Read Online The Wedding Ransom by Geralyn Dawson - Free Book Online
Authors: Geralyn Dawson
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promised Snake I’d help him roll out piecrusts for dinner.”
Maggie pretended not to hear Hill’s objection as she slipped from the room and pulled the door closed behind her. Taking a step toward the stairs, her knees suddenly went watery, and she grabbed for the banister to steady herself. By nature, Maggie was strong during a crisis, but the minute it was over she fell apart. She fought to hold off such a reaction now.
Marriage to Barlow Hill. What a horrific thought. But at least she’d managed to think on her feet and soothe the fool without ruining her own game. At least, that’s what she hoped had just happened. Drawing a deep breath, she made her way downstairs and out the back door, instinctively seeking the company of one of her grandfathers.
Sunshine toasted her face and chased some of the chill from her bones as she glanced toward the corral where Lucky was busy making certain the horses were ready to make the upcoming trip. She couldn’t go to Papa Lucky. He would take one look at her and know something was wrong. Then he’d decide to make it better, and end up making it worse.
Maggie gazed toward the garden looking for Ben. Upon retiring from the sea, the pirate captain had discovered he possessed a green thumb. He enjoyed digging and pruning and weeding and had made it his habit to spend part of the afternoon in the garden each day. During the golf game earlier that morning, he’d declared his intention to harvest a supply of ready vegetables to send along on the voyage. Maggie knew if she went to Ben and he sensed her troubles, he wouldn’t erupt like an angry volcano. But he would fret something fierce. That wouldn’t be good for his health. Those breathing troubles he’d suffered upon occasion worried her.
No. She turned away from the garden. As the head of their unique little family, Papa Ben had enough trouble on his mind already. He didn’t need to concern himself with Barlow Hill’s nutty plan.
Fearing Hill might follow her to the kitchen should she choose to visit Snake, Maggie decided to look for Gus. He probably was the best choice, anyway. Gus was the type to offer her his support without forcing her to explain her mood. Earlier this morning he’d indicated his intention to lay in a stash of Bliss water for the trip, so Maggie headed for the lake.
Papa Gus habitually filled the tonic bottles at a spot across the lake from the hotel where the water was at its deepest. Scanning the dock, she confirmed that the rowboat was missing, then she veered off toward the path that followed along the bank of the lake. She made her way toward the spot where she expected to find her grandfather.
Maggie walked slowly, consciously babying her knee after a misplaced step twisted her leg and reminded her of last night’s flare-up. She admitted she might have acted precipitously by joining her papas in their golf game this morning, but when they mentioned it, she couldn’t say no. Maggie hated to allow the cursed rheumatism to limit her in any way. She found it easier to deal with the physical aches than the blows to her spirit caused by forced limitation of her activities. Besides, one little spell didn’t mean she was bound to have another bout of the disease. And that’s all last night was—one little spell. She wouldn’t think of it any other way.
The afternoon’s warm and muggy air closed in on her, adding to her tension. Days such as this often brought thunderstorms before dark. Maggie glanced above her, searching for threatening clouds but thankfully finding only a wide expanse of pale blue. Even though a nice violent roar of wind and rain would suit her mood, today she’d just as soon stay dry.
Shadows swallowed her as the path disappeared into the woods lining the shore. Oaks, maples, and bald cypress trees towered above her, and from their canopy of branches she heard the high-pitched squeal of hatchlings and the scold of a mother mockingbird standing guard at her nest.
Maggie
Maggie pretended not to hear Hill’s objection as she slipped from the room and pulled the door closed behind her. Taking a step toward the stairs, her knees suddenly went watery, and she grabbed for the banister to steady herself. By nature, Maggie was strong during a crisis, but the minute it was over she fell apart. She fought to hold off such a reaction now.
Marriage to Barlow Hill. What a horrific thought. But at least she’d managed to think on her feet and soothe the fool without ruining her own game. At least, that’s what she hoped had just happened. Drawing a deep breath, she made her way downstairs and out the back door, instinctively seeking the company of one of her grandfathers.
Sunshine toasted her face and chased some of the chill from her bones as she glanced toward the corral where Lucky was busy making certain the horses were ready to make the upcoming trip. She couldn’t go to Papa Lucky. He would take one look at her and know something was wrong. Then he’d decide to make it better, and end up making it worse.
Maggie gazed toward the garden looking for Ben. Upon retiring from the sea, the pirate captain had discovered he possessed a green thumb. He enjoyed digging and pruning and weeding and had made it his habit to spend part of the afternoon in the garden each day. During the golf game earlier that morning, he’d declared his intention to harvest a supply of ready vegetables to send along on the voyage. Maggie knew if she went to Ben and he sensed her troubles, he wouldn’t erupt like an angry volcano. But he would fret something fierce. That wouldn’t be good for his health. Those breathing troubles he’d suffered upon occasion worried her.
No. She turned away from the garden. As the head of their unique little family, Papa Ben had enough trouble on his mind already. He didn’t need to concern himself with Barlow Hill’s nutty plan.
Fearing Hill might follow her to the kitchen should she choose to visit Snake, Maggie decided to look for Gus. He probably was the best choice, anyway. Gus was the type to offer her his support without forcing her to explain her mood. Earlier this morning he’d indicated his intention to lay in a stash of Bliss water for the trip, so Maggie headed for the lake.
Papa Gus habitually filled the tonic bottles at a spot across the lake from the hotel where the water was at its deepest. Scanning the dock, she confirmed that the rowboat was missing, then she veered off toward the path that followed along the bank of the lake. She made her way toward the spot where she expected to find her grandfather.
Maggie walked slowly, consciously babying her knee after a misplaced step twisted her leg and reminded her of last night’s flare-up. She admitted she might have acted precipitously by joining her papas in their golf game this morning, but when they mentioned it, she couldn’t say no. Maggie hated to allow the cursed rheumatism to limit her in any way. She found it easier to deal with the physical aches than the blows to her spirit caused by forced limitation of her activities. Besides, one little spell didn’t mean she was bound to have another bout of the disease. And that’s all last night was—one little spell. She wouldn’t think of it any other way.
The afternoon’s warm and muggy air closed in on her, adding to her tension. Days such as this often brought thunderstorms before dark. Maggie glanced above her, searching for threatening clouds but thankfully finding only a wide expanse of pale blue. Even though a nice violent roar of wind and rain would suit her mood, today she’d just as soon stay dry.
Shadows swallowed her as the path disappeared into the woods lining the shore. Oaks, maples, and bald cypress trees towered above her, and from their canopy of branches she heard the high-pitched squeal of hatchlings and the scold of a mother mockingbird standing guard at her nest.
Maggie
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