Free The Barefoot Bride by Joan Johnston Page B

his upper lip, conscious of the flare of excitement he felt at the thought of making love with his wife. He let his eyes find her again. She was beautiful in the violet dress, but he would rather have seen her in a brighter color. It had been nearly a year since her husband's death. Surely by now she was ready to set aside the memories of another man.
    Only now that he thought of it, in her last letter to him, nearly every sentence had beenwritten to reflect her relationship to her late husband: “James thought.” “James believed.” “James said.” He had to admit that didn't sound like a woman who had permanently laid her first husband to rest.
    But she would. He wasn't asking her to love him; he didn't expect to love her. His late wife held his heart in a grip that was as strong as it had been the day she died. No one could ever touch him that way again. Of that he was very sure. The stone wall around his heart was firmly in place.
    But that didn't mean he couldn't
want
another woman. He very much wanted the woman he had made his wife. She might have memories of James Gallagher, but he would be the man sleeping in her bed tonight.
    The tug on his pants leg surprised him. When he looked down, he met a miniature pair of brown eyes like Molly's. “Hello, Nes-sie,” he said. “Is there something I can do for you?”
    “Are you going to be my new da?” the little girl asked.
    Seth cleared his throat to give himself time to think. “I suppose so,” he said at last.
    “Will you pick me up?”
    When she reached up, he grasped her atthe waist and lifted her into the air. A burble of surprised laughter escaped her lips. Seth marveled at how light and fragile a four-year-old could be.
    And felt a small crack in the stone around his heart as he settled her in his arms so they were eye to eye.
    “Whit doesn't like you,” Nessie promptly announced.
    “He doesn't?”
    “No. He didn't want you to marry Mama.”
    “Oh?”
    “So he helped Patch find Mama's boots.”
    “Why would he do that?”
    “So Patch could throw them in the river, of course.”
    “Of course,” Seth said. His eyes sought out his daughter, and he found her sulking in a corner of the parlor. “Why would Patch want to do a thing like that?” he asked, afraid he already knew the answer.
    “Patch said no lady would ever go barefoot to her own wedding.”
    Seth thought about that for a second and asked, “Are you saying that your mother is barefoot?”
    “Well, of course she is,” Nessie replied as though he were a particularly slow student,to whom things had to be explained twice. “Patch threw her boots into the river.”
    “Of course,” Seth repeated in a slightly stunned voice. He searched for Molly and perused the hem of her skirt. He hadn't really thought much before about the fact that it dragged on the floor. Then Molly took a step, and he distinctly saw several toes beneath the violet fabric.
    As he watched, Ethan returned to the room with a small brown-paper-wrapped package, which he handed to Molly with a grin.
    Shoes,
Seth realized.
    A series of feelings assaulted Seth, leaving him shaken. First, there was embarrassment that his daughter would do such an awful thing, in defiance of all propriety. Second, there was disappointment that Molly would go to Ethan for help instead of coming to him. Third, there was certainty that he had chosen the right woman for his wife. Raising Patch to be a lady was going to be a considerable challenge. It appeared that Molly Gallagher would be equal to the task.
    When Patch saw her father pick up Nessie Gallagher, she felt sick to her stomach. Nessie had attached herself like a leech, and her pa seemed more than willing to hold the littleintruder. Patch couldn't remember the last time her father had held her in his arms like that. Not that she wanted him to, mind you. Or would let him if he tried. But he was
her
father. And she didn't intend to share him!
    Patch glanced over to where Molly Gallagher