Free The Bartender's Mail Order Bride by Cindy Caldwell

saw only amusement in his eyes, along with interest.
    “Sort of, I suppose, although I wasn’t the best student in the world. I always wanted to be outside, or singing.”
    “Singing?” he said, frowning. “You have music training? I know that I mentioned that in my ad, but we hadn’t had a chance to discuss it.”
    “In fact, yes, I do. My mother was an accomplished pianist and I learned to sing and all about vocal harmonies from her.”
    Sam smiled, but Meg felt it wasn’t a happy smile—more melancholy. She looked from Sam to the piano, and decided that her first night as his bride might not be the best time to ask him about something that appeared to be painful. It could wait at least until tomorrow.
    “That’s very nice. An appreciation of music is quite a…gift,” he said as he glanced quickly at the piano. Or at the sheet that covered the piano.
    Meg couldn’t stop the yawn that came, and covered her mouth as she attempted to stifle it, fatigue flooding over her all at once.
    Sam stood and said, “I should have thought how tired you must be. Are you hungry for supper? We could then just retire early.”
    “Honestly, I’m not a bit hungry between the late feast and our tea. Are you? I could make you something.”
    He shook his head. “No, no, it’s been quite a long day and I’m happy to retire, as well.”
    “It’s still a little early,” Meg said, glancing toward the grandfather clock that was just about to strike seven o’clock. “What if we each retire to our rooms and finish the assignment, so in the morning we’ll be ready to start studying the answers?”
    Sam’s eyes twinkled as he held out his arm to walk her upstairs. “Assignment, is it?”
    She was flustered for a moment, then realized that he was now, in fact, teasing her.
    “I suppose, yes, an assignment. We want to be successful at appearing to be a happy, long-married couple when your mother arrives, don’t we? This should do the trick.”
    “Yes, yes, that is the goal, I’m afraid. And tomorrow, I have to figure out some way to convince her that I have a job other than as a bartender, too.”
    “There’s always James and Suzanne to ask.”
    “Yes, and a few more friendly offers from friends. I’ll explain over breakfast. Meet you in the kitchen around sun-up? Do you get up that early?”
    Meg laughed…her job milking cows and collecting eggs for the past few years had trained her that early to bed and early to rise was in her best interests. A necessity, actually.
    “Of course. I’m an early riser and truthfully enjoy it.”
    “Hmm…as a bartender I am definitely not and early riser, but I’ve been practicing a change of habits for the time my mother is here. I’m just fortunate that Tripp found a replacement for me. I would have hated to leave him with no one to tend bar.”
    Meg hadn’t considered that Samuel would have to leave his job for his mother’s stay. It appeared that things were a little more complicated than she anticipated.
    “That will be fine,” she said as Samuel stopped in front of a door that she assumed was her room. The long hallway had two doors on each side, rather large for a house in town, and she looked forward to her tour the next day.
    “I’ve left warm water in a basin there for you on the vanity. At least it was warm when I did it.” He laughed and stuck his finger in the basin, frowning as he removed it. “Not so warm now. Would you like something warmer?”
    Meg went to the basin and lowered her finger in as well. The water was tepid, not cold, so she said, “It’s fine. Thank you. It was thoughtful of you.”
    Sam shook his head as he set the last of her bags at the foot of her bed. “It’s the least I can do, Meg. Thank you again for helping me with this. If there’s anything I can get you, I’m right next door.”
    “Thank you, Sam.” Sam closed the door behind him. “And good night,” she said under her breath, looking around at her new home.
    Her heart beat