The Chef's Mail Order Bride: A Sweet Western Historical Romance (Wild West Frontier Brides Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

after all that she’d been through.
    She sat at the vanity and surveyed herself in the mirror as she combed out her hair and rolled it into a chignon at the base of her neck, as was her habit. She’d worked at the bakery too long to risk another customer complaint of hair in a bakery box, and old habits were hard to break.
    She’d laid the dress that she planned to wear out before she’d gotten in the tub, right next to the steam, so that it could “unwrinkle” as much as it was going to. She sighed when she noticed that it still was a little bit crumply from being in her bags for days, but after she’d put it on and smoothed it out, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror, satisfied that it didn’t look too bad.
    She had tried to lie down and she thought sleep would come and take her, she was so tired—but it had eluded her. She couldn’t stop thinking of the things she’d heard from Suzanne and James that were not in the letter and her chest tightened with worry. But as if on a carousel, her thoughts would then turn to her first sight of Tripp, and the butterflies would return as she wondered what he was like…what their life would be like.
    She spent the next hour going back and forth, wondering and worrying, and making matters worse. Finally, she gave up on sleep, went to her bag and pulled out her recipe cards from her mother and grandmother.
    She looked through them, read them over, although she knew them by heart. Red velvet cake—one of her favorites—and scones, biscuits and pies…she’d brought them all with her, hoping that she could be of some help in the restaurant.
    From the story that she’d heard about how the loan went, she felt positive that she could make a contribution and looked forward to helping in any way she could. Right now, though, she was anxious about meeting her intended, more than just laying eyes on him, and her nerves buzzed.
    She jumped when Suzanne rapped quietly on the door.
    “Sadie? Are you awake?”
    She pulled the door open quickly, feeling oddly like she was going to the guillotine, and wanted to just get on with things. Anything was better than wondering.
    “You look lovely, Sadie. And you smell better, too,” Suzanne said, looking her sister over.
    “Well, I suppose that’s a blessing,” Sadie replied, laughing at her sister’s teasing. She sighed, missing their camaraderie and glad to have it again.
    Even though she’d be moving soon, she surmised. Into her husband’s home. The thought made her shiver with uncertainty.
    “Are you cold,” Suzanne asked, a look of concern on her face. “People aren’t normally cold here, but I can get you a wrap.”
    “No, no, I’m not cold. Just a little nervous.”
    Suzanne stopped at the top of the stairs. “I’m sure you are. I would be, too, I’m positive. But James and I are here with you, and I just know this will be a wonderful thing for both of you.”
    She cupped Sadie’s cheek and gave her a comforting smile. “Are you ready? Tripp said dinner’s set out and we shouldn’t wait too long for it to get cold,” she said, looking into Sadie’s eyes. “Are you really ready?”
    Sadie sighed deeply, and placed her hand over her sister’s and squeezed it. “I am, Suzanne. I am.” She hoped that it sounded more certain to her sister than it did to her.
    She followed Suzanne down the stairs, again marveling at the smells that wafted up to her—she could identify the scent of beef, potatoes, maybe even carrots and wondered if he’d just made stew for them.
    But then she caught a whiff of—was that cinnamon? Would it be? She imagined what would be in all of these different dishes he’d made.
    As she followed Suzanne into the dining room, she stopped in her tracks, stunned at the beauty of the table setting. She’d expected something much more wild Westish—although she didn’t really know what that meant—but she was standing in front of an elegantly set table, complete with multiple forks and