Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,18
a ghost? Were they doomed to live separately in the same house? He didn’t know if he could take that.
Upstairs, the bedroom showed no sign she’d been there. He followed the aroma tickling his nose back down, pausing to put his ear to the door of her little space. No sounds came from inside. Maybe she’d gone to sleep.
As he filled his cup from the coffeepot in the kitchen, he heard the faint meows of a cat. Curious, he opened the door that led onto the back stoop and found Adeline sitting on the top step, holding a small kitten. A yellow mama cat sat in front of her, calmly grooming herself. Adeline startled and glanced up at him, pure joy lining her face. You’d think someone had given her a fortune in gold dust, not a scrap of yellow fur.
Maybe they had.
Careful not to slosh his coffee, he stepped out and settled beside her. “Thank you for making this. I love the stuff any time of day. You did a great job too.”
Adeline put her fingers flat to her lips, then brought them out toward him.
“What are you saying?”
She did it again and then once more, clearly frustrated.
“Hold on a second.” He went in the house and came back a moment later with paper and pencil.
She wrote: “I was saying thank you for the compliment. I’m glad it tastes all right. I haven’t made it in a long while.”
“It’s the best I’ve had.” Ridge took another sip. “I’m happy you’re making yourself at home.”
Addie bent over her paper then handed it to him. “I want to know your rules.”
Shock rippled through him. He set his coffee down and stared into the distance, an ache in his chest. The question, as well as her look of defiance, rattled his calm. “I have none,” he answered quietly. “I’m not your keeper. Feel free to do whatever you want here—all of this is yours. Do as you wish, come and go as you please.”
It was her turn to look surprised. She wrote: “You will never own me.”
“No one owns you! Not me. Not anyone. Don’t you get it? You’re free.” Anger rose and sharpened his tone, which he instantly regretted. He’d already broken one of his vows to never raise his voice to her. Dammit! But just the thought that someone had planted that notion in her head made him see red.
It would take time to sink in that she was a free woman. Maybe if he repeated it each day, she’d come to believe.
Silence grew thick between them as Ridge worked hard to rein in his temper. Adeline focused on the kitten, holding it against her cheek. When at last she met his gaze, her pretty green eyes were large, but at least he couldn’t see any fear in them.
“I apologize for that outburst, but I don’t hold with the thought of anyone owning another. Why would you say that? Who put that drivel in your head?”
She lowered the kitten and picked up the pencil. “My father. He owned all of us.”
Everything inside Ridge stilled. What had she gone through—even before prison? And what in God’s name had they accused her of?
“My mother says a husband owns his wife.”
The mama cat brushed against his pant leg, her tail curling around it. He stared down at the new scribbles, heartsick. “Adeline, I don’t know how you lived before, but here you’ll always be free. Your voice is as loud as mine.”
She hugged the kitten, gazing out at the barren landscape. He could feel the war going on inside her. Would they be able to come to a point where she could trust him and believe what he said?
“Where did you live before prison? Do you still have family?”
Her face froze. She wrote “NO” in bold letters, breaking the pencil lead with the force of her press, and jumped to her feet. Clutching the kitten to her breast, she opened the door to the kitchen.
“Adeline, those are…” She vanished inside before he finished lamely, “…outside cats.”
The mama cat barely made it in after her before the door slammed, leaving Ridge alone in silence.
Hell!
He’d asked too much, too soon. Judging from her reaction, her life must’ve been a nightmare. Thick anger choked him. If she wanted to turn the house into a wild animal sanctuary, if she needed life around her, he wouldn’t object.
Ridge stood and walked to the barn. Physical labor was what he needed—the harder the better. Maybe dig another well, much