Read Online Laurel: Bride of Arkansas (American Mail-Order Bride 25) by Carra Copelin - Free Book Online Page B

wanted my independence. I refused to marry any man he picked out for me.
    “After much discussion, he agreed to let me live with my mother’s sister, Carlotta Carlisle, at her home in Lawrence, at least for a while, to get me in line. Had he known what she was up to, he never would’ve allowed it. Aunt Lottie was a member of NAWSA .”
    “What’s that?”
    “National American Woman Suffrage Association, a women’s movement.”
    Griffin chuckled. “He certainly wouldn’t have. Was your mother aware of her sister’s affiliation?”
    “I’m sure she must have been and I never realized it until this minute. I always thought my mother was ruled by my father, but Adelaide Carlisle Weidner was and is a force to be reckoned with as far as handling my father is concerned.” She grinned and shook her head. “She has the gift of being able to direct him in whatever way is the best for the family.”
    “I see.”
    “Aunt Lottie helped me develop my independence and made me feel like I had a level head on my shoulders.” She finished her coffee and set her cup and saucer on the floor between them. “Then, last July, everything changed.”
    He noticed she’d changed as well. She’d lost a bit of her spark and, for some reason unbeknownst to him, he didn’t like it. “I’m assuming that’s when your aunt died?”
    “Yes.”
    “What happened?”
    “A tornado hit Lawrence and Philadelphia, but Lawrence got the worst of it. The house was leveled, and Aunt Lottie disappeared.”
    “What do you mean, she disappeared?” He’d been through a couple of tornadoes in Texas, but he’d never heard of such a thing. People had been injured or killed, but no one had flat-out vanished.
    “I mean her body was never found. There’s not even the smallest trace that she ever existed, other than this locket.” She wrapped her fingers around the gold jewelry piece and closed her eyes apparently deep in thought.
    “I’m sorry for your loss, Laurel. I know how hard it is to lose someone you loved.” He hadn’t lied to her. While he hadn’t missed his wife after her death, he’d lost custody of his children. They’d both suffered a tragedy. “And that’s when you found my ad?”
    “Not exactly.” She glanced over at the fire, stood, and picked up their dishes. “Can we go outside to sit on the porch?”
    “Of course.” He got up and took the cups and saucers from her when she shoved them his way. “Go on, I’ll be right out.”
    “Thank you.”
    He watched her go outside. Something had her nervous and upset, and it had to do with the fire in the fireplace. What had caused her fear and how deep did this fear go? Somehow he had to figure out what he needed to do to help her work through it.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Laurel sat on the top step of the front porch. The cooler air was nice and helped her think beyond the jitters she developed every time there were open flames or closed-in rooms. She’d never talked to anyone about the fire at the mill, except for some of the women she’d worked with. She’d often wondered if Violet, Rachel, or Cora ever experienced dreams or moments of panic due to being trapped in that back room.
    She’d hoped by putting distance between herself and the burned out remains of the mill, that she’d be able to put the incident behind her. But she’d already had one episode in the parlor at the parsonage and a smaller one just now. She should tell Griffin so he’d understand her problems, but talking about that day was the most difficult thing she’d ever had to do.
    He came out and sat across from her. “Feeling better?”
    “I believe so.”
    “Good.” He looked out into the distance, obviously deep in thought, and then, as he studied a scar on his left palm, he said, “I‘ve found out through the years that it’s better to confront a problem head on rather than letting it fester. It almost always turns out worse