Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,17

shook her head.

“It’ll be fine,” he replied. “Hell, I don’t know how either, but I’ll bet we figure it out.”

Tally lent gentle support. “Give it a try, dear. None of us are experts. It’s the custom to dance with your new husband.”

Finally, Adeline forced a smile and gamely took his hand. Her body had the tension of someone walking the gallows’ steps. “Relax. I won’t bite. Listen to the music.”

She stared up at him and came into his arms, her body warm against him. Slowly she began to relax.

The waltz was a beautiful dance and his favorite, but he wanted to put her more at ease. “We’ll just stand here and sway to the music if it’s okay with you. My knee’s been acting up.”

The suggestion seemed to take the pressure off. She relaxed and moved in his arms to the sweet strains of the fiddle. The fragrance of wild roses and sage drifted on the breeze as the musicians filled the air with song.

Ridge lowered his head, resting his cheek against her soft blond hair. “We won’t stay long, just enough to keep from being rude. These people are our friends, and they’re happy we found each other. I’ve been a bachelor for a long time.” He chuckled. “The ladies think I need a woman to take me firmly in hand. Don’t know where they got that notion. The least I can do is show my appreciation for the midnight oil they must’ve wasted on putting this shindig together.”

His pretty wife leaned back, staring up into his eyes, a solemn expression on her face. She stopped moving and pulled her hand from his, placed her palm over his heart.

“You saying I have a good heart?”

She nodded and gave him a brilliant smile that took his breath.

“We might just work out a sign language before you know it.” Suddenly, he knew they’d be okay even if she never spoke aloud again. Clay had been right in suggesting the best communication didn’t involve words.

The feel of her lips under his would forever remain in his head.

They waltzed twice more, and the third time, Adeline caught the hang of the wide, sweeping circles. Her eyes sparkled, and her face glowed with happiness. He’d wager that this was probably the most fun she’d ever had. But she was getting tired, and her feet began to drag.

“Let’s go home.” He rested a hand lightly on the small of her back and led her to the horses. Well-wishers followed the couple, laughing and pelting them with rice.

Ridge took the long way, pointing out some things, showing her the parcels of land he was selling at the land office. Heeding Clay’s advice, he spoke in a soft tone so she could get used to his voice. He talked about what he hoped to accomplish—and a little of his fears.

Not enough to frighten her. Shielding her from those was foremost in his mind.

“I have dreams, Adeline, but whether or not I achieve them depends on things I cannot control.” He reached for her small hand. “The law tends to leave us alone for the most part, but occasionally they ride in with warrants. How long I’ll escape their notice is anyone’s guess.”

She tried to reply but the words wouldn’t form. He kicked himself that he forgot to bring some paper and a pencil, because her thoughts were important.

“It’s okay, I have plenty of time.” He kissed her fingers. “I’m just glad you came.”

Her nod came first, followed by the kind of smile that made him happy to be alive.

Finally, he turned the buggy toward their home and helped her down at the front door as the sunset provided quite a show of purple and orange streaks across the wide prairie sky.

“Go on inside. I’ll take care of the horses and get them bedded down. I’ll bring your trunk in when I’m done.”

Adeline nodded and turned. Still silent, still haunted by whatever had happened to her. But she had smiled several times today, and that huge improvement gave him hope.

When he returned with the trunk, the aroma of coffee filled the air. The welcome surprise nearly knocked him down. He saw no sign of her and didn’t know where else to set her things except at the place she’d chosen under the stairs, so he left the trunk there. The door was closed, but he imagined that was where she’d gone. Sadness pushed out his earlier optimism. Was this to be permanent, her drifting through the rooms like