Read Online Della: Bride of Texas (American Mail-Order Bride 28) by Trinity Ford - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Trinity Ford
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Saga, Western, Short-Story, Texas, Religious, Christian, Inspirational, Cowboys, Bachelor, matchmaker, Marriage of Convenience, Faith, Community, victorian era, Forever Love, Single Woman, Banker, Fifty-Books, Forty-Five Authors, Newspaper Ad, American Mail-Order Bride, Factory Burned, Pioneer, Twenty-Eightth In Series, Fort Worth, Store Owner, Trouble Maker, Heartache
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respect—something as simple as a nod or tip of the hat.
“Mr. Hensley—I realize you own the General Store and that technically, I’m an employee, but that gives you no right to question me or Mr. Tidwell about our plans for the future, nor to offer your opinion on why or how I’m here.” Della’s eyes were bright with anger and she was breathing in short bursts of air.
“Sorry if I offended you, Miss Owens,” Hank offered. “I simply like to question what I have a problem understanding. And this situation is one for the books.”
“Mr. Hensley, I….” Della began.
"Looks like we're here," Hank was sure he interrupted her just as he was about to get an earful of what she thought of him. He opened the door to the bank and allowed her to pass in front of him. "The teller's right this way."
"Thank you, but I'll take my transaction directly to Mr. Tidwell," Della said, obviously trying to escape Hank's presence.
"Suit yourself," Hank shrugged.
He watched as Della made her way to Milton's office and peeked her head around the corner while he stood there listening to what she would say and watching Milton’s reaction through the glass of his office. “Surprise!" she said. "I asked Roy if I could bring today's deposit so that I could visit you a spell."
Milton’s face showed annoyance with the interruption, but he dutifully rose from his chair to greet her. “You have a deposit?” he asked, jutting his hand out to take the pouch of money from her
“Oh,” Della said, handing over the money. “Just deposit this to the General Store account.”
Milton looked up and noticed Hank standing in line for the teller again. He turned around and handed the pouch back to Della. “The teller is right this way,” he motioned, leaving Della to trail behind him.
Milton approached the line for the teller and walked straight up to Hank, who turned with a raised eyebrow as he observed Della’s incredulous look from the rude rebuff by Milton. “Need to cut in line?” Hank offered, smiling at her kindly and trying not to rub it in too bad that she’d been forced to be stuck with him after all.
“Oh, no sir,” Milton answered for her. “Let me handle your transaction for you. We hate for our very best customers to be saddled with this inconvenience.” He attempted to snatch the money bag from Hank, but Hank pulled the bag from his reach.
“Actually, Milton, I would much rather you take care of Miss Owens first. We’re very busy at the General Store and I need her back there right away,” Hank said.
“I’m perfectly fine standing in line,” Della stated, her chin jutting upwards as she tried hard to keep a stoic face.
“Why…of course, Mr. Hensley,” Milton said, his face suddenly turning red and puffy. He turned to Della, snatched the bag out of her hands and rushed around to the teller’s window.
Della gave Hank a scathing look. “Mr. Tidwell is perfectly right in wanting to please one of his best customers rather than catering to me.” I really wish you’d stop inserting your opinions into our business.
“Still,” Hank said quietly, “you have to wonder about a man who forces a woman as beautiful as you to wait in line, while giving preference to a rascal like me. Maybe in a few years, you’ll earn very best customer status, too.”
Milton returned and handed Della the deposit receipt. “Here you are,” he said. “Now run along back to Mr. Hensley’s General Store and resume your duties.”
“Milton, you have an amazing woman here,” Hank offered—ignoring Della’s demand to stay out of their business. He was staring at Della and she finally returned his gaze—eyes blazing with a look that Hank hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what the look was, but he mused that it might be gratitude.
“Why thank you, Mr. Hensley,” Milton replied pompously as if taking credit for the person Della had become over the years.
“Tell you what,” Hank suggested.
“Mr. Hensley—I realize you own the General Store and that technically, I’m an employee, but that gives you no right to question me or Mr. Tidwell about our plans for the future, nor to offer your opinion on why or how I’m here.” Della’s eyes were bright with anger and she was breathing in short bursts of air.
“Sorry if I offended you, Miss Owens,” Hank offered. “I simply like to question what I have a problem understanding. And this situation is one for the books.”
“Mr. Hensley, I….” Della began.
"Looks like we're here," Hank was sure he interrupted her just as he was about to get an earful of what she thought of him. He opened the door to the bank and allowed her to pass in front of him. "The teller's right this way."
"Thank you, but I'll take my transaction directly to Mr. Tidwell," Della said, obviously trying to escape Hank's presence.
"Suit yourself," Hank shrugged.
He watched as Della made her way to Milton's office and peeked her head around the corner while he stood there listening to what she would say and watching Milton’s reaction through the glass of his office. “Surprise!" she said. "I asked Roy if I could bring today's deposit so that I could visit you a spell."
Milton’s face showed annoyance with the interruption, but he dutifully rose from his chair to greet her. “You have a deposit?” he asked, jutting his hand out to take the pouch of money from her
“Oh,” Della said, handing over the money. “Just deposit this to the General Store account.”
Milton looked up and noticed Hank standing in line for the teller again. He turned around and handed the pouch back to Della. “The teller is right this way,” he motioned, leaving Della to trail behind him.
Milton approached the line for the teller and walked straight up to Hank, who turned with a raised eyebrow as he observed Della’s incredulous look from the rude rebuff by Milton. “Need to cut in line?” Hank offered, smiling at her kindly and trying not to rub it in too bad that she’d been forced to be stuck with him after all.
“Oh, no sir,” Milton answered for her. “Let me handle your transaction for you. We hate for our very best customers to be saddled with this inconvenience.” He attempted to snatch the money bag from Hank, but Hank pulled the bag from his reach.
“Actually, Milton, I would much rather you take care of Miss Owens first. We’re very busy at the General Store and I need her back there right away,” Hank said.
“I’m perfectly fine standing in line,” Della stated, her chin jutting upwards as she tried hard to keep a stoic face.
“Why…of course, Mr. Hensley,” Milton said, his face suddenly turning red and puffy. He turned to Della, snatched the bag out of her hands and rushed around to the teller’s window.
Della gave Hank a scathing look. “Mr. Tidwell is perfectly right in wanting to please one of his best customers rather than catering to me.” I really wish you’d stop inserting your opinions into our business.
“Still,” Hank said quietly, “you have to wonder about a man who forces a woman as beautiful as you to wait in line, while giving preference to a rascal like me. Maybe in a few years, you’ll earn very best customer status, too.”
Milton returned and handed Della the deposit receipt. “Here you are,” he said. “Now run along back to Mr. Hensley’s General Store and resume your duties.”
“Milton, you have an amazing woman here,” Hank offered—ignoring Della’s demand to stay out of their business. He was staring at Della and she finally returned his gaze—eyes blazing with a look that Hank hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what the look was, but he mused that it might be gratitude.
“Why thank you, Mr. Hensley,” Milton replied pompously as if taking credit for the person Della had become over the years.
“Tell you what,” Hank suggested.
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