Free Michelle: Bride of Mississippi (American Mail-Order Bride 20) by Cindy Caldwell Page A

yesterday.” She reached for the umbrella and nodded as she looked down at her boys.
    Anthony crouched down, unwrapping his scarf and wrapping it around the toddler’s neck. He placed his hat on the head of the middle boy, and shrugged off his gloves, handing them to the tallest.
    “You’re welcome. Have a safe trip home.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his overcoat and watched as the family walked quickly toward the heart of town and he turned toward his shop.
    His hands were almost frozen by the time he reached it, and he fumbled getting the key in the lock. He opened the door and stepped inside, closing it quickly behind him.
    He leaned against the door and turned the sign on the door to “open” just as the heavens opened and the rain poured. He shivered, hoping that the young family had reached their destination safely and warmly before now.
    Looking around the shop, he wondered if there would be many customers today with this weather, and he walked slowly behind the counter. He looked around at the merchandise--formal clothing for both men and women. He’d worked in the store with his father for many years, and watched the sales--and the clientele--dwindle year after year.
    “Father, people just don’t want fancy clothes as much as they used to. Besides, the train can bring all of this in much cheaper, and we’re not selling near as many items as we used to.” Anthony couldn’t count how many times he and his father had had that very conversation before his parents died.
    “Poppycock, son. Things like this never go out of style.”
    Anthony shook his head slowly as he walked around the store, fingering the velvet dresses and wiping the dust off a black top hat.
    His father had remained steadfast. He’d been a social bastion of the community his whole life, and after the war ended, he’d maintained that things were as they always had been. Anthony couldn’t remember how many grand, southern houses he’d been to where silver tea sets were placed on nearly every table in the winter, and porcelain pitchers filled with sweet tea in the summer--while everyone had worn clothes like these.
    He peered out the window of the store. If his father had been there, he would have said, “Maybe they’ll never go out of style, Father, but the people who mostly want them--and will pay for them--are not in Corinth. And the people who are here need something different.”

Chapter 15
    M ichelle sat in her room , watching the stars out the window as the moon rose. While she sat, she couldn’t stop thinking about Anthony, certain that he’d wanted to tell her something but hadn’t. It was early, though--she’d only arrived the day before last, and she imagined that it took a while to learn to trust each other, even if the two had married for love.
    She’d eventually stretched and changed into her nightdress, falling in to a deep sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. So deep, in fact, that when she woke, she wondered if it had all been a dream. As she looked around the room and pulled the warm comforter up around her ears for a moment before she hopped out of bed, she realized that it all was, in fact, real. Very real.
    She’d gotten dressed in a hurry, splashed her face and brushed her red ringlets as best she could. She twirled them on her finger, pinning most of them in a chignon at the nape of her neck with a few left out to frame her face. She frowned at her freckles for the thousandth time and sighed. She didn’t have time any longer to worry about things she couldn’t change--freckles and red hair being two of them.
    She stepped out of her room and ran her hand along the gleaming banister as she paused to look out the window on the landing. Branches danced in the wind and it seemed as if overnight, all of the leaves had fallen, the bare branches reaching into the dark sky which, if she had been in Lawrence, she would be sure held rain. She reached out and placed her hand on the window, drawing it