Mail-Order Holiday Brides. Jillian Hart
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СКАЧАТЬ aware of the hustle of folks climbing off the train behind her. She searched the small crowd for Tom’s face. Let him not be too hairy, she hoped. Her palms felt damp against the wool of her green mittens as she waited for her husband-to-be to step forward and claim her.

      This was what she’d prayed so hard for, day to day and from night to night. All around her, families reunited or said farewells, clinging to one another, sharing loving looks. Husbands and wives, mothers and sons, friends and sisters. Gentle wishes and cries of welcome or sad sounds of parting peppered the air around her. A lovely family crowded together, reunited, a mom flanked by two beautiful little girls while her husband kissed each daughter on the cheek. Tears stood in their eyes. Anyone could see the love that bound them. The happiness they felt when they were together.

      Please, let that be me one day. It was what she wished with all her heart.

      “Ma’am?” A country-looking man in a brown hide coat swept off his wide-brimmed hat. His brown hair was a little too long and mussed, and his abundant facial hair all but hid his mouth and a good deal of his collar.

      Maybe she could talk him into a trim, she thought optimistically, refusing to be disappointed. He looked less prosperous than she’d hoped with his threadbare trousers and patched boots, but his eyes were kind. That was a prayer come true. That was what mattered.

      “Tom?” she asked excitedly, suddenly so nervous her mouth felt numb. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

      “Sorry, I ain’t Tom.” He put his hat back on, looking disappointed. “I’m Jed. Guess you ain’t Aida, either.”

      “No, I’m sorry.” She truly was. She watched as Jed continued down the length of the platform. Another woman stood at the far end, looking lonely. Christina wished she’d known there was another mail-order bride on the train. Her mind drifted to Annabelle. How were things going with her? Was Adam all she’d hoped for?

      “Excuse me, miss?” A very proper-looking man in a black suit approached her. A top hat hid most of his sleek, well-combed black hair. This couldn’t be Tom, since the man looked like a butler and not a farmer. “You wouldn’t happen to be Miss Louisa Bell?”

      “No, sorry.” She watched as the man moved on, searching out the only other lone female waiting on the platform.

      The rumble of the engine vibrated through the boards at her feet. The wind gusted, swirling her skirts around her ankles. She prayed no one could see the hole in her sock or the state of her well-mended shoes. She drew her brown coat more tightly around her, unsure what to do. There were no other single men on the platform. She’d been quite clear in her letter to Tom about the day and time she would be arriving. Perhaps something had held him up? Or, worse, perhaps the letter had been lost in transit?

      A little of her happiness leaked out with her next breath. A flake of snow struck her cheek, and she shivered. The hustle of the crowd had gone.

      “How’s the arm?” The rumble of a smoky baritone drew her attention. Marshal Elijah Gable tipped his hat to her. “Still just bruised?”

      “Yes, exactly, and feeling much better.” Not that she could move her fingers yet, but she was hopeful. “What are you doing loitering around the depot?”

      “Oh, keeping my eye out for crime or nefarious-looking ruffians.”

      “So a big part of your job is just standing around doing nothing?”

      “Something like that.” Little did she know he’d been watching over her. “I also help damsels in distress.”

      “If I see any, I’ll point them in your direction.” Blue flecks in her eyes glittered up at him.

      The stubborn light within him strengthened like an ember refusing to be put out. “This clearly isn’t my business, but your fiancé hasn’t shown up to claim you.”

      “He’s coming, I’m sure.” She glanced around the empty platform, maybe thinking she was hiding her anxiety. Behind them the train rumbled, like a giant beast ready to bolt. “Perhaps he got waylaid.”

      “Maybe.” Elijah couldn’t imagine anything that would cause him to leave Christina alone in a strange town and penniless. “Why don’t I help you get settled, so you’re not standing here all afternoon?”

      “Oh, no. Tom said he’d meet me here, and that’s right where I’ll be when he comes.” She motioned toward the cozy little station where lamplight shone through frosted windowpanes. “I will be warm and safe there, so go about your business. I see no damsels in distress here.”

      “That’s too bad. Just thought you might want some company.” Snowflakes drifted lazily on a gusting wind, harbingers of another storm coming. He planted a hand on his hat, holding it when a gust hit. “It might get cold waiting.”

      “I’m sure he won’t be much longer.” The dainty curve of her chin hiked up a notch. “Any number of things could have happened. A sick animal on his farm or a broken axle on the drive to town could have delayed him. There could have been an accident on one of the streets in town and he stopped to help. He’s a reliable man, my Tom. He’ll come.”

      “I’m sure. The thing is, the station closes between trains. There won’t be another one until morning.” As proof, the lamplight went out, leaving the small window in darkness. A tall, pole-skinny man opened the door and took out his keys to lock it behind him. “With the sun about to set, it might get cold waiting here.”

      “Yes, it might.” She bit her bottom lip, studying one of the benches tucked up against the side of the station house. “I’m sure Tom won’t be much longer.”

      Was she aware of the slight wobble in her voice, the one hinting that maybe she wasn’t so sure?

      This isn’t your business, he tried to tell himself. Being near to her like this would only make him hurt more, because as she stood in the hazy light before sunset, dappled with snow and lovelier than anything he’d ever laid eyes on, he cared about her. He didn’t know why she brought life to his heart. He only knew she did.

      A cruel truth, because she was not free. He could only pray that the man who’d claimed her was worthy of her. A smart man would walk away. This was a safe town, he and his fellow lawmen worked to keep it that way, but no young woman should be sitting alone in the cold and dark. It was his professional duty to see her somewhere safe, and that made it a little easier to snatch the battered satchel from her gloved hand.

      “Hey, that’s mine.” Soft tendrils of brown silk framed her heart-shaped face in airy little wisps. “You are helping me against my will, Marshal.”

      “Sorry, it’s my sworn duty. The train is leaving—” He paused while the whistle blew loud and long. “Your Tom will know to look for you at the hotel. This isn’t a big town. There aren’t a lot of other places you could go.”

      “I don’t know which hotel he made my reservation at.” Her gait tapped alongside his, as lightly as a waltz. “I’m afraid we didn’t exchange many letters.”

      “You were in a hurry to wed?”

      “Very much so, as I was sneaking into the local livery stable to sleep during the night and creeping out before the owner arrived each morning.” Her chin hiked another notch. “I could have been arrested for trespassing if I’d been caught. What do you think about that, СКАЧАТЬ