The Bride Wore Blue Read Online Free

that?”
    “Warn me?” In their letters, her sisters had written of the woman’s kindnesses, but she’d not received any warnings. Vivian shook her head.
    “About Miss Hattie’s phonograph. Her music is one of her many endearing qualities.” Ida reached for an electric doorbell. “Just be thankful I bought her new cylinders this last Christmas. Now she has five songs in her repertoire.”
    Kat giggled. “You don’t know how lucky you are, Viv. We only had three songs.”
    When Hope began to fuss, Kat pushed the doorbell again. This time the music shut off.
    “On my way, dears.” The words puffed out just before the door swept open. A wide smile filled the face of a woman of ample portions, top and bottom. Her friendly gaze locked on Vivian. “I’m Hattie, and you must be our Vivian.”
    Before Vivian could answer or even nod, the woman enveloped her in a robust hug. She smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. Welcoming. Comforting. So undeserved.
    Sighing, Miss Hattie stepped back as if she sensed Vivian’s unworthiness, then gripped her shoulders at arm’s length. “You’re a smallerversion, for sure. But right adorable. And so fashionable in your travel dress. I love the straighter lines and full-length jacket.”
    Vivian nodded. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” The woman had an eye for fashion. Vivian already liked her.
    Miss Hattie released Vivian’s shoulders. “The Sinclair sisters are at long last together again.”
    Together, but for how long? They’d only been apart for two years, but it was long enough for her to do something stupid, something that would place an immovable wedge between them. Vivian looked at her sisters. How long they would be together depended upon her ability to keep her sordid history a secret. Her sisters were good girls and now upstanding women, married to pillars in the community, revered by the deputy and her landlady. Why couldn’t she have been more like them?
    Aunt Alma stepped around them. “Miss Hattie, I’m Alma Shindlebower. And I’m most pleased to make—”
    “Aunt Alma!” After embracing their aunt, Miss Hattie waved them all inside. “Land sakes if I haven’t heard a boatload about you.”
    “And I about you. I understand you’ve taken real good care of our girls.”
    “I try.” Miss Hattie’s wink deepened the webbing at the corners of her blue-gray eyes.
    “And a fine job you’ve done. Even found first-rate husbands for them, from what I hear.”
    Vivian could abide hearing the same five songs again and again, but matchmaking was an entirely different matter. A complete waste of the woman’s time.
    “Can’t take much credit,” Miss Hattie said. “They have the good Lord to thank for those matches.”
    Vivian’s stomach clenched. She’d frustrated the Lord’s match for her.
    Miss Hattie offered Vivian a warm smile. “I say we rest and visit for a spell in the parlor while we wait for your trunk to arrive.”
    Vivian followed her new landlady into an inviting room with flocked wallpaper and a polished mantel. A hint of lemon oil tickled her nose. The Edison phonograph she’d heard about posed in the corner. A teacart stood at the end of the sofa, complete with a teapot puffing steam and a full platter of cookies. Ida poured tea for each of them while Kat handed everyone a plate.
    Miss Hattie set her teacup and cookies on a side table near the window and settled into the Queen Anne chair beside it. She pulled a footstool in line with her chair and propped up her feet, shoes and all. “Was your train late?”
    Breathing in the scent of peppermint tea, Vivian carried her dishes to the sofa table and joined Nell and Aunt Alma on the sofa. She expected her aunt to respond to the woman’s question, but apparently she was just as weary of the recounting as Vivian was. “I apologize for the delay, ma’am. We were late disembarking due to bandits.”
    “On the train?” Miss Hattie shoved the footstool away and planted her feet on the