Walker's Wedding by Lori Copeland Page A

“What brings you all the way out here? Are you and Flo at it again?”
    â€œNo, I’m…” She struggled to remember the purpose of her visit. “I…”
    â€œCame to see ol’ Bessie here?” S.H. teased, slapping the cow on her side.
    â€œNo.” Sarah felt her cheeks turn hot. “I thought you might be thirsty. I brought lemonade.”
    Both men chuckled and Walker released the calf, which ran bawling back to its mother. Then he lifted Sarah down from the mare and their eyes met and held for a long moment. Shivers raced down her spine. Was he beginning to love her a tiny bit?
    He released her and then took the lemonade from the saddlebag and removed the lid. “Will you join us?” he asked, pouring the liquid into the tin cups she held for him.
    â€œI’m not thirsty.” Sarah could smell sweat and a mixture of shaving soap and musk.
    S.H. took a long swallow. “Think I’ll find some shade down by the creek.”
    Walker took a drink and then admitted, “Sounds like a good idea. It’s warming up.” When the foreman wandered off, her husband glanced her way. “Sure you won’t have some?”
    Declining the invitation, she dabbed perspiration off her brow. She didn’t want to delay his work or be a hindrance to him.
    His eyes skimmed her lightly. “Is that one of your new outfits?
    She performed a mock curtsy. “Do you like it?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know much about women’s clothing. If Martha likes it, then it’s fine.”
    Martha? What about me?
    Walker sauntered to the stream, picked up a stone, and skipped it across the water. Sarah wished that S.H. weren’t there so they could be alone. As if reading her mind, the old ranch foreman wandered farther downstream.
    â€œIt is really warm today,” she observed.
    Nodding, he washed his face in the stream, and then ducked his head underwater. Coming up, he shook his head, water flying everywhere.
    Standing back, Sarah admired him, overcome with contentment. That’s what she loved about her new husband. He was comfortable around her. He didn’t act like a besotted fool—though a little more affection would be welcome. But that would come in time. They were growing closer every day.
    Lifting her face to the sweltering sun, she silently prayed. Dear Lord, I know I acted foolishly and unwisely, but it’s turned out well. So well that I’m giddy with happiness. Thank you. And Papa will thank you once he meets Walker.
    Sarah doubted that even Wadsy could find fault with this man.

Chapter Thirteen

    S arah stepped out the back door that evening, drawing her wrap tighter around her shoulders. The air had cooled tonight, reminding her of Boston. Martha had included this beautiful soft wrap as a wedding present with the first dress she’d finished, and Sarah was thankful for its warmth.
    Somewhere nearby, a wild animal called to its mate. Wolf? Coyote? Ordinarily she’d be curious to learn the source, but tonight she was just too tired to care. Sinking down onto the porch swing, Sarah thought about the long, exciting week, the wedding, then the days following when she’d acquainted herself with the rules and ways of ranch life. Papa would be quick to tell her she’d made her bed and now she’d have to sleep in it, but what a lovely bed it was. Walker was still detached in his new role, but she hoped that would change.
    A smile raised the corners of her mouth and she shivered from thoughts of the tenderness Walker showed in the marriage bed. He was mindful of her innocence. She knew little of a man’s way, but Wadsy had told her that all men were not alike. Some were good, and others were just plain inconsiderate. But not Walker. He was perfect.
    Afraid he might read her thoughts, Sarah quickly looked away when the screen door creaked and her husband walked out. He paused, gazing up at the star-studded