The Scoundrel. Lisa Plumley

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ you do, I’ll pry it out. I’ve got a pair of blacksmith’s tongs handy someplace.”

      Sarah seemed unimpressed by his practical suggestion.

      “Carry me over the threshold, Daniel.”

      “Why? It’s four steps, maybe five at the most. You’re an able-bodied woman. I’ve seen you corral three hooligans by the ear and drag them inside the schoolhouse all by yourself.”

      She didn’t move.

      He searched for more proof. “I reckon you can throw a baseball nearly as well as any man in the Morrow Creek league.”

      A gasp. “You swore you’d never tell anyone about that!”

      “I haven’t. I’m the one who taught you to do it.” After she’d pestered him endlessly when he’d joined the league himself. “But you’re no weakling, and we both know it.”

      She crossed her arms over her middle. Arched her brow. “All I know for certain is that I begin to believe I’ve married the weaker McCabe. Next thing you know, I’ll be wielding your blacksmith’s hammer myself to spare you the exertion.”

      Enough was enough. “Fine.”

      He scooped her up in a flurry of lacy skirts and girlish squeals. Befuddled but determined—and slightly more deafened than he’d started out—Daniel carried her the few steps inside the house. He stopped with her still in his arms.

      His burly, brawny, hammer-wielding arms. Blast it.

      He glanced downward, keeping his expression fierce. His new bride needed to know that this order-giving of hers was a wedding-day exception. It would not be an everyday occurrence. He was the master of his own household.

      Opening his mouth on a warning to that effect, Daniel gazed at Sarah. At the shining look on her face, the stern words he’d meant to say flew clear from his head. Had he ever seen her look so pleased? So…pretty?

      “Now,” she said, eyes shining, “I believe we’re married.”

      “Just because I carried you inside?” It was the most outlandish thing she’d said to him today, short of “kiss me.” Yet there was something about the look on her face….

      He didn’t want to think about it.

      “Stop talking nonsense,” Daniel said gruffly. He put her down, then rammed his hat on his head. “I’m off to Jack Murphy’s saloon.”

      Her husband had gone carousing. On his wedding night.

      Still smarting at the realization, Sarah kicked aside a pair of gargantuan muddy boots. They had to belong to Daniel. No one else possessed feet that big. Or an arrogance to match. Did he truly expect her to stay here alone while he tossed back pints at the saloon?

      Frustrated, she raised her skirts and went to the window. Daniel was just disappearing around the bend, his shoulders broad and his manner carefree. She’d done all she could to make him stay with her, short of clamping herself on his leg and begging. She did have some pride. But he’d refused to linger. In the end, Sarah had decided that if Daniel didn’t want her, she didn’t want him.

      Until she’d made him love her, of course.

      Resigned for now, she released the curtain. As the fabric flopped in place, it raised a billow of dust. Sarah frowned at her hand, then rubbed her fingers together. They felt gritty.

      Daniel’s parting words came back to her.

      “I tidied up this morning, on account of the occasion,” he’d told her. “I reckon you won’t have a thing to do while I’m gone but unpack all your dresses and whatnot.”

      He nodded at the belongings she’d had carried over earlier. With one sweep of his beefy arm, he indicated the appropriate chamber down the hall. It had been Eli’s room, Daniel explained further, until he’d moved the boy’s things.

      “You and I aren’t to share a bedroom?”

      A frown. “Didn’t seem quite right to me. Seeing as how we’re only married on account of Eli.”

      “Oh. That’s true. That’s fine, then. An excellent idea,” Sarah bluffed, not wanting him to know the notion bothered her. As near as she could tell, sharing a room was one of the cozier aspects of being married. She had—she was embarrassed to admit—looked forward to it. Dismayed, she peered down the hall. “But if I am in that room, where will Eli sleep?”

      Clearly, Daniel hadn’t thought of that. “I guess we’ll likely take turns with my bed. Yep. That solves it.”

      Then he’d set his hat at a rakish angle, given her an unreadable look and stridden from the house as if his heels were on fire.

      Sarah didn’t understand it. Now, picking her way among the bits and pieces of his bachelor’s household, she realized that while she had spent the past several days in frantic preparations, Daniel had…not. In fact, he didn’t appear to have considered her arrival at all. Their marriage—a monumental event in Sarah’s life—didn’t mean anything to him beyond a means of solving his troubles with Eli.

      She knew she should have expected as much. She’d gone into this arrangement with her eyes open, after all. Daniel hadn’t tried to deceive her. But somehow, a part of her had still hoped things would be different.

      “Why, Sarah!” Daniel was supposed to have exclaimed upon seeing her today. “You’re beautiful! I don’t know how I haven’t noticed till now.”

      She’d have blushed prettily, glowing with his praise.

      “In fact, now that I think on it, I’ve been in love with you all along!” he’d have continued. “How could I not be? You’re an ideal match for me. So lovely, so kind, so clever.”

      It would have been immodest to agree. She’d merely have smiled, linking her arm with his in a way that bespoke gentle, long-standing affection. He’d have chivalrously offered her a flower. A rare blossom, perhaps, like the ones from her mama’s greenhouse. She’d blink back sentimental tears, planning to press the flower and cherish it always, and—

      A clatter in the kitchen shattered her reverie. Jolted into alertness, Sarah glanced to the cast-iron cookstove. A tabby cat streaked from amid the handmade pots and pans scattered atop it, giving her a baleful glare as it slipped beneath a chair.

      “Hello, there.” Surprised, she stepped nearer. “I didn’t know you lived here, too.”

      Frankly, Daniel had never seemed the sort to nurture a pet. Especially given how much of his time was devoted, of necessity, to blacksmithing. Perhaps the cat was Eli’s.

      She crouched, her skirts whispering, then extended her hand. “Come here, little kitty. I won’t hurt you.”

      The tabby regarded her suspiciously, whiskers twitching.

      “Are you hungry? I am. I didn’t have a bite to eat at the wedding party.” She’d been too busy trying to catch the eye of her new husband for anything so mundane as food.

      Straightening, СКАЧАТЬ