Free His Perfect Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 1) by Merry Farmer Page A

eight years, with…with my aunt and her husband, my…my Uncle Stanley.” For a moment, she turned downright green.
    The wave of protectiveness Franklin had felt before rushed through him again tenfold.
    “What did your uncle do?” Howard asked on.
    “Not much,” Corva murmured, then answered, “He was an instructor at University of Nashville.”
    “What did he teach?” Elizabeth asked.
    “Mathematics,” Corva answered, her voice quieter.
    “Why did he want to teach mathematics?” little Christopher asked, scrunching his face in a grimace.
    “He likes things that are logical,” Corva all but whispered.
    Franklin had to put a stop to this line of questioning. Clearly, it upset Corva, and he wouldn’t have that. “Dad, what are your plans for confronting Bonneville about the calves?”
    Behind them, Cody laid a few more logs on the fire to brighten the room, as if it wasn’t hot enough already in spite of the spring chill outside.
    “Now, now, son.” Howard shook a finger at him. “First things first. We’re investigating…I mean, learning about your wife.” He winked at Corva.
    Corva blushed and stared down at her plate.
    “Dad, maybe now isn’t the best time,” Franklin defended her.
    “Nonsense. Now, young lady, what about your parents? Where are they?”
    Corva swallowed. “My father was killed in the war. My mother died right after the war ended. That’s when I was sent to live with my Aunt Mildred, because the family thought we would cheer each other up.”
    “Well? Did you?” Howard demanded.
    Franklin cringed. He knew his father meant well, but he was like a grizzly bear in a house of cards. Franklin tried to shake his head to call his father off, but Howard was oblivious.
    “No, not really,” Corva answered. “Aunt Mildred didn’t like children. She…she married my Uncle Stanley two years later, but…” She closed her mouth and swallowed.
    Franklin saw the tell-tale signs of a woman about to cry. “Dad, I know you want to learn all about Corva, but this business with Bonneville is far more pressing. We need every one of those calves to stay with our herd if we stand a chance of increasing our numbers.”
    “The only solution I can think of is to keep the pregnant cows close to home,” Travis spoke up.
    Franklin sent him a nod of thanks for coming to the rescue.
    Howard sighed. “I doubt Bonneville himself is behind it. More likely it’s that bast—” He cleared his throat, darting a glance at the women and children present. “That scoundrel he’s got running his operation, Brandon.”
    “Kyle Brandon is a menace,” Travis growled.
    A snap sounded from the fireplace behind Franklin and Corva. Franklin ignored it, but Corva turned, as if only just realizing she’d been seated in front of it. The logs Cody had laid on the fire had caught and were now blazing away.
    One look at the flames, and Corva screamed, launching out of her chair. Her plate spilled to the carpet. She only made it two steps before stumbling over one of the children.
    Franklin thrust his plate aside and jumped up after her. “It’s okay,” he assured her, closing his arms around her and drawing her into an embrace, even though he wasn’t all that steady himself. “It’s okay.”
    Corva hid her face against his shoulder with a sob. She shook like a leaf, so Franklin tightened his hold around her. Throughout the room, his family and friends gaped and murmured in baffled surprise.
    “She lived through the burning of Atlanta,” he told them quietly.
    A few hums and nods of sympathy followed, but Corva continued to shake and refused to come out of hiding.
    “Move those chairs,” Howard ordered, blustering, but red-faced with embarrassment. “What fool put them there in the first place?”
    Probably him, but Franklin wasn’t going to say anything.
    “I’ll fix you a new plate, dear,” his mother said, patting Corva’s back as she skipped through the room to the dining room.
    “Why is Aunt