Read Online Montana Bride by Joan Johnston - Free Book Online Page B

her, even if it was only his hands at her waist to set her on a horse. It wasn’t her fault Dennis had walked with her and talked to her. He couldn’t help being charming and entertaining and handsome.
    She’d ignored her feelings of attraction as best she could because she knew the consequences of jealousy. Unless Karl could read her mind, there was no reason for him to feel suspicious, because his friend had done nothing wrong.
    “You said in your letters that you were a competent horsewoman,” Karl said. “Are you all right on that mount?”
    Hetty realized that Grace must have written in one of her letters to Karl that his mail-order bride knew how to ride, and he wanted to confirm that she actually could. Hetty didn’t blame him for checking. Karl might not be handsome, but he was a long way from stupid. Hetty wondered how long she and the two children were going to get away with all the lies they’d told.
    Luckily, before the Great Chicago Fire, Hetty had spent long hours riding with her twin in Lincoln Park, which was renamed after the assassinated president. “I can ride,” she said.
    “Then let’s go.”
    Karl kicked his horse into an easy lope, and Hetty did the same, keeping pace with him.
    “Did you have a nice talk with Dennis?” he asked.
    “He told a lot of funny stories. About you.”
    Karl eyed her askance. “That must have been entertaining.”
    Hetty lifted her chin and said, “It was.” She wasn’t going to apologize for enjoying Dennis’s banter. Karl could learn a thing or two from his friend. Hetty shivered and decided the cold was more noticeable because she was moving faster on horseback, or perhaps because the wagon was no longer cutting off the brisk wind.
    “You need a warmer coat,” Karl said.
    “It seems so,” she agreed. Hetty waited for Karl to continue the conversation, but he said nothing more. The silence was uncomfortable, so she said, “What kind of dangers were you expecting to find ahead on the trail?”
    “The Salish signed a treaty a couple of years ago, but there’s still the occasional renegade out there. And the terrain is tricky. There are gullies and cliffs we’ll need to avoid.”
    Hetty had a sudden memory of Mrs. Templeton falling backward, of that long scream that had suddenly stopped. She shuddered and made a sound of distress.
    “Are you all right?” Karl asked.
    Hetty bit the inside of her cheek to keep from confessing everything. It was horrible to have tricked Karl into marriage. Horrible to be lying to him so much and so often. But the consequences of telling the truth might be dire for Grace and Griffin, so instead of spilling her guts, she said, “I’m fine.”
    “You had a look on your face like you were in pain.”
    “I’m all right,” Hetty insisted.
    Karl frowned, and Hetty felt her heart sink. Lies upon lies. All this deception weighed heavily on her conscience. She wondered whether Karl would really abandon the children if she simply told him the truth. All of the truth.
    Hetty realized immediately that she couldn’t do that until the marriage was consummated, and they were truly husband and wife. She couldn’t take the chance that Karl would call the whole thing off. Grace and Griffin had nowhere else to go. She would never—could never—abandon them, but she was unable to support them on her own.
    But an accounting was coming. She’d learned in Sunday school that houses built on sand could never stand in a storm. Disaster lay ahead, unless she could figure out some way to square things with Karl.
    Out of the blue, Karl asked, “How many men have there been in your past?”
    Hetty yanked her horse to a stop so abrupt he reared. It took her a moment to get the buckskin under control. Once she did, she stared wide-eyed and white-faced at Karl. “What do you mean?”
    “Let’s clear the air,” Karl said in a harsh voice. “I know Grace and Griffin had different fathers. I want to know how many other men have enjoyed