Walker's Wedding by Lori Copeland Page B

sky.
    â€œThought you’d be in bed by now.”
    â€œNo.” She fussed with her wrap, determined to ignore the powerful set of his shoulders. “Care to join me?” She patted the seat beside her. “It’s a lovely evening.”
    â€œI didn’t plan on staying out long. Just needed a breath of fresh air.”
    â€œPlease. Sit.” She scooted aside, making a place beside her. He eased down, the swing creaking beneath his added weight. The aroma of soap and the sunshine scent of his freshly ironed shirt drifted to her. Flo took care with his clothing, pressing each garment with a hot iron. Sarah had stood before Walker’s open closet for a long time that morning, familiarizing herself with her husband’s taste. He liked blue, with just a hint of starch in his collars. Denims were his choice of work clothes, but for social occasions he favored khaki, white shirts, and brown suits. Walker McKay was fastidious about his appearance, and that suited her fine.
    The swing moved quietly back and forth. Moonlight bathed the honeysuckle trail along the front porch. Sarah could see a light burning in the bunkhouse. She’d yet to become friends with the ranch hands, but she would make it a goal to get to know them all soon. She intended to be a vital part of her husband’s life in every way.
    â€œAre you settling in comfortably?”
    Sarah shifted at the sound of his voice, pulling her back to the present. “Yes, thank you. As long as I stay out of Flo’s way.”
    â€œI take it you haven’t had much experience in the kitchen.”
    â€œNo…well, a little.” She’d watched Will cook. And Wadsy had tried to teach her the finer arts of homemaking, but the lesson had not sank in. She much preferred reading magazines, wedding notices, or stories about faraway lands. Someday she wanted to go to Ireland, but Papa was always too busy to travel. Once he’d promised to take her, but he never had, and he had frowned on her going alone.
    â€œI thought your letter said you cooked,” Walker said.
    â€œI do. A little.” Very little.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. Flo is going to be rattled if you don’t let her take care of the house and meals.”
    Sarah didn’t intend to move in and abolish Flo’s position in Walker’s home, but she would like the freedom to consult with the housekeeperabout food and furniture placement. She wanted to fit in, and part of fitting in meant being a wife and performing wifely duties, but she also knew she couldn’t storm in and demand that everyone change for her. Eventually Flo would allow her into the kitchen, and she’d be careful not to overstep her bounds.
    The hypnotic sound of the creaking swing blended with the sounds of the early spring evening. This is what I’ve wanted all my life. Husband and wife enjoying each other’s company at the end of the day. And soon, if the good Lord blessed them, there would be three of them. A real family. Her life was finally perfect—with the exception of two small, niggling doubts. What she’d done was deceitful. And poor Papa. She must write the letter informing him of her marriage, but to do so meant telling Walker of her deception, and she wanted to be very sure there would be no retribution when she confessed her ploy. Fear that he would find the silly switch anything but what it was—a solution to everyone’s problems—troubled her. He did not seem the type of man to find a ruse amusing. The lie was the only fly in an otherwise blissful ointment. Papa would forgive her peccadillo, but would Walker forgive her? Especially after Trudy’s deception?
    â€œNice evening.”
    â€œYes, lovely.” Certainly he must be tired. He’d left the house shortly after sunup and hadn’t returned until supper. Flo said Walker wasn’t afraid of work. Like his father before him, he put in twelve to fourteen hours a