His Brother's Bride by Denise Hunter Page B

peg and lit it. She turned and watched as he unhitched the horses with sure, strong movements. He was an enigma, this man. This brother of her dear friend, Thomas. How she wished she’d had a brother or a father who’d been alive long enough for her to figure out how a man’s mind worked. As it was, she was at a loss. Surely most men were nothing like Uncle Stewart.
    One day Cade was like a stranger living in the same house, and the next he’s like a friend who wants to be my—
    Her throat grew dry at the thought, and her traitorous heart beat a jig she was sure Reverend Hill would disapprove of. You’re being silly, Emily. He’s just a man. He only wanted you to light the lantern, and here you stand staring after him like a forlorn schoolmarm at a barn dance. Why he’d probably think you were daft if he even knew the directions of your—
    It was only then she’d noticed he was standing in front of her. Not just in front of her but right in front of her. Surely no more than a whistle away. The glow of light hit his face at all the right angles, kissing his upper cheekbones, letting shadows seep into the recesses of his jaw. His dark lashes had lowered to nearly his cheekbones, leaving just a sliver of those sparkling eyes in view. She’d give the baby quilt she’d worked on for weeks for just an inkling of what was going on behind them.
    â€œI’ve been praying, Emily.”
    â€œOh?” If her heart jumped any harder, surely it would bump his chest.
    â€œYou know, about us.”
    She nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. He’d long ago slid the hat from his head, and the dark strands of hair framed his face, the light glimmering off them.
    â€œYou’ve been a gift to Adam and me. A gift from God, and I got to wondering how He’d feel about how accepting I’ve been of that gift.” He lowered his head, the shadows enshrouding his face. “I reckon it must look to God like I took the gift He gave me, put it on a shelf, and said ‘no thanks.’ ”
    Her face heated at his words. Her heart kept tempo with the music in her soul, and she held her breath waiting for the words she hoped to hear.

Twelve
    â€œLast night I told God ‘thank You,’ ” Cade said. “He’s sent me a wonderful mother for my son and a wonderful woman to be my wife.” The flesh of his palm found her cheek, and his thumb rubbed across her lips until she thought her knees would give way.
    â€œWhen we married, I didn’t know you wanted young ’uns. Shoulda known, I guess, but I didn’t give it much thought. I was too wrapped up in my own needs.” His other hand found her face, and she felt wonderfully surrounded by the comfort of his flesh.
    â€œWhat I’m trying to say, I suppose, is that I’d like to give this marriage a fighting chance—if you’re willing, that is.”
    Eyes the color of a blue spruce questioned her in the glow of the lamplight. Her heart took flight at his words.
    â€œI’ve come to care for you a great deal, Emily. I think we make a good match, you and I. And I’d like to. . .I’d like to court you the way a man courts a woman. I don’t know much about you, but I want to learn everything. I want to know whether you wore hair ribbons as a girl and if some boy ever broke your heart. I want to know how you feel about moving here to Cedar Springs, and—I want to know if you could ever care for me.”
    His last sentence ended in a whisper she felt all the way to her toes. His lips, inches away, begged to be kissed. She looked deeply into his eyes, hoping he’d read her feelings there, because suddenly, not a word would squeak from her parched throat.
    His lips lowered onto hers, slowly, maddeningly slowly. Her heart quickened, and she met his lips with a desperation born of loneliness and desire. His lips teased with soft brushes, tasting, testing, until