Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,12

profession.

Maybe if he got rid of this dark cloud hanging over him…

He couldn’t tell anything by Adeline’s expression—whether she liked the room or not. Joy did, however, leap to her face when he showed her the bathing room.

“You only have to turn this knob, and you have hot water.” He leaned over to demonstrate. “And there’s no lugging the water outside when you finish. Just lift this stopper, and it drains right out into the yard.”

There was no mistaking her happiness and he was glad he could put that smile on her lips. She turned for the stairs, and he followed her down. At the bottom, she opened a small door to a little enclosed space under the stairwell. Her eyes lit up as though she’d found buried treasure.

Ridge ducked through the door. “This is just empty space. Not sure what to do with it.”

Adeline fiercely scribbled the word “Mine” on a piece of paper.

“Sure, whatever you want. I can put a bench in here, but I don’t think it’s large enough for a bed.” He frowned. Did she mean to sleep under the stairs? He wasn’t sure how much he’d like that.

But for someone who’d been living in a tiny cell for three years, maybe a room this size felt normal. It’s possible she was more damaged than he’d thought. And if she wanted a bed in there, he’d damn sure make one fit. Somehow.

She took the piece of paper from him and wrote “Safe,” then shoved it to his chest again.

Her forceful claim of the space rattled what little calm he’d managed to gather. The wounded bird had found her nest. God help him, he and this airless room would keep her safe until she gathered strength to fly.

Four

A summer storm rolled in while Addie and Ridge ate supper in the Blue Goose Café. The sky opened and in came a gully washer amid rumbling thunder that sounded like apples falling from a wagon. Lord knew they needed all the water they could get this time of year. While they ate, Ridge watched his bride. She seemed ill at ease when folks stopped by their table to congratulate them, so he did all the talking as though it were perfectly normal and invited each to the wedding.

He could almost see her ticking off the minutes in her head until she could escape to the privacy of her hotel room. But he was too. He itched to get this wedding over. Only after that could they settle into some semblance of a routine. He’d be occupied enough keeping her safe from the men who hunted her. He prayed they’d show up here. The corner of his mouth tightened. They wouldn’t much like their reception. He ground his back teeth so hard, he thought he cracked one. His preacher’s softness had long vanished. He’d learned from his outlaw friends how to make someone sorry they’d been born.

Also, he had his land office to run, and it seemed like new folks were arriving every day. He meant to speak to Clay about clearing the rubble from the back entrance to town. A few years ago, as a matter of defense, they’d blown the rocks and collapsed the passage, but it was past time now to clear it and make the main street a thoroughfare. That would eliminate the clogs that often occurred at the single entrance and exit.

Adeline picked at her food and jumped at every loud noise.

“It’s all right.” Ridge started to touch her hand but didn’t want to risk making another mistake, so he stopped and just spoke softly. “Nothing to worry about, but we’ll hurry and get out of here.”

The flicker of a smile on her lips revealed her relief. He held her chair, and they moved to the door. Rain was coming down in sheets. He didn’t waste a second in removing his frock coat and putting it over her head. Thank goodness it wasn’t that far to the hotel. Once they reached the protection of the overhang in front of the businesses, they’d be fine.

“Ready?” he asked.

Her green eyes sparkled under the café’s lamplight, and he decided then and there that she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. She nodded, and a bit of a smile formed.

Even though they walked fast, he was soaked by the time they reached the overhang and she handed him back his coat. She scowled at the way his wet shirt plastered to his skin and tried to pluck it