Della: Bride of Texas (American Mail-Order Bride 28) by Trinity Ford Page B

finish this day as fast as possible. On the way, Della sat in silence as he drove the carriage, mulling over the events of the day in her head. A part of her was proud of the fact that someone had spent that kind of money on her. It still didn’t excuse Hank’s behavior, but Della smiled when she recalled how the other girls looked when the bid came in. And truth be told, Hank was right—she didn’t have any desire to spend the day with Milton, although Hank wasn’t high on her list of desired company, either. At least she could expect some stimulating conversation now.
    Hank took Della to a small, spring-fed pond. It was surrounded and protected by some of the most beautiful vegetation Della had seen since moving to the frontier. There were weeping willows—their branches leaning toward the water as if to kiss the shiny stillness. Vines grew everywhere and some sported colorful flowers that scented the air surrounding the pond. Boulders were stacked and leaning against each other on one side of the pond, creating a small waterfall for the fresh spring water flowing strong after the recent rains.
    As the wagon came to a stop, Della noticed two deer skittering from the edge of the pond. It was so calm and peaceful that the only sounds she heard were the birds twittering from the treetops.
    Hank hopped down and turned to help Della from the carriage. His hands circled her waist and he lifted her down slowly, bringing her face to face with him. “I hope I didn’t make you too mad and that we can enjoy our day,” Hank said softly as he looked into her eyes. Milton had never helped her down off his wagon.
    Della looked up at Hank and for the first time let herself be free of the anger and disappointment she felt at her plans failing to work out once again, and enjoy the fact that a man as handsome as Hank was doting on her. She had to admit, he’d done a good deed that day, even if it did interfere with her original plans. “Well,” she said coyly, turning her face away. “I suppose I can forgive you since it was for a fund raising event.”
    “That’s mighty kind of you,” Hank said. “Shall we?” He took the picnic hamper in one hand and held out his other arm for Della.
    Della laced her arm with his and they walked toward a soft, grassy area near the edge of the pond. “It’s beautiful here,” she said as she looked out over the water. “Breathtaking.”
    “Yes,” Hank said, looking pointedly at her instead of the pond. “Roy and Helen treating you right?”
    “Roy and Mary, yes,” Della said. “But Helen doesn’t treat Roy very well after…” her voice trailed off, not wanting to embarrass Hank.
    “After what I did,” Hank said/ Della hung her head and nodded.
    Della blushed. She took the blanket and spread it out, motioning for Hank to join her. “What is this place?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
    “It’s where I used to come when we first moved here,” Hank said.
    “You and your parents?” Della asked as she opened the hamper and began to remove utensils and food containers. She carefully unwrapped the food she had so carefully prepared for her and Milton and fixed a plate for Hank and herself.
    “Me and my…” Hank started. “Me and the man who raised me as his son.”
    “And your ma?” Della prodded. The smell of the food was mouth-watering and both of them were starving. Della noticed that Hank was diving into the meal like it was his last. She surmised that he didn’t get too many home-cooked meals with the hours he worked and the places he frequented.
    “She didn’t raise me,” Hank said in a matter-of-fact manner. “Floyd Hensley—the man who gave me his name—brought me here and stepped in to raise me, but he took off when I was around eighteen years old. Been here ever since. I love Fort Worth. Just not sure it’s learned to love me back.”
    “Well you seem to be doing very well here,” Della said.
    “Depends on what you call very well ,” Hank