Patchwork Bride Read Online Free Page A

She’ll come to see that in the end.”
    “So she hasn’t forgiven you?”
    “Nope. Not yet. But I’m confident she will come to see I was right.”
    “That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for.” If only following her own path would not potentially cost her her mother. “I’m praying my experience will be different from yours.”
    “Your mother doesn’t want you to be a teacher?”
    “She doesn’t want her daughters to work.” She hadn’t corrected his misimpression of her as a simple country girl, so how did she explain her mama’s view of society and a woman’s role in it? “My only hope is that Papa will understand.”
    “Then I’ll pray for that, too.” Serious, his words, and so intimate that it was as if they were the only two people on the entire expanse of the plains. Completely odd, as she’d never felt this way with anyone before. It was as if he’d reached out and taken her hand, although they did not touch. A tug of warmth curled through her, which was sweet like melting taffy and enduring in the way of a good friendship.
    “Meredith!” She felt a tug on her sleeve. “Don’t forget to turn.”
    She blinked, the feeling disappeared and the world surrounding her returned. Wet droplets tapped her face, the jingle of the harness and the splash of the horse’s hooves reminded her that Minnie was at her side, home was within reach and the time to say goodbye to this man had come.
    “Is this your driveway?” Shane broke the silence between them, one brow arched with his question.
    Did he feel this way, too? As if he did not want the moment to end?
    “Yes.” The word rasped past the regret building within her. She drew Sweetie to a stop, knowing he would go his way, she would go hers and she would never see him again. Her spirit ached at the thought. “Where are you headed?”
    “To a ranch somewhere in these parts.” He knocked off the rainwater gathering on the brim of his hat. “Since we’re running late, we might as well see you to your door. Braden, is that okay with you?”
    “Goin’ this way anyway,” came the answer as the older, gruff man pulled his mount to the roadside and consulted the telegram in his pocket.
    “Guess that means we don’t have far to go.” He shivered when the wind lifted, knifing through his wool coat. Nearly wet to the bone, he ought to be eager to get into dry clothes and thaw out in front of a fire. Gazing down at Just Meredith, he wasn’t in much of a hurry. “You ladies must be freezing. The temperature is falling. I could dig a blanket out of my saddle roll. Might keep you warmer.”
    “That’s very gentlemanly of you, but we’ll be fine.”
    “Meredith!” Minnie protested. “I’m cold. Look. It’s starting to snow. ”
    “No wonder I’m half an icicle.” Nothing like a joke to warm a fellow. He twisted in his saddle to tug on the ties and pulled a folded length of red wool from beneath the oiled tarp protecting his things. “This ought to keep you two ladies a little more comfortable.”
    “Thank you, Shane.”
    He liked the way she said his name with a touch of warmth—unless he was imagining that—and a bit of respect, which he didn’t mind at all. He gave the blanket a snap, settled it over the ladies’ skirts, nearly falling out of his saddle to hand over the edge to Meredith so she could tuck it around her and Minnie. Leaning close, an odd sense of warm curled around his ribs, something tender and fine like first light on a spring morning.
    Once she had the blanket settled, she gathered the reins in her slender, smooth hands. In retrospect, maybe he would have thought about that more and realized it was a sign. That a country girl’s hands wouldn’t look soft and pampered instead of callused and rough from work. But the bit of warm felt cozy in his chest, a nice and wholesome thing, so he didn’t think too much as he followed the buggy off the main road and down a narrower drive curving between a copse and tall