Free Della: Bride of Texas (American Mail-Order Bride 28) by Trinity Ford

“I’d be happy to host your nuptials out at the Double H ranch as my gift to you two.” It was a sprawling ranch home with all of the amenities that could be found at the time—much too big for one man who lived by himself, which might be the reason Hank spent more time in Hell’s Half Acre than he did inside his own walls.
    Although Hank didn’t need the home, it was a show place for those business associates who passed through Fort Worth and for those who doubted his success. It was unlike any other home in the town, with two extensive wings flanking Greek columns in front. Hank had imported marble, mirrors and the best accessories money could buy and the townsfolk were always agape when lucky enough to be invited over for an event.
    “That’s very kind of you, but…” Della quickly interjected.
    “But,” Milton interrupted. “We’d be delighted! That’s very generous of you,” Milton said excitedly, plainly considering the monetary savings and status of the event over his soon-to-be bride’s feelings.
    “Yes,” Della sighed, acquiescing to Milton’s desire. “That would be wonderful.” She bowed her head in defeat and when she looked up, Hank noticed tears brimming in her eyes. He knew Della didn’t have any money, so she probably felt obligated to go along with whatever Milton said.
    “Would you excuse me? I have a pressing bank matter I must return to,” Milton said as he glanced around to see what other prominent Fort Worth citizen he might impress. “Please do let me know if you need anything else.” The two nodded as Milton made his way back to his office.
    “Good day, Mr. Hensley,” Della said.
    “Good day, Miss Owens,” Hank said. “I reckon I’ll be in touch so we can plan the wedding— not ours , of course—yours and Tidwell’s.”
    “I know exactly what you mean, Mr. Hensley,” Della said. The defeat in her eyes that she showed before was quickly replaced with acute anger.
    Hank smiled, tipped his hat and exited the bank. He felt angry for her, being in this impossible, loveless situation with Milton. Hank knew what it felt like to have to rely on others—and to try hard to love someone who wasn’t worth loving, only to get no acknowledgment from them at all. It’s all he’d ever known as a child. Della deserved more than that—and Hank was starting to wonder if it was his mission to make sure she got it.
     

Chapter 7
     
    Not ours , Della thought as she repeated the words of Hank Hensley from the previous day. Imagine being married to Hank Hensley of all people! While she tried feigning disgust at the thought, she couldn’t help but notice that thoughts of marrying Milton registered no emotion whatsoever.  She wasn’t sure which was worse—anger or apathy.
    But now wasn’t the time to get bogged down in those thoughts. There was a party starting shortly, and Della was excited about attending her first event in Fort Worth, Texas. She’d heard about previous celebrations, but in her short time there, all she’d been able to get a feel for was daily life, which she enjoyed.
    A nice routine was developing for Della—and she liked waking up each morning, knowing what to expect. Breakfast was served early—at a table where Roy, Mary and Della enjoyed their discussion filled with laughter as Helen sat sour-faced and silent. A tutor would arrive, courtesy of Hank Hensley, just as Roy and Della were leaving, to spend the day working with Mary on her lessons. Della would always eat lunch in the store, while Roy went home at midday to eat with his daughter and check in on her. He would return and close up the store with Della, and she would help Helen with supper later that evening. It was a life filled with good friendships, honest work and prayer—the kind of life she’d always imagined for herself.
    In less than an hour, Della would be fetched by Milton, according to the formal invitation he’d sent, along with a small sum to purchase a dress for the occasion.