Stolen Moments

She frequently reflected on the wonder of love, fully aware that it was inherently a risk. Entrusting your entire heart to someone else's hands, believing they would treat it gently, represented the greatest act of faith a person could undertake—knowing all along that love might endure, yet the rhythm of another’s heartbeat would one day cease.

Amber had always dreamed of being a wife and mother, a longing shaped by her upbringing in the South in 1860, where such roles defined a woman’s worth. At nineteen, she met Thomas, a charming farmer with a quick smile and promises of a steady life. They married under the sprawling oaks of his family’s land in Georgia, and for a while, Amber believed her dreams had come true. But Thomas’s charm masked a temper that flared like a summer storm. He drank too much, and his hands, once gentle, grew heavy with cruelty. By the time their son was born, Amber’s days were shadowed by bruises and fear.

One sweltering afternoon, while fetching water from the creek, she met Isaiah, a man working the fields nearby. His quiet strength and kind eyes drew her in, a stark contrast to the chaos of her home. They spoke in stolen moments—by the creek, under the cover of dusk—until words turned to longing, and longing to love. Isaiah saw her not as a possession, but as a soul, and Amber felt alive again. She knew the danger: a white woman and a Black man in 1860 risked everything—his life, her reputation, their future. Yet, in his arms, she glimpsed a freedom she’d never known, even as Thomas’s shadow loomed larger with every passing day.....to be continued