“Not in front of anyone,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Thank you,” he said. “I would prefer you call me Zeke, unless you are angry with me. Then you will call me Mr. Titan.”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“I am predicting.” He picked up his spoon. “What do you think of our small town?”

“I adore it,” she said, grateful for the safer topic of conversation. “There is so much life here. Building a community takes work, yet all are willing to help. The children are bright and earnest and healthy. There is air to breathe and clear skies.” She glanced at him. “I believe the town is named after your family.”

Zeke hesitated only a second before nodding. “Where are you from?”

“Baltimore.”

“I heard you are a widow. I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. My husband has been gone nearly five years. The sharpness of his absence has dulled a little, although I still miss him.”

“Five years is a long time to be alone. How did you meet?”

She sipped at the soup, then put down her spoon. The memory was a happy one. “Wesley taught English literature. He was giving a lecture. My mother didn’t want me to attend. She thought I spent too much time reading and didn’t put enough effort into finding a husband. But she finally agreed and off I went. He read from Shakespeare with such passion, the words came alive. I never wanted the evening to end. Afterward, there was a reception. I was too shy to speak to him.”

She smiled at the recollection, of how she’d hovered at the edges of the room, speaking to the people she knew, trying to both watch Wesley and not be seen as watching.