Page 28 of The Drifter's Bride
“May I kiss you, Addison?”
She gave a brief nod, and that was all the invitation he needed to sweep her into his arms. His kiss was slow and thoughtful. He didn’t want to demand anything of her. There would be plenty of time for him to court her properly. Addison Aland would be his wife. It was just a matter of time.
Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes. They were soft as she looked up at him.
“Will you let me take you to a picnic after church on Sunday?”
“I’d like that very much, Lukas,” she said as his lips claimed hers once more.
Chapter Eleven
Addison peered out the window, waiting for the black buggy to appear down the lane. It had been five days since she had seen Lukas. Of course there was the Fourth of July picnic where he kissed her.
She pressed her fingers against her lips, and she could almost imagine he was kissing her again. The following day she went with him to deliver food to his brother and sister-in-law. What an experience that was!
Addy was blessed enough to help Elizabet bring her two babies into the world. A boy and a girl. Of course, Aunt Ingrid arrived right after the babies were born, but Addy was proud she could do it on her own. It even brought her and Lukas closer together.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen him since. He was working the range this week, but he promised he’d be off to take her to church and a picnic today.
“Looking out the window won’t make him come any quicker,” Aunt Ingrid said, adjusting her bonnet. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful as always, Aunt. I am just looking forward to being able to ride to church with him this morning.”
“That is a sign that he is courting you.”
“If that is what you are calling it now,” Weston grumped.
“Did you take Aunt Ingrid to church, Uncle Weston? You know, when you were courting her?”
Aunt Ingrid laughed. “No. He never took me to church. He never intended to take me anywhere, did you, my love?”
“Correct. And it wasn’t until you decided to stowaway in the back of my wagon that I had no choice but to marry you.” He walked over and wrapped his arms around his wife. “Did I? You insisted I marry you before I leave for the West.” Giving Addison a wink, he kissed Ingrid on the cheek. “She was afraid some woman who hadn’t bathed in a month would steal me away.”
“I don’t recall it like that, but tell yourself those stories if you must, old man,” she gently pushed him away.
“Did you really get married before Uncle Weston left?”
“We got married because your Aunt Ingrid has a stubborn streak the size of the Mississippi. She climbed in the back of my wagon and was determined to come on the journey with me and my friend. I found her and her friend hiding between sugar barrels.”
“You didn’t!” Addison’s admiration of her aunt jumped tenfold. “Why did you do that? It seems very daring.”
“It seemed very foolish,” Weston admonished.
“I wasn’t about to let the man I loved leave without me. If I had to sneak inside his wagon, then that is what I was going to do.”
“So, you found a preacher and got married?”
“No. I took her back home, married her and left her behind again.”
“But how did you both end up here?” Addison wondered.
“Because again, that stubborn streak. Your Aunt decided she needed to meet me in Independence, and she walked most of the distance…”
“While pregnant with your sons,” Aunt Ingrid added.
“While pregnant with my sons,” he concurred, “and I couldn’t bear to send her back.”
“How romantic,” Addison sighed. “To be that much in love.”
