Read Online Violet: Bride of North Dakota (American Mail-Order Bride 39) by Heather Horrocks - Free Book Online

But men had been pouring in for the past week.
    An entire week of torture for Daniel.
    And had these men come to order furniture? Some of them, certainly. But most of them were here because the face of Lund Woodworking was now Violet, pretty and smiling and friendly. And efficient. If he could fault her work, he would have an excuse to get her out of here and back to Amelia’s house. Here, she was a torture every day, every hour, every minute.
    And he had only himself to blame. He’d been the one with the harebrained idea to show her off to the entire town so that men would come calling. And come calling they had. In droves.
    He just hadn’t realized what an insane amount of jealousy he’d have to deal with. She wasn’t his—couldn’t be his—and yet he didn’t want anyone else to have her, either.
    They’d had no fewer than ten men come in every day. Single men who took time away from their shops and snow-covered fields and the other ladies in town to meet Violet.
    While Daniel had had virtually no time alone with her at all, more’s the trouble. He drove her to work in the mornings and back home in the evenings under the northern lights, but only had the chance for a few words with her before she turned the sign on the door to OPEN and men started flooding in again.
    He hefted the first box and strode to the front door, balancing it while he pulled the door open and walking through the main room and into the back to get away from the sight.
    He kicked the door shut behind him with a solid thunk, and his father and brother looked up.
    “You’re still frowning,” said a grinning Zachary. “That must mean there are more men here to visit with our lovely new bookkeeper. Your plan is working.”
    “Shut up.” Daniel dropped the box onto the longest work bench, the one along the back wall, and cut it open.
    Then he shook his head. He needed to hit something. Picking up his hammer, he turned to look for a project that needed nails. He spotted the cedar chest and headed in that direction.
    His father came up beside him and tapped him on the back.
    When Daniel looked up in surprise, his father put his hand out for the hammer. “I think in your current mood, you need to do tasks without the potential for damage. Glue the bench.”
    “I did that yesterday.”
    “Yes, and you did such a fine job you can now do the new one we have.” He wiggled his large fingers again for the hammer. “This is fine cedar and we don’t need you hammering the dickens out of it.”
    Daniel scowled, but relinquished the tool.
    His father chuckled. “You ought to go after the girl yourself, Son, as much as you mope about because other men are not so reluctant.”
    “You know I am too old for her. She’s still a child.”
    “Not a child, Brother. A woman.” Tom’s face grew pensive. “Perhaps I will court her, myself.”
    “You will not!” Daniel thundered. “You will stay away from her.”
    “Why? She is not spoken for yet.”
    Enraged, Daniel sputtered, “I need to go to the train station and see if our order has arrived.”
    “Yes, you do that.” His father put a muscular arm about his shoulders. “And don’t hurry back. We can handle things for a while. Stop at your mother’s and eat something. Maybe that will improve your disposition.”
    Daniel scowled. “I’m not hungry.”
    “Then stop into the saloon and drink your troubles away,” Zachary suggested.
    So angry he feared he would hurt one of his idiot brothers, he put up a hand, motioning for them to stay silent, and grabbed his coat back up from the bench.
    He couldn’t even go through the front because he might hurt someone there.
    He had nearly reached the door to the back alley when his father said, “Son, would you take this to Miss Keating on your way out?”
    He stopped. Surely his father jested. But no, he pointed to a pretty box made of gleaming lacquered cherrywood.
    His face settling into a serious scowl, Daniel stomped back over and snatched up