Free Bride Blunder by Kelly Eileen Hake Page B

avenues of escape. Let her look. He’d chosen well—with Josiah Reed at the far end of the counter, clear at the other end of the mercantile with another customer, Midge couldn’t pawn him off on anyone.
    At the same time, if she tried to go out the door, the bell would jangle to catch everyone’s attention. He already blocked the staircase, and good manners dictated she wouldn’t abandon Miss Chandler in any event. All he needed was time.
    â€œMiss Chandler?” He pitched his voice to carry up the stairs but not across the store.
    â€œYes, Mr. Geer?” The miller’s would-be-wife peeped over the top of the stairwell. “Will I not be able to find it?”
    â€œI’m sure you will. It’s to the left.” A smile would reassure her—and concern Midge—so he flashed one. “Mr. Reed might have mentioned a crate of primers up there, if you’d like to look for a moment.” He heard a quick exhalation from the woman at his side, the type of sound that could only be called a huff. His grin grew.
    â€œHe mentioned no such thing,” Midge spoke through gritted teeth. How anyone could call her something so stuffy as Miss Collins escaped Amos’s understanding.
    â€œI said he might have.”
    â€œWe both know better.”
    â€œThen tell me something I don’t know.” He really shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. “What did I do to set up your back?”
    â€œWhat makes you think you’re of any concern to me?” The imperiously raised brow could have fooled someone who hadn’t watched her systematic avoidance over the course of weeks.
    â€œSpeak plainly. Are you in a sulk because you think I don’t remember you?” He deliberately provoked her, intent to see whether she knew what he meant.
    â€œSulk?” She latched on to the word and ignored the question. “Grown women don’t indulge in sulks.”
    â€œA girl I met once did—at Fort Bridger.” Amos saw the flash of recognition in her eyes and felt a surge of satisfaction. She remembers.
    â€œDid she? If I had to make a guess, I’d say you deserved whatever she threw at you.” Her studied nonchalance missed its mark only because it was a shade too studied. “For amusement’s sake, why don’t you tell me about this so-called sulk.”
    She wants to know how much I remember. That boded well. For the first time, he caught a glimpse of the curiosity she kept contained around him. The curiosity that shone from her whenever she spoke with just about any other soul in Buttonwood—only to shutter when she glanced his way. Why?
    â€œScrawny gal.” He saw her eyes narrow at that. Good. “Thought her to be about eleven when I first caught sight of her poking her pretty little nose where it didn’t belong. Not time enough to shout a warning and be sure she’d hear me—much less heed it if she did—I ran up and pulled her away from the door.”
    Midge opened her mouth, obviously fixing to interrupt, but he held up a hand to stop her. She’d asked him to tell the story, and he’d finish his version before she got her say.
    â€œYou see, my brother Billy almost died in that room just a few days before, and it hadn’t been cleaned out. That nosy little girl could’ve died if I hadn’t saved her. But did she thank me for my troubles?” Amos shook his head mournfully as Midge’s glower grew still more fierce.
    â€œNo. Instead, she stomped on my foot, elbowed me in the ribs, and threatened me with a bloody nose. That little girl sure lucked out that I had a soft spot for freckles.”
    â€œYou grabbed me from behind with half the force of a freight train and no word of warning!” she burst out in rebuttal the moment he stopped. “Then had the nerve to tell me it wasn’t manhandling. Any male who sneaks up on a woman deserves whatever he gets—including