Page 29 of The Drifter's Bride
“I would have died if I couldn’t have been with him.” Ingrid smoothed down Weston’s sleeves. “I’d still die if I couldn’t be with him.” She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
Addison turned away, embarrassed to witness such an intimate moment. “Oh, he’s coming,” she squealed as she spied Lukas coming down the road in a gig she didn’t recognize. Ignoring her kissing relatives, Addy picked up her picnic basket and wrap and raced outside. She was waiting at the bottom of the steps when Lukas pulled up in the buggy.
“Whoa, girl,” he said, stopping the horse in front of the house. Climbing out of the buggy, his eyes looked her up and down. “Hello Addison. You look mighty pretty this morning.”
She smiled shyly, and twisted slightly, the fabric of her pale blue dress catching around her legs. It was one of her favorite dresses and she liked the way the bodice hugged her waist before flaring into a full skirt.
“Thank you. I picked this dress because I hoped you’d like it.”
He nodded at her appreciatively, his eyes smoldering as he looked at her. “I like it very much. Are you ready to go?”
“Where’s your horse?”
“Hickory doesn’t enjoy pulling buggies, so this is one of Peter’s horses. Her name is Flossy.”
Addy patted the horse on its neck as she handed the basket to Lukas. “I made fried chicken and sandwiches. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“Both sound delicious.” He placed the basket under the seat. “Let me help you up. Have your aunt and uncle already left for church?”
The front door slammed open in answer to their question. “No, we’ve not,” Weston said, walking outside as he placed a leather hat on his head. “Come on, Ingrid, we are going to be late.” Smiling at Lukas, he shook his head. “I swear she’s going to be late for her own funeral.”
“I heard that, Weston Chapman. Now git. Lydia isn’t feeling too well this morning, so we’ll be stopping by to see her after church. Caleb told me last night she isn’t going to services today.”
“Will Hart be there?” he asked.
“Yes, yes. Now let’s go.”
“That’s the oldest grandson?” Lukas asked.
“He is,” Addison explained. “I think Uncle Weston enjoys knowing Hart is going, so he has an excuse to go fishing after church. It is hard to keep all the grandchildren straight.”
Addison climbed up on the buggy and moved her skirt over, so Lukas had enough room to climb on the bench. Weston placed his hand on the buckboard and looked at the young couple.
“What time do you expect to have her home, son?”
“It shouldn’t be any later than two or three o’clock.”
“Let’s make it two, so I don’t have to come out looking for you. You are going to the area by the bridge?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Stay on this side of the creek. That way, you are within sight of the barn.”
“Uncle Weston, please,” Addison begged. “You’re embarrassing me,” she whispered through clenched teeth.
“It’s alright, Addy. Your uncle was young once. I don’t blame him for looking out for you. I’ll make sure we stay on this side of the creek, Weston.”
Weston pushed from the buggy with a nod.
“Come on, Weston. We are going to be late,” Aunt Ingrid called from the carriage house.
“See you at church, Addison.”
Lukas chuckled as he snapped the reins, and the horse started walking. Addy kept her hands on the bench as the gig followed Ingrid and Weston down the path. Joy bubbled through her at the thought of being so close to the handsome cowboy. Lukas must have felt it too, as he reached over and grabbed her hand, tucking it underneath his arm.
“I’d rather have you closer to me.”
“Lukas, it is a Sunday.”
