and fluffy ideas. To Jessie’s credit, he doubted she would ever have the kind of malleability his father had desired in a daughter-in-law.
    Like a well-aimed dart, Jessie’s dismayed glance of recognition pierced him. He bowed in her direction. Reading disapproval in the set of her chin, he prepared himself for a thorough jousting.
    The bat cracked. Lee’s glance darted back to the play. Foul ball. As Jessie reached them, the faint fragrance of lavender wafted from her. Perhaps inside the widow’s armor, a soft, feminine woman still breathed.
    Jessie stepped between Mr. Smith and her son, keeping her irritation out of her voice. This wasn’t Linc’s fault. But more exasperating was her own reaction at seeing this stranger again. She couldn’t ignore the effect his gaze had on her.
    â€œLincoln, why didn’t he run to base?”
    â€œHello, Mother. The ball went outside the boundaries of the bases. See?”
    â€œI do.” She glanced at Mr. Smith, but he said nothing. The player hit another ball that popped upward and was caught. Linc cheered as the hand-held score cards were changed. Jessie stepped behind Linc.
    Mr. Smith said, “The White Stockings are back at bat now, ma’am.”
    She looked sideways at him, out of the seclusion of her severe bonnet. Was it by coincidence or design that this man kept appearing today? Worry pinched her and she prayed silently for wisdom. Why had this man popped up in their lives? And how could she get rid of him? “You’re a baseball enthusiast, then?” She made her tone say clearly she