Page 18 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
“You mean clothes? I left everything behind when I ran away from Mr. Hartman.”
“My goodness.” She set the pitcher by a basin. “Wait here. I’ll get you a night gown and a clean dress.” Before Della could protest, the woman hurried away to return in a few minutes with the promised things. “I think these will fit you. We’re much the same size except for—” She patted her tummy.
“Thank you. I’ll mail them back to you when I get home.”
“No need. I’m glad to share.” And with a murmured, “Good night,” she left.
Washed and in the woman’s soft white cotton nightdress, Della lay in the comfortable bed and released a long, weary sigh. It was the first real bed she’d lain on in days and it felt good.
A week ago, she had been full of excitement at the idea of traveling across the country and meeting the man who’d asked her mother to marry him. She shuddered at how disastrous that might have been but fell asleep with a smile on her lips. Like Trudy said, it was good that Andy had found her.
She wokewith a start the next morning and sat upright. Then she remembered where she was and jumped from bed to don the navy skirt and flowered shirtwaist Trudy had left. Della tidied her hair with the brush Trudy had lent her and tied it with the piece of cloth she’d torn from her petticoat. Sounds came from beyond her door, and she stepped from the room.
Trudy stood at the open doorway.
“Did you go to bed last night?” Della asked.
“I slept for a spell.” Again, she twisted the hem of her apron.
“Why don’t you sit at the table, and I’ll make coffee.” Della glanced at Andy as he entered the house. He looked rested. “It won’t be as strong as Andy’s but that’s probably a good thing.”
He laughed. Their gazes caught for the space of a heartbeat. Confused by the way his look called to the deep, secret places in her heart, she turned to the stove. She’d read too many of theMen of the Westnovels. They’d caused her to expect being rescued meant something more. Not that she’d admit what she meant by that. She found what she needed to make coffee and saw there were eggs in a basket. “Would you like me to make breakfast?”
Trudy still hovered at the doorway, her fingers working the hem of her apron. “Forgive me. I’m not a very good hostess.” But she didn’t leave her position.
Della sliced meat from the roast of the previous evening, and fried it along with eggs and some cooked potatoes she found in the pantry. The coffee boiled. She let it settle then took a cupful to Trudy, waiting until she wrapped her hands around it before she took a mug of the brew to Andy.
He sipped a mouthful. Smiled up at her. “It’s good.”
She drank from her own cup and grinned at him. “Kind of mild after your version.”
Their gazes held in shared humor. Remembering breakfast, she filled three plates. “Trudy, it’s ready,” she called.
The woman kept her attention on the outdoors until the last minute then joined them at the table.
“I’ll pray.” Andy bowed his head. “Father in heaven, we thank You for the provision of food for the body and Your love for our soul. Whatever has delayed Bart, help him get home safely. Amen.”
Grateful for the warm food, Della ate heartily. Andy cleaned his plate. Trudy picked at her food. Her worry filled the air with so much tension it was difficult to breathe.
Andy pushed back. “Della, would you please help me?”
Della hurried after him as he left the house.
“I need your assistance to unload the trunk.” Before he reached for the handle, he faced her. “I’m concerned with how distraught Trudy is. I’ve known her since we were children and I’ve never seen her so upset. Can you keep an eye on her while I go look for her husband?”
“Of course.” She leaned her hip against the wagon and studied him. “Since you were children? Might there have been special feelings between you?” She watched for his reaction.
He shrugged. “I admit I once held hope of romance but that was a long time ago. From all reports, she’s got a good man and you can see how much he matters to her.” He shrugged again. “I’m happy to say I no longer harbor anything for her but concern.”
“Is she the reason you aren’t interested in getting married?” She couldn’t explain why she needed to know the truth about his feelings toward Trudy.
“I suppose that might have been the case at one time but no, not now. I’m just not ready to settle down.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “You’re not the only one who would like to have more adventures.”
“Isn’t your whole life out here in the west an adventure?”
He leaned his hip against the wagon box just as she had. They faced each other. “It’s not all likeMen of the West.”
She held his gaze, liking that he teased her without being unkind. “I beg to differ. So far, my time in the west has been every bit as exciting as those stories.”
