Page 76 of Immortal Bastard

“Yes,” she agreed, pointing at her chest. “And I’m traditionally non-Amish.”

The stiff, gauzy atrocity was the epitome of suppression in her mind. It symbolized too much negativity in this day and age. “Men would never wear something so demeaning.”

“We wear hats.”

“To block the sun. That thing—” She pointed at the offensive bonnet. “Is meant to hide a woman’s hair because you people associate hair with vanity and shame. No way am I conforming to such nonsense.”

“I think you misunderstand our meaning, pintura. We cover our heads because it’s proper for prayer. This way, we’re always prepared to speak to God.”

Her chin dropped to her chest as she stared at him with a Kubrick stare.

He shifted under her upward gaze. “Should I protect my manhood?”

“Good instinct.” Only then did she notice the small package wrapped in brown paper that he held in his hand. “What’s that?”

“A gift for you.” He handed her the lightweight bundle that obviously held something delicate inside.

The flowing script reminded her of an exhibit she once saw of Civil War letters—equally beautiful and chilling as she read, To Brother Christian’s betrothed. “God, help me.”

“He’s trying.”

She stilled and returned her stare to him, catching a glimmer of humor in his eye. “Was that a joke?”

Rather than answer, he turned away and busied himself at the dresser.

She smirked and lowered to the bed with the package.

Maybe it was insane to normalize their situation, but she was tired of having bad days and wanted to try a different approach. Last night had been… enlightening and exhausting.

She’d assumed she’d wake up with an information overload hangover, but she actually woke up feeling fantastic. Wanting to get out of the house and explore, she made a promise to behave. She’d bite her tongue clean off if that’s what it took for that to happen. So far, she and Christian had been tolerating each other and managing their circumstances agreeably.

Pulling the jute ribbon from the package, she tried to recall the last time anyone had given her a gift. No tape was used to wrap the bundle, but a tea towel was folded neatly inside the brown paper.

She frowned. Was this more pressure toward a domestic future of servitude? Unfolding the towel, a note fluttered to the floor along with a pile of pink lace. Several modern hairpins scattered across the wood planks.

Confused, she lifted the pink lace and laughed. “Is this traditional Amish as well?”

Christian turned and his eyes widened. “That’s…” He scowled. “Was that in the package?”

“Yup.” She twirled the hot pink panties around on her finger, loving whatever this was doing to him. “And you said the bishop’s wife sent this over?”

He muttered something under his breath in a different language.

Delilah retrieved the handwritten note.

Hello friend,

My sisters and I thought these items might be of some use. The underthings are from Destiny, the pins from myself. Anna has volunteered to find you decent shoes, but first, she needs your size. The females are working on new dresses and aprons so you will have your own. Do you have a preference in color?

We look forward to meeting you in person and becoming great friends. Congratulations on your mating! Welcome to your new home. May the years ahead be filled with happiness and love.

Best wishes,

Larissa King

Wife to Bishop Eleazar King

An odd sensation settled over her. How had she formed an alliance with women she’d never met? Women didn’t typically care for her as a general rule, which was why she was prone to having male friends.

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