Free Mail Order Devastation (Montana Mail Order Brides, Book 4) by Julianna Blake

He tipped his hat again.
    “ For me, as well, Mr. Jamison.” 
    He watched Miss Quinn as she followed the Porters out the church door and down the steps.  She cast one quick glance over her shoulder before she disappeared from view.
    She’s perfect! he thought.  She was well-mannered and soft-spoken, with the smallest hint of the Irish accent that she probably heard every day of her life in the home of her immigrant parents.   Her clothing was simple, but well cared for.  He looked forward to seeing her in finer clothes—though it was hard to imagine improving much on her natural beauty.
    The intricate hairstyle she wore complemented her fair skin and lovely features, and served to highlight her beauty.  He knew she ’d been a kitchen maid for a large house in Boston, which meant she’d be a fine cook with excellent kitchen skills, and an eagerness to please.  She was everything he had wanted in a wife.  The only thing that more time together could tell him was whether or not she would be an amiable companion, and his instincts told him she would. 
    There ’s no reason to wait.  He was eager to start his new life, and determined that he wouldn’t have to delay that life more than a day or two.  He imagined that in less than a week, he’d have a wife at home seeing to the cooking and cleaning and other duties, and most importantly, he would never have to come home to an empty house again.
     

Chapter 10
     
     
     
     
    Mollie checked her hair in the mirror, hands trembling from nerves.  What if he does n’ t like me?
    Sh e’ d spent the afternoon pacing the hotel room, like a lion in a cage.  She gone out earlier, in hopes of searching for the Demings, but between the cold winds and the fact that almost every establishment in town was shut down for Sunday observance, there were few people to inquire with, and she had returned to her room, disappointed. 
    How hard can it be to find a rich couple in their thirties, with an eleven-month-old child? she thought as she pulled a brush through her thick hair with vigor.  She had been so sure it would be easy to find a rich young couple in a frontier town.  But having learned how many miners had struck it rich in the area, she realized her job would be much harder than she expected.  She’d been told the couple were faithful Catholics, so she had scanned the parishioners closely as she had come in and gone out of the church that morning, but she had spotted no one matching the description of the Demings in attendance with a baby.
    She set the brush down, staring at her pallid face in the large mirror over the dresser.  What if I don’t find her?  What if they’ve already gone back to Boston?  Or settled in some other metropolitan area, anywhere in the country?  What if I never see my Nell again?
    She blinked back tears.  No!  No crying.  I must show Noah Jamison a fresh and happy face. He was crucial to her plans to reunite with her daughter.  Without him, she had no hope of convincing the Demings that she could care for a child, and that Nell belonged with her.
    She quickly twisted her hair up on her head, slipping in pins with nimble fingers.  I will be the picture of loveliness.  I will laugh and smile, no matter how much I am dying inside.  I will be the perfect woman for him—keep his home, cook his meals, tend to his every need. 
    And in every spare moment, I will search for my daughter.
     
    ***
     
    Twenty minutes later Mollie was seated in a quiet corner of the hotel ’s restaurant with Mr. Jamison and Mrs. Porter.  Everyone’s order was already placed, and they had come to the “getting to know each other” questions and conversation.
    Her strict mother had raised her to observe proper manners, so she managed to avoid staring at Mr. Jamison —but she watched him closely whenever he spoke, and the rest of the time, she stole glances at him when she could. 
    He was handsome —tall and trim, with a tidy appearance.  His brown