Page 34 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
“I suppose I thought we’d end up marrying.” There was a time saying those words would tear a strip from his heart but this time they didn’t. He chuckled with relief and freedom. “Thankfully, Trudy recognized our friendship for exactly that. Like she said to me, we were too much like brother and sister for there to be anything else.”
Della nudged his arm. “It seems you’re unlucky in love. First, Trudy, and now a loveless marriage to me.” She seemed interested in the passing scenery which had not changed in the last hour—all yellowed grass, rolling hills, and blue sky.
“Della.”
She slowly brought her gaze to him.
He studied her face and saw uncertainty, perhaps even fear. He searched her eyes, drawn into her feelings. Knew he saw longing. He couldn’t say for sure what she ached for, but an answering ache came to his heart. He promised himself he would do what he could to fill that hunger, that void… whatever it was. Even if he only had a few days in which to do it.
“Della, I consider myself fortunate to have found you. It pleases me to help you. And to share your adventures.” He chuckled as he added the latter.
Her eyes blazed with color to rival the bluest Montana sky he’d ever seen. “An adventure, is it?”
“I’d say so.”
She settled back, a pleased smile on her face. Contented silence swathed them. The horses plodded onward. The wheels went round and round.
“Isn’t it about time you told me about your beaus? After all, I’ve told you about Trudy.”
“Beaus?” She shrugged. “I didn’t have time for them. Well, except for Ronald. Though he didn’t even know he was my beau.” Her laughter made her eyes sparkle. “He was the son of one the ladies Ma did laundry for. He would frequently deliver the clothes to the door or pick them up when they were ready. He’d often bring me a candy from the store.” She laughed again. “It could be I liked the treat as much as the boy.”
Andy chuckled. “What happened to him?”
“Oh, he moved away. Without so much as a good-bye.”
“I’m sorry. Were you devastated?”
Her grin made it impossible for him to feel bad for her. “I couldn’t help but wish someone else would bring me a butterscotch candy stick.” She licked her lips.
“I’ll have to see what I can do for you.”
Their gazes locked. The air was ripe with possibility and promise. It was with difficulty that he turned from her to concentrate on the road ahead.
“We’ll have to find a place to spend the night,” he said in the hopes of returning his thoughts to reality.
“Another night camping?” But if he thought she’d be upset, her tone suggested otherwise. Seems she was enjoying the adventure. “Good thing we’re married.”
He grinned at her dry words. “Do you think the preacher was shocked at our rush?”
She nodded. “But the ladies were amused. No doubt they thought we were so desperately in love that we couldn’t wait to tie the knot.”
They laughed together, but it was more than amusement for him. And he couldn’t say what it was, but it felt strangely like regret. Regret for what? The only answer he had was he wished for a real marriage.
That was the strangest thought he’d ever had. Not many days past he believed he didn’t want to marry for a good long time.
The sun had dipped toward the west. The road followed a narrow stream. He didn’t care to camp so close to the trail, so they continued onward until he saw a grove a distance away and he turned toward them.
When they reached the spot, he helped Della to the ground. As she hurried to the trees to tend to her personal needs, he unhitched the horses and led them to water then tethered them where they could graze. He still had oats and fed them a portion.
Della still hadn’t returned, and his neck began to twitch. He rubbed it, feeling the bruises from Mr. Hartman. What if the man had escaped and followed them? Was it possible he’d caught up to them? Other dangers existed. Should he call out? Or edge closer until he could see her and make sure she wasn’t facing any sort of threat?
Deciding to err on the side of caution, he eased along the line of trees, straining for any sound that should alarm him. He heard the gurgling of the water, the soft murmur of birds, and the rustle of the leaves but nothing to indicate where Della was or if she was in danger.
He stopped and tilted his head to hear better. It sounded like someone. He inched forward. Through the trees saw the flash of the dark skirt she wore.
Two more silent steps and he could make her out. She stood, her hands clasped together in front of her, her face tipped toward the sky. A few words drifted to him on the wind… enough that he knew she prayed.
He drew back into the shelter of the trees, not wanting to interrupt. She jerked toward him.
