Page 18 of The Banker's Bride

“I’ll be right back. I need to get me hat.” Megan headed toward the door.

“There’s a reticule on the top of the dresser.”

Megan huffed and then walked out. “I’ll meet ye at the door.”

Yes, it was going to take a while for his new wife to get used to being treated like a lady.

In the carriage on the way into town, Dallas had been excited at the possibilities. The possibility of having a life together, of spending the day with Megan, and the possibility of grooming her to be the wife he wanted. She was already beautiful, but withthe addition of fine clothes and jewels, she would be stunning and the envy of all his friends. But after this morning, he knew better than to tell her. At least, for the moment.

“What were ye thinking about just then?” Megan’s auburn hair was pulled up at the sides, letting the waves flow down her back, her lovely hat pinned forward into place.

“I was just thinking about you.” He reached out and stroked her hand. “You truly are a vision.”

“Thank you.” Megan smiled, a delicate flush coloring her cheeks.

In addition to her beauty, she was kind. Megan glanced over at Dallas with vulnerable eyes, but he sensed a strength in her, too. As they rode to Whiskey River, he’d wondered what her story was, what her past life was like, and what had happened to make her so strong, yet so vulnerable. But now wasn’t the time to ask. He didn’t want anything to spoil their day together.

Megan yawned as she snuggled against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Dallas smiled. “I probably kept you up too late last night.”

Megan chuckled. “No, it’s okay. It’s just that I didn’t get much sleep on the train, either.”

Dallas slid his arm around her, holding her close as she snuggled against his chest. On the way, white snow-capped mountains rose in the distance, a contrasting backdrop to the yellow, red, orange, and brown leaves dotting the landscape. “I never sleep well on trains either. Too much jostling, I suppose.”

Megan nodded against his chest.

“So, how was your trip otherwise?”

When she lifted her head, her eyes lit up. “Wonderful. Thank ye for the caviar.”

“‘Twas my pleasure.” He thought for a moment. “Did you meet anyone along the way?” Dallas held his breath, dreadingher answer. After what had happened with Ella, he didn’t want it to happen again.

Megan shook her head as she sat up. “No, I spent most of the time in me cabin.”

Smiling, he kissed her forehead. “What do you like to do? Do you have any hobbies?”

Megan looked as if she was about to say something more, but then stopped herself.

He placed his finger gently under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me what you were going to say. Please, don’t hold anything back from me.”

She shook her head as her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

He laughed. “Oh, come now! It can’t be that bad. Tell me.”

“Oh, no ye don’t.” Megan pulled back, her Irish brogue even more prominent. “Ye won’t be gittin’ no secrets out of me.”

“I bet I can.”

She shook her head, smiling.

He took her hand and kissed it, and then began kissing his way up her arm.

“Okay, okay! Ye don’ play fair,” she relented, pulling her arm away. “I was about to say that when ye’re poor, ye don’t have many choices fer hobbies. Surviving becomes yer hobby.” She checked her hat to ensure that it hadn’t become dislodged, and then turned to look out the window. “But of course, ye probably know nothing of that.”

“You’d be surprised.” Dallas squeezed her hand, claiming her attention. “Megan, I grew up poor, too. My father was a sharecropper.”

She arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

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