His Perfect Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 1) by Merry Farmer
Authors: Merry Farmer
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stand the sight of that man,” Katie went on. “You’ve no idea how much trouble he causes around here.”
“He stirs things up with the Cheyenne too,” Aiden added. He raised a hand to greet another young family, waiting by the church door. “Dean, Emma. Come meet Franklin’s new wife.”
Corva was whisked into a round of introductions before she even made it inside of the church. Dr. and Mrs. Meyers and their children were sweet, happy people. They, in turn, introduced her to Mr. Kline, the shop-keeper, and Mrs. Patton, who worked as the cook at the Cattleman Hotel. A pretty, young maid from the hotel with Swedish coloring introduced herself as Olga, and after that, Corva began to lose track of the flood of new people.
When she was inside of the church searching for a place to sit, she realized Franklin had fallen behind. A stab of shame over leaving him struck her, but he didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to join the humming, chattering group of friends inside the church. In fact, he only made an effort to climb the church stairs—aided by Travis Montrose, who arrived with his brothers—once Rev. Pickering called people to take their seats for worship.
“Is everything all right?” she whispered to him once they had taken their seats beside Lucy and Gideon’s family, the gorgeous, colored light of the stained-glass windows bathing them.
Franklin’s lips twitched, and he leaned closer to her to say, “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be asking you?”
A funny tickle formed in her chest, almost as if he’d told a joke. She was more baffled than amused, though. She sat through the entire sermon, barely able to pay attention. Colored light and dark worry swirled around her. When the sermon was over and everyone rose to head back outside for Haskell’s weekly post-church, pre-baseball game potluck lunch, she was determined to ask her question again to be sure Franklin was happy.
“This must be Miss Corva Collier.” A tall, handsome gentlemen with dark, greying hair and eyes that danced with mischief approached her before she could form the question. “No, I’m sorry, that would be Mrs. Corva Haskell now.”
“Charlie.” Franklin nodded to the man, stepping aside so that a few other churchgoers could slip past them. “Corva, this is Mr. Garrett.”
That was all he needed to say. Corva turned to the man—his beautiful, petite, blond wife by his side and four adorable children around them—with a beaming smile. “Mr. Garrett, thank you so much for all of your efforts on behalf of Hurst Home. You have…you have no idea how important it is to those of us who live there.”
Charlie laughed, banishing whatever tears Corva was tempted to shed. “Believe me, I have an idea. My own background and upbringing were more perilous than I ever want to think about again.” He punctuated his remark by laying a hand on his older son’s head with a kind of relief in his eyes that only a parent who knew his children were safe could have. “Come outside, Mrs. Haskell, and see what kind of madness we all get up to on Sundays.”
Corva was so honored to have this man—a man who had changed her life with his generosity—eager to show her around that once again, she left Franklin behind before she thought better of it.
“The Sunday potluck started back when there were just a few families here,” Charlie explained. “We took turns getting together at each other’s houses, but before too long, there were simply too many of us to fit. That’s when we started having them at the church. Shortly after that is when the baseball league started.”
“We like to enjoy ourselves in Haskell,” Mrs. Garrett explained.
“I can see that,” Corva answered. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for Franklin. He had fallen behind entirely, and as the Garretts escorted her to a long, high tent that had been pitched—tables of food lined up in the shade under it—she lost track of him.
“He stirs things up with the Cheyenne too,” Aiden added. He raised a hand to greet another young family, waiting by the church door. “Dean, Emma. Come meet Franklin’s new wife.”
Corva was whisked into a round of introductions before she even made it inside of the church. Dr. and Mrs. Meyers and their children were sweet, happy people. They, in turn, introduced her to Mr. Kline, the shop-keeper, and Mrs. Patton, who worked as the cook at the Cattleman Hotel. A pretty, young maid from the hotel with Swedish coloring introduced herself as Olga, and after that, Corva began to lose track of the flood of new people.
When she was inside of the church searching for a place to sit, she realized Franklin had fallen behind. A stab of shame over leaving him struck her, but he didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to join the humming, chattering group of friends inside the church. In fact, he only made an effort to climb the church stairs—aided by Travis Montrose, who arrived with his brothers—once Rev. Pickering called people to take their seats for worship.
“Is everything all right?” she whispered to him once they had taken their seats beside Lucy and Gideon’s family, the gorgeous, colored light of the stained-glass windows bathing them.
Franklin’s lips twitched, and he leaned closer to her to say, “Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be asking you?”
A funny tickle formed in her chest, almost as if he’d told a joke. She was more baffled than amused, though. She sat through the entire sermon, barely able to pay attention. Colored light and dark worry swirled around her. When the sermon was over and everyone rose to head back outside for Haskell’s weekly post-church, pre-baseball game potluck lunch, she was determined to ask her question again to be sure Franklin was happy.
“This must be Miss Corva Collier.” A tall, handsome gentlemen with dark, greying hair and eyes that danced with mischief approached her before she could form the question. “No, I’m sorry, that would be Mrs. Corva Haskell now.”
“Charlie.” Franklin nodded to the man, stepping aside so that a few other churchgoers could slip past them. “Corva, this is Mr. Garrett.”
That was all he needed to say. Corva turned to the man—his beautiful, petite, blond wife by his side and four adorable children around them—with a beaming smile. “Mr. Garrett, thank you so much for all of your efforts on behalf of Hurst Home. You have…you have no idea how important it is to those of us who live there.”
Charlie laughed, banishing whatever tears Corva was tempted to shed. “Believe me, I have an idea. My own background and upbringing were more perilous than I ever want to think about again.” He punctuated his remark by laying a hand on his older son’s head with a kind of relief in his eyes that only a parent who knew his children were safe could have. “Come outside, Mrs. Haskell, and see what kind of madness we all get up to on Sundays.”
Corva was so honored to have this man—a man who had changed her life with his generosity—eager to show her around that once again, she left Franklin behind before she thought better of it.
“The Sunday potluck started back when there were just a few families here,” Charlie explained. “We took turns getting together at each other’s houses, but before too long, there were simply too many of us to fit. That’s when we started having them at the church. Shortly after that is when the baseball league started.”
“We like to enjoy ourselves in Haskell,” Mrs. Garrett explained.
“I can see that,” Corva answered. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for Franklin. He had fallen behind entirely, and as the Garretts escorted her to a long, high tent that had been pitched—tables of food lined up in the shade under it—she lost track of him.
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