Free Cinders' Bride: Mail Order Brides of Texas by Kathleen Ball Page A

Butterflies released in her stomach and her mouth went dry. Never before had she seen anything so appealing. The fact she’d been leaning against his chest moments ago turned her face hot.
    A cocky grin spread over his face and she snapped right out of her wicked thoughts. She wet the rag. “An arrow did this? So what happened to the arrow?”
    “It just nicked me and flew over your head. You had your eyes closed.”
    “Good thing I had my eyes closed.” Dabbing at his wound she shook her head. “So close to being in your arm.”
    He stilled her hands. “But we’re fine.” He gazed into her eyes. “All that matters is we’re safe.”
    His thumbs stroked her knuckles and helped stop the shaking. “You’re right. I need my hands back to sew you up.”
    “No, I—”
    “He doesn’t like needles,” Cookie announced as he walked into the cabin. “Acts like a little girl, he does. It’s the same thing every time.”
    Cinders frowned at Cookie. “Don’t listen to him. Go ahead and do your worst.”
    She looked from Cinders to Cookie, then back to Cinders again, and shrugged. “Ready?”
    Cinders nodded but his face lost all color the moment she touched him. He flinched.
    “I’ll be as quick and gentle as I can.” She pushed the needle through his skin and a bead of sweat appeared on his brow.
    “Is that what he said to you on your wedding night?” Tramp laughed, as he entered the house.
    Stopping mid-stitch, her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
    “That’s what he says to all the virgins, but if that wasn’t the case…”
    Cinders didn’t even open his eyes. “Get back to work, Tramp.”
    “Sure thing, Boss.”
    “He didn’t mean anything by it,” Cookie explained. “He talks first and thinks later, if at all.”
    She sent him a brief smile and continued sewing. “George.”
    His lips twitched. “Nope.”
    “Lionell.”
    “Nope.”
    “Calvin.”
    “What in tarnation are you two doing? Are you thinking of baby names?”
    She felt him stiffen as she finished the last stitch.
    “We don’t need baby names. She’s trying to guess my first name and don’t you dare tell her what it is.”
    “I think Calvin is a good baby name,” Cookie said.
    “I said there will be no babies.”
    The finality in his voice shook her. For a moment she'd forgotten how she looked, but his refusal to bed her brought it all back. “It’s just a game we play, Cookie. I bet those men are getting mighty hungry.”
    “When aren’t they? I’ll go and butcher the cow you brought in, Boss.”
    Cinders nodded and waited for Cookie to leave.
    “I’m sorry about Tramp. He has no cause to talk that way in front of you. I don’t kiss and tell.”
    “Or not kiss and tell?”
    He stood up and kissed her forehead. “Something like that. Thank you for patching me up and fighting Indians with me today.” He smiled. “The more I know you, the better I like you.”
    “Is that a compliment?”
    Grabbing his hat and shirt he walked toward the door, then turned. “Just the truth.”
    As soon as she was alone, she slumped into the chair. What a doozy of a day. She expected some excitement coming out West but she never imagined it would be this intense. The blood that had been pumping through her body began to slow. What would she have done if Cinders had been killed? Would she be at the mercy of men like John Hardy again? She shivered and dread filled her gut as her stomach began to roll.
    If she were a man, life would be so different, but there was no point in lamenting about things that couldn’t be changed. Once her stomach calmed, Cinders’ fine form took over her thoughts. He certainly was a handsome devil. She frowned, knitted her fingers together, and shook her head. She’d never have a wedding night or children. Cinders had been quite adamant about that. Loneliness shrouded her until Cookie came in with enough meat to feed the men twice.
     
    ****
     
    Later after the men finished eating and the dishes were