Read Online Heartbreak Creek by Kaki Warner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kaki Warner
Ads: Link
outdoors, in the woods, in the cold, in their clothes and in the presence of a strange man was as natural for two gently reared southern ladies as taking the next breath.
Edwina clapped her hands over her mouth but couldn’t stop the laughter from coming. And coming.
Declan didn’t consider himself a humorless man. He liked a joke now and again and had even participated in a prank or two in his time. Granted, things had been a bit dire of late, with cattle prices dropping and water holes drying up and four rambunctious children to raise, but he hadn’t forgotten how to smile, no matter what his friend Thomas Redstone said. He’d even managed to maintain his good humor and not let his dismay show when he first saw his bride that morning on the boardwalk outside the Heartbreak Creek Hotel.
Definitely not the sturdy farm woman he’d envisioned, but a bedraggled, rail-thin beauty in a ridiculous hat, who appeared every bit as shocked and disappointed in him as he was in her.
It had been an awkward meeting. The entire day had been awkward. And now, after it was too late to back out of this proxy marriage short of a time-and-money-wasting annulment that would leave some slick-haired lawyer richer and him poorer, he was finding that in addition to being nothing like the woman he had bargained for, his new wife was also clearly unstable. Nobody with good sense ever laughed this long for no reason on purpose.
“Mr. Brodie,” the mulatto woman, Prudence Lincoln, said at his shoulder. “I think we’d better stop.”
He eyed his bride, who was muttering behind her hands and rocking to and fro on the seat beside him. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I think she . . . ah, swallowed a bug.”
Hell. Transferring the leathers to his left hand, he reached back with his right to pound her back.
Prudence Lincoln grabbed his arm. “I don’t think you should do that, sir,” she said, her eyes round in her light brown face. “That is to say, I think she’s coughed it out already.”
Relieved, he withdrew his arm and faced forward again.
His wife continued to rock and mutter.
“But I still think we should stop. Sir.”
Hiding his impatience, Declan looked around. Seeing that they had pulled alongside a small clearing with a tiny creek running through it, he reined in the team. He glanced at his wife and was relieved to see she was no longer hiding her face and had recovered somewhat. “How’s this?”
She turned her head and gave him an odd, glassy-eyed smile. “Oh, this is delightful. Perfect. Everything I could have dreamed.” She started to say more, but her traveling companion gripped her shoulder, and not gently, he noted.
“This will be fine, Mr. Brodie,” Prudence Lincoln said. “This’ll be just fine.”
Declan couldn’t help but notice the mulatto was a beautiful woman. And judging by that lively sparkle in her brown eyes, a smart woman, too. But he saw kindness there, as well, and obvious concern for his odd little wife. So he nodded and turned the team. He was tired of sitting, too.
After pulling off the road, he unhitched the horses, rubbed them down with a scrap of burlap, then led them to the creek. Once they’d taken their fill, he staked them so they could graze and went back to the wagon.
The women, who were engaged in a tense, whispered conversation, abruptly fell quiet when he drew near and watched in silence as he moved boxes and sacks and kegs of sundry ranch supplies to the front of the wagon so they would have more room in back. Gathering the blankets he’d brought from home, he held them out.
They snatched them up and immediately set to work, fluffing hay so vigorously they were soon coughing on dust and speckled with chaff.
Shaking his head, Declan went to find firewood. The sun was almost down and the air was cooling fast. If he didn’t hurry, it would be too dark to hunt. Moving quickly, he gathered enough wood to last through the night, piled it in the middle of the
Edwina clapped her hands over her mouth but couldn’t stop the laughter from coming. And coming.
Declan didn’t consider himself a humorless man. He liked a joke now and again and had even participated in a prank or two in his time. Granted, things had been a bit dire of late, with cattle prices dropping and water holes drying up and four rambunctious children to raise, but he hadn’t forgotten how to smile, no matter what his friend Thomas Redstone said. He’d even managed to maintain his good humor and not let his dismay show when he first saw his bride that morning on the boardwalk outside the Heartbreak Creek Hotel.
Definitely not the sturdy farm woman he’d envisioned, but a bedraggled, rail-thin beauty in a ridiculous hat, who appeared every bit as shocked and disappointed in him as he was in her.
It had been an awkward meeting. The entire day had been awkward. And now, after it was too late to back out of this proxy marriage short of a time-and-money-wasting annulment that would leave some slick-haired lawyer richer and him poorer, he was finding that in addition to being nothing like the woman he had bargained for, his new wife was also clearly unstable. Nobody with good sense ever laughed this long for no reason on purpose.
“Mr. Brodie,” the mulatto woman, Prudence Lincoln, said at his shoulder. “I think we’d better stop.”
He eyed his bride, who was muttering behind her hands and rocking to and fro on the seat beside him. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I think she . . . ah, swallowed a bug.”
Hell. Transferring the leathers to his left hand, he reached back with his right to pound her back.
Prudence Lincoln grabbed his arm. “I don’t think you should do that, sir,” she said, her eyes round in her light brown face. “That is to say, I think she’s coughed it out already.”
Relieved, he withdrew his arm and faced forward again.
His wife continued to rock and mutter.
“But I still think we should stop. Sir.”
Hiding his impatience, Declan looked around. Seeing that they had pulled alongside a small clearing with a tiny creek running through it, he reined in the team. He glanced at his wife and was relieved to see she was no longer hiding her face and had recovered somewhat. “How’s this?”
She turned her head and gave him an odd, glassy-eyed smile. “Oh, this is delightful. Perfect. Everything I could have dreamed.” She started to say more, but her traveling companion gripped her shoulder, and not gently, he noted.
“This will be fine, Mr. Brodie,” Prudence Lincoln said. “This’ll be just fine.”
Declan couldn’t help but notice the mulatto was a beautiful woman. And judging by that lively sparkle in her brown eyes, a smart woman, too. But he saw kindness there, as well, and obvious concern for his odd little wife. So he nodded and turned the team. He was tired of sitting, too.
After pulling off the road, he unhitched the horses, rubbed them down with a scrap of burlap, then led them to the creek. Once they’d taken their fill, he staked them so they could graze and went back to the wagon.
The women, who were engaged in a tense, whispered conversation, abruptly fell quiet when he drew near and watched in silence as he moved boxes and sacks and kegs of sundry ranch supplies to the front of the wagon so they would have more room in back. Gathering the blankets he’d brought from home, he held them out.
They snatched them up and immediately set to work, fluffing hay so vigorously they were soon coughing on dust and speckled with chaff.
Shaking his head, Declan went to find firewood. The sun was almost down and the air was cooling fast. If he didn’t hurry, it would be too dark to hunt. Moving quickly, he gathered enough wood to last through the night, piled it in the middle of the
Similar Books
