Read Online Grace: Bride of Montana (American Mail-Order Bride 41) by Debra Holland - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Debra Holland
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Saga, Montana, Western, Short-Story, Religious, Christian, Inspirational, disaster, Bachelor, Marriage of Convenience, Faith, victorian era, Forever Love, Single Woman, Fifty-Books, Forty-Five Authors, Newspaper Ad, American Mail-Order Bride, Factory Burned, Pioneer, Forty-One In Series, Practical, Life Planned, Perfect Husband, No Choice, Imperfect Man
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live or die.” He swallowed with an audible gulp.
Frey groaned, slid down farther in the pew, and dropped his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Why am I doing this?”
Seth kissed the top of his son’s head. “Because, hopefully, the fearful times and the times when you suffer pain and hardship are few in comparison to those of love and joy and the day-to-day companionship of building a life together. Grace and your children will bring new meaning to your life beyond what you ever could have imagined.”
Frey let out a long breath. “That’s a lot for a man to take in.”
“Even now, four and a half years later, there are days when I walk into the house for dinner and I still feel grateful for the warm welcome I know I’ll receive and the wonderful meal that will be waiting. I had too many years without.”
I want that experience, too.
Seth nudged him, waggling his eyebrows, in an apparent ploy to change the mood. “Not to mention our nights together, and that’s all I’m going to say!”
The appearance of Reverend Norton carrying a book had both men sitting up straight and spared Frey more serious discussions about marriage—a good thing, because he wasn’t sure he could stand any more of Seth’s revelations. Best get the whole shebang over with. If he had to do too much more thinking, he might give in to the inchin’ in his feet and hightail it out of the church.
Wouldn’t that be a sight, big Frey Foster loping down the street as if his breeches were afire?
“Has Mr. Flanigan been preparing you for the wedding?” the minister asked Frey.
Both men stood to answer.
Seth turned his head slightly, so the good reverend wouldn’t see him wink at Frey. “Doing my best, sir.” He continued rubbing the back of his sleepy son.
“Well, from my brief counsel with Miss Dickinson, I find her to be sensible, proficient in homemaking skills, with an educated mind and a serious disposition—”
Serious? The woman I’d just met didn’t seem to have a serious disposition. Frey wondered what the two had discussed to give the minister that impression but didn’t figure it was his place to ask.
“However….”
The minister’s pause caught Frey’s attention.
“I know she and I had just met, and circumstances such as these are trying….” Reverend Norton gave a slight shrug. “I had an impression of her being a reserved woman. And you, Mr. Foster, are quite the opposite. The differences in your natures might cause a misunderstanding or two…. Bah. ” He moved a hand in an impatient gesture. “I’m not doing well at putting my finger on what concerns me, so I will just counsel patience. Know that my door—” his smile softened his austere features “—as well as my wife’s kitchen are always open to both of you.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Reverend Norton,” Frey rejoined, striving to keep his voice even, “I’ve seen that study of yours, and I barely fit inside. So I’ll take the kitchen.”
The minister laughed as Frey had hoped. “The ladies are only a few minutes behind me, so we should prepare to start. Mr. Flanigan, would you escort the bride up the aisle?”
Seth looked startled, and then he clapped a hand on Frey’s arm. “I’d be honored.” He rubbed his chin across the top of the baby’s head. “George and I will go find the ladies.”
No sooner had he left the church than Mrs. Norton hurried inside and up the aisle to them. “Such a beautiful bride you have, Mr. Foster.” She sighed. “The only drawback to playing the music for the processional is, I will not see your face when you set eyes on her.”
Frey found his heartbeat kicking up in anticipation of seeing Grace.
Reverend Norton motioned him to stand in front of the altar near the aisle.
Mrs. Norton moved to the piano in the corner, selected music from inside the bench, and propped the sheet on the rack before taking a seat.
Trudy Flanigan came in next, carrying George and beaming. “Oh,
Frey groaned, slid down farther in the pew, and dropped his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Why am I doing this?”
Seth kissed the top of his son’s head. “Because, hopefully, the fearful times and the times when you suffer pain and hardship are few in comparison to those of love and joy and the day-to-day companionship of building a life together. Grace and your children will bring new meaning to your life beyond what you ever could have imagined.”
Frey let out a long breath. “That’s a lot for a man to take in.”
“Even now, four and a half years later, there are days when I walk into the house for dinner and I still feel grateful for the warm welcome I know I’ll receive and the wonderful meal that will be waiting. I had too many years without.”
I want that experience, too.
Seth nudged him, waggling his eyebrows, in an apparent ploy to change the mood. “Not to mention our nights together, and that’s all I’m going to say!”
The appearance of Reverend Norton carrying a book had both men sitting up straight and spared Frey more serious discussions about marriage—a good thing, because he wasn’t sure he could stand any more of Seth’s revelations. Best get the whole shebang over with. If he had to do too much more thinking, he might give in to the inchin’ in his feet and hightail it out of the church.
Wouldn’t that be a sight, big Frey Foster loping down the street as if his breeches were afire?
“Has Mr. Flanigan been preparing you for the wedding?” the minister asked Frey.
Both men stood to answer.
Seth turned his head slightly, so the good reverend wouldn’t see him wink at Frey. “Doing my best, sir.” He continued rubbing the back of his sleepy son.
“Well, from my brief counsel with Miss Dickinson, I find her to be sensible, proficient in homemaking skills, with an educated mind and a serious disposition—”
Serious? The woman I’d just met didn’t seem to have a serious disposition. Frey wondered what the two had discussed to give the minister that impression but didn’t figure it was his place to ask.
“However….”
The minister’s pause caught Frey’s attention.
“I know she and I had just met, and circumstances such as these are trying….” Reverend Norton gave a slight shrug. “I had an impression of her being a reserved woman. And you, Mr. Foster, are quite the opposite. The differences in your natures might cause a misunderstanding or two…. Bah. ” He moved a hand in an impatient gesture. “I’m not doing well at putting my finger on what concerns me, so I will just counsel patience. Know that my door—” his smile softened his austere features “—as well as my wife’s kitchen are always open to both of you.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Reverend Norton,” Frey rejoined, striving to keep his voice even, “I’ve seen that study of yours, and I barely fit inside. So I’ll take the kitchen.”
The minister laughed as Frey had hoped. “The ladies are only a few minutes behind me, so we should prepare to start. Mr. Flanigan, would you escort the bride up the aisle?”
Seth looked startled, and then he clapped a hand on Frey’s arm. “I’d be honored.” He rubbed his chin across the top of the baby’s head. “George and I will go find the ladies.”
No sooner had he left the church than Mrs. Norton hurried inside and up the aisle to them. “Such a beautiful bride you have, Mr. Foster.” She sighed. “The only drawback to playing the music for the processional is, I will not see your face when you set eyes on her.”
Frey found his heartbeat kicking up in anticipation of seeing Grace.
Reverend Norton motioned him to stand in front of the altar near the aisle.
Mrs. Norton moved to the piano in the corner, selected music from inside the bench, and propped the sheet on the rack before taking a seat.
Trudy Flanigan came in next, carrying George and beaming. “Oh,
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