The Governess Bride: A Sweet Mail Order Bride Historical Read Online Free

takes after me. Abe on the other hand – well, he's just like his pa was. He'll scream the place down until he gets a pair of arms around him."
     
    Right on cue, as if to illustrate the fact, Abe at that moment waddled sleepily into the room, stumbled onto his chubby little knees, and sent a heartbroken wail skywards. Gideon quirked a knowing smile at Clara before scooping the little one up in his big strong arms. Clara's tummy did a little flip to see it. She admired the man for his strength and for his kindness. For the way he'd taken on the rearing of his two nephews without a single complaint. For rolling up his sleeves and getting his hands dirty – whether he knew what he was doing or not.
     
    Clara couldn't help but smile at him as he held and comforted Abe. "You love them very much, Mr McCabe, don't you?" she offered quietly.
     
    Gideon turned to look at her.
     
    "Are you ever going to start calling me Gideon?"
     
    Clara smiled shyly at him. "You love them very much, don't you Gideon?" she said again, shyer this time.
     
    Gideon grinned at her, turning his attention to Abe and back to her again.
     
    "A whole lot, Clara," he smiled, "A whole lot."
     
     
    * * *
     
    Gideon shot her a sideways look. Couldn't resist it. Couldn't resist her , truth be told. There was a sunbeam playing around her eyes. Hazel eyes. Pretty eyes. But eyes that were so often sad, too, and he didn't know why. No sadness there today, though. A sudden flare of gladness about that shot through his chest. Could it be that being here – with him, with the boys… Could it be that some of that sadness, whatever its cause, had ebbed away? Had been replaced by some kind of happiness?
     
    It surprised Gideon to note how very much he wanted that to be the case.
     
    "You're kind of cheerful today?" Gideon dangled the half-statement, half-question at her. It was unlike him to do so, and it surprised him to find it made him smile. She made him smile. And all the more when she shot one of her pretty smiles back at him. Such a warm smile, too. It went all the way to her eyes – and that simple fact had a flare of something he couldn't name searing through his chest.
     
    "I am," she beamed at him, "I am indeed cheerful." Gideon watched her. Saw her turn her face out to the breeze, taking in the big sky, the endless horizon, as she did so.
     
    "Isn't this God's own country, Mr McCabe?" she murmured quietly – to the breeze, as much as to him. Gideon's allowed his eyes to linger on her for a touch longer than he knew he should. And so he forced his eyes back to the horizon himself, and together they rode home, neither saying a word. Neither of them feeling the need to.
     
     
    * * *
     
    The next morning, before heading out, Gideon and Clara ate breakfast together.
     
    "More coffee?"
     
    "Thank you, Clara" Gideon waited for her to finish pouring, and then he gently caught her arm. A jolt went through her, and it took her a moment to name the feeling. It wasn't fear. She knew Gideon would never harm a hair on his head. It was longing.
     
    Clara froze. She couldn't – daren't – lift her lashes and meet his gaze in that moment.
     
    "Clara, I – "
     
    But whatever Gideon had been going to say, for reasons known only to him – he chose not to say it. Gently, he released his hold on her arm. He hesitated a moment, and then stood up abruptly, saying simply "Best get to work," before crushing his hat onto his head, and striding out the door.
     
    Clara watched him go, feeling something unknown, something deep inside her wilt at the loss of his touch.
     
     
    * * *
     
    Gideon rode fast and hard across the prairie. The brightness of the morning mocking his annoyance with himself. Mocking the battle that raged between his heart and his head. This stage of his life was about setting up the ranch and settling his nephews. He did not need the complications of any kind of romance. Maybe some years down the line he'd find himself a wife. But not