Page 62 of Mail-Order Bride Mommy
“Uncle Andy says she doesn’t have to unless you marry her.” Two little fists bunched to her hips. “He says you ought to marry her right now. Why don’cha? Why don’t you make sure she doesn’t fly away?”
He tried for humor even though he felt none inside. “Well, little gal, in case you didn’t notice, it’s raining like a waterfall out there. I think she’d prefer to stay here where it’s warm and dry.”
Lindy huffed and stalked from the room.
He asked himself the same question as he followed her from the room. Why didn’t he suggest they marry right away? She’d certainly proven to be efficient, kind, and someone he liked having around.
“Supper is ready,” Gwen announced.
They gathered around the table, enjoying thick slices of bread and a savory stew while outside, the wind blew, and the rain fell.
After the kitchen was clean, they settled in together in the front room. Lindy brought out some of her rocks and feathers and arranged them to her liking. Gwen had a basket of sewing in her lap and examined several pieces. Matt wondered what she meant to make with them.
He had some older newspapers with items he had yet to read. They seemed very far removed from the harsh elements even though the storm bellowed and raged outdoors. The evening passed and they put Lindy to bed. She still hadn’t invited him to go with her to say good night.
He should leave now but the rain still battered the little house and he wanted to say he had changed his mind about delaying the wedding. Mentally, he rehearsed how he would word the request.
Gwen returned and looked at the storm-darkened window. “Stay a little longer. Perhaps it will let up.”
“Very well.” He watched her cut and stitch pink fabric and the shape of a doll’s body emerged. His thoughts, however, were not on her project but on his. He was about to break the silence with his request to marry sooner when she looked up, mistaking his steady gaze for interest.
“I’m making a doll for Lindy. One she can drag around and play with.” She held up the unfinished product to show him. “I have made dolls for some time now. In fact—” She lowered her gaze to the doll then darted a glance at him. “I had a reputation for out-of-the-ordinary dolls.”
He studied the item in her hands. “I can see why already. The features almost look real.”
She gave a soft, self-deprecating sigh. “That’s my goal.” She grew serious. “Each of these is like my own baby.” Her gaze raised to him. “My only babies.”
He blinked, taking in the intensity of her look. Dark eyes that seemed to open to her very soul. He was being sucked in, feeling the depth of her sorrow as she acknowledged the pain of knowing their agreement meant she would never have any other child but Lindy.
What would she say if he suggested they changed the terms of that agreement? Surely it wouldn’t hurt to ask that as well.
“Gwen, about—”
A flash of lightning seared his eyes. A roar of thunder followed in the same second. Before the second clap thundered, they were both on their feet, Gwen in his arms. And then a second and third thunder came, shaking the house. They clung to each other as the sound rolled and rumbled.
There was a short interval before the next streak of lightning came, illuminating her features in silver. She cringed against him when the thunder followed. He held her to his chest, his heart beating in time with hers, jolting with each clap of thunder.
The noise of the storm lessened. Or did he block it out as he studied her upturned face, her eyes too large, her lips parted. As he watched, her look went from alarm to something else that he dared to call awareness. She trailed her gaze over his face and back to his eyes. He lost himself for a moment in the tiny dimple in her left cheek, a sweet reminder of her happiness. Her lips drew his attention, and he couldn’t pull away. His arms encircled her even as she wrapped hers around his waist, clinging to him.
“Gwen.” He lowered his head.
Someone banged on the door and threw it open before they could spring apart or call for the visitor to enter.
14
Heat stung Gwen’s cheeks. She wasn’t normally frightened by thunder and lightning but to have it occur simultaneously was a different matter…something she’d never experienced before. Her scalp had tingled. The smell of gunpowder had filled the air, and she’d fled to Matt’s arms for shelter.
Only fear had given way to something else…awareness of him as more than a protector. More than a man she planned to share a home with. Her heart had beat an incessant demand. She wanted more than his name. More than his home. More than his protection.
As her gaze searched his, she admitted she would have welcomed a kiss. Unfortunately, the banging door interrupted the moment.
Luke stood in the doorway. “Riley’s house has been struck. Come on, we have to see what the damage is.”
“Coming.” Matt paused to speak to Gwen. “Will you be all right on your own?”
“Of course.” Her words came out strong and confident—in total opposition to the trembling of her insides.
“I’ll be back to let you know how things are.” The door of the entryway clicked. They were gone.
