Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,39

hard to answer. Maybe the watcher had witnessed the kiss they’d shared that morning.

Ridge struggled to breathe inside his tightening chest, his mouth drying.

Even now, the bastard could have his silent wife in his sights.

And she wouldn’t be able to scream.

* * *

Later that evening, a long, full day behind them, Ridge, Addie, and Bodie sat around the supper table. It felt comfortable, like they’d done it a million times before. Ridge’s gaze lingered on Addie. She’d made big strides that day toward regaining not only her voice, but her independence.

“You fixed a mighty fine meal, Addie. Can’t beat fried potatoes, greens, and ham.”

Her cheeks colored a nice rosy pink, and she gave him a wide smile.

“I was thinking that after we finish, we might sing in the parlor. Would you be willing?”

She nodded and manipulated her fingers to mimic knitting. Then she opened her hands like a book and pointed to him.

“Yes, after we sing, I’ll read. I’m anxious myself to get back to the story.” He explained the book to Bodie. “Maybe I’ll take a break and let you read.”

Bodie ducked his head and mumbled, “I never learned my letters.”

“What grade did you get to in school?”

“Never been.” The kid stared off into space. “All my relations said I was too dumb for learning, and the only choice left for someone like me was working.” His face tightened. “But they didn’t fool me. They took all my money—for room and board, they said. And if I didn’t work, they got nothing.”

A muscle in Ridge’s jaw tightened. “You’re not dumb, Bodie. What do you think about going to school now?”

“Too old. I’d be a laughingstock.”

Yeah, he was probably right.

Ridge scooted his plate back and propped his elbows on the table. “What if I teach you here in private?”

“I’d like that. It’s downright embarrassing not to be able to sign my own name.”

Addie scribbled something on her paper and handed it to Ridge. “I taught school for a few years. I could help.”

Ridge reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers gratefully. Finally, she was starting to open up about her life. “I didn’t know that. You’ll be a huge benefit. My knowledge is somewhat limited, and the boy needs to learn more than to read and write. He needs to be able to count and cipher and all that other stuff.”

He helped Addie with the dishes, loving the quiet closeness of being with her. Their hands touched frequently as they passed the dishes back and forth, each brush sending a jolt of awareness through him. He liked it so much, he started doing it on purpose.

Little by little, he was learning his wife. Quite a few things surprised him, especially her willingness to try Dr. Mary’s suggestions. She truly wanted to speak again. It brought hope to see her put her fighting spirit towards recovering her voice. He could see in her eyes how much she yearned to rejoin life. Going to see the doctor today could be the best thing they’d done so far, and it had all been Addie’s idea.

The pair of denims she’d chosen at the last minute at the mercantile crossed his mind, and heat climbed up his neck. When she put those on, he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep what sense he had about him. Rebel Lassiter wore them and he’d never felt a thing, but there again, she was only a friend.

Once they finished with the dishes, Addie tended to the wound on his upper arm, cleaning, and dabbing on a salve the doctor had given them. He closed his eyes and soaked in her caring touch, pretending she wasn’t afraid to come to their bed. For a second, he imagined her fingertips running the length of his naked body. To be touched like that would be heaven. He’d been with painted women some, but lying with a wife would be very different.

Very different in so many ways. Heat built in his stomach.

After Addie wrapped his wound, they went to the parlor and sang two songs. He was happy to hear Addie hum along. Then he reached for Oliver Twist and read while she pulled out her yarn, the needles clicking away. She and Bodie rolled the hanks of wool into three balls—brown, gold, and green. He didn’t know what she had in mind to make, but the colors were pretty.

The kitten grabbed the colorful spun wool and managed to wrap itself up in a tangled mess. Miss Kitty swatted