Grace: Bride of Montana (American Mail-Order Bride 41) by Debra Holland Page B

Frey carried the pots outside and tossed the contents over the rail of the back porch.
    Seth picked up George and kissed the baby. “Come on, dear Mrs. Flanigan. The horses are hitched. Night’s falling earlier, and we want to get home before it’s as black as pitch.”
    His wife wrinkled her nose. “There’s a half moon tonight, so it won’t be pitch dark.” But even as Trudy spoke, she handed a basket to Grace, another to Seth, and pointed out the boxes for Frey to pick up. She left behind the hatbox because half the cake remained inside.
    In the parlor, the Flanigans’ coats lay on the sofa. Trudy buttoned Anna into hers and handed a thick blanket to Seth to wrap around the baby. Then she donned her coat and wound a scarf around her neck. She leaned in to kiss Grace’s cheek, and then pulled on Frey’s shirt so he’d bend down so she could peck his cheek. “May the good Lord bless your marriage.”
    “Thank you,” they both murmured.
    Frey took Grace’s hand, and they walked out on the porch to watch the Flanigans climb into the wagon.
    Gertie, who’d been watching the preparations, pressed against Frey’s leg.
    Seth flicked the reins and started the horses walking. With a pair of waves, the couple called out their good-byes.
    In only a minute, the family was out of sight, leaving Grace alone with her new husband.
    They stood in silence for a moment.
    Frey pulled her to his side, and slipped an arm around her back. “Well, Mrs. Foster? How are you managing so far?”
    Grace smiled up at him. “Far better than expected. I do need something more though.”
    “Whatever you wish.”
    She gave him a coquettish look from under lowered eyelashes. “I’m desperately in need of a bath. And we have such a lovely bathroom….” Grace found she liked flirting with her husband.
    He gently tapped her nose. “Luckily, you’ve asked for something I can provide. Why don’t you go upstairs and get yourself ready? I’ll run the water for you.” He squeezed her waist and released her.
    “Will you want to take one after me?”
    “No, I bathed earlier. You take your time.”
    They started to move to the door when Frey stopped. “Oh, would you mind Gertie in the house? We’ve always been companions, and she’s used to being inside with me.”
    Grace considered his question, glancing from Frey down to Gertie.
    The two stared back with almost identical anxious expressions. She couldn’t help but find both man and dog appealing. “I suppose not, providing Gertie’s not muddy or doesn’t have fleas.”
    “No fleas, and if she has any mud, I’ll wipe her off beforehand.”
    “Why, then I think it’s fine.”
    His face showed the happy expression she’d already become familiar with. Her heart responded with a lift.
    He hugged her tight. “Thank you, Grace. That means a lot to me.”
    Her face pressed into his chest, and she had to turn so her cheek rested against him. Oh, my! Hugging a big man is certainly a different experience. Frey’s spontaneous embrace both flustered and pleased her.
    Frey released her, lowering his arms to his side.
    “You’re welcome.” Sure her face must be flushed, Grace fled into the house. She stopped in the kitchen to remove her apron and fold it over the back of a chair. Then she grabbed handfuls of her full skirts and hurried up the stairs. I can hardly wait to get out of this corset!
    Inside her room, she shut the door and paused a moment to catch her breath. She untied the bow in back of her bodice, but then had to awkwardly reach behind and tug the tight crisscross lacings apart enough to wiggle the bodice over her head and struggle out of it. Frustrated with the effort, she dropped the garment on the bed and undid the sash of the skirt.
    A knock sounded at the door. “The tub’s full,” Frey called. “I left a towel and washcloth for you. They’re a bit ragged, though.”
    “Thank you.” Grace shimmied out of the skirt and spread it out on the bed, then she unlaced