Julia: Bride of New York (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 11) by Callie Hutton Page B

women out there who must do things to support themselves that they would prefer not to do.”
    “Like marry a sheriff?” He grinned and took her hand.
     
     
    Fletcher stared out the window, his arm wrapped around Julia who snuggled against his chest. The wedding had apparently worn her out, and she’d fallen asleep only a couple of hours after the train had left the station. His thoughts were consumed with how difficult it was going to be to crawl into bed beside his lovely wife and not touch her.
    There were things he could use to keep her from getting with child, but in his hurry to get married and travel to pick up his daughter, he’d forgotten about it. Something he would have to rectify as soon as they returned.
    Another reason he’d been glad to hurry up the wedding was to get her out of the saloon. When Fletcher had told Mac that Julia wouldn’t be returning to work, she’d insisted on “earning her keep” by working at the jail again until they married. Even though it was only a few days, if he had to watch his rotating prisoners ogle her one more time, he would have blackened someone’s eye.
    He stared down at her, relaxed in sleep. After Laura, he’d sworn he’d never marry again. But getting Patty Ann back had become very important, and he couldn’t honestly face Catherine with his request to return his daughter without a woman by his side
    Apart from that, he liked Julia and found a lot to admire in his bride. She was honest, hard-working, compassionate, and smart. She also questioned everything he said and did. He imagined a lot of feisty encounters in the years to come.
    He truly did not want to watch another woman suffer trying to bring a child into the world. His child. He broke into a sweat, remembering the moaning and screaming that had accompanied the event. Even if she survived the ordeal, just thinking about her frail body swelling up and then attempting to push the baby out caused his last meal to rise up to the back of his throat.
    Julia was such a pretty little thing. He’d grown so accustomed to her limp that he barely noticed it anymore. He could certainly understand why she’d forgotten to mention it to Johnson when they’d exchanged letters. It was just a part of who she was. Not the best part, and most likely not the worst part. Her stubbornness surely outranked the limp.
     
     
    “Foxtail Grove, New Jersey. Next stop, Foxtail Grove, New Jersey.” The conductor made his way down the aisle, swinging a lantern in his hand. Fletcher opened his eyes and blinked a few times in the darkness. Pale moonlight shone through the window and fell like a silver wash over the passengers.
    He shifted slightly, having found himself resting his cheek on Julia’s soft hair. In her slumber, she’d wrapped her arms around his middle. He smiled and shook her shoulder. “Julia, time to wake up.”
    She mumbled something and burrowed herself further into his warmth.
    “Honey, we’re here. The next stop is Foxtail Grove.”
    “Oh.” She lifted her head and yawned. “That was fast.”
    He chuckled. “Time goes by quite a bit faster when you’re sleeping.”
    She fussed with her hair. “Goodness, I must be a mess.”
    “You look fine.” He reached under the seat to retrieve the food basket and handed it to Julia, who still looked confused. He stood and pulled down their overnight case from the shelf above their heads as the train began to slow, approaching the station.
    “What time is it?” Julia stretched and rubbed her eyes with her fists.
    Fletcher checked his timepiece. “Just past midnight.”
    “I’ve been asleep for hours. I didn’t realize I was that tired.”
    He took his seat again, placing the satchel in his lap. “All those wedding preparations.”
    Conversation ceased as the train rolled into the station, the brakes screeching loud enough to wake the dead. Steam covered the window, blocking the view. Foxtail Grove was a small town in northern New Jersey, one of the minor