Free Josephine: Bride of Louisiana (American Mail-Order Bride 18) by Cindy Caldwell Page A

even in her drab, worn attire. Her laugh had lifted his heart even then, before he even knew who she was.
    Then last night, she’d been beautiful as well, but he had been saddened on her behalf at the obvious disaster and her despair.
    This morning, she’d been strong and stoic, clearly expecting to be asked to leave, and he was impressed at her willingness to re-consider, to try again. He admired her courage.
    And now--now, as he looked into her sparkling brown eyes, heat crept from his collar. He cleared his throat and looked down at the basket, turning away from the brilliant blue dress that set her brown eyes and honey-colored hair to light.
    This wouldn’t do at all. Best to stick to the plan. Teaching only.
    “You look lovely, Josephine. Thank you for reconsidering my proposal, and I look forward to showing you around your new home.”
    Jerome’s smile widened as he said, “Yes, Josephine. We are most grateful and pleased to have you here. You two enjoy your day.”
    Pierre caught his wink as he nodded at Bernadette. “Thank you, Bernadette. We will be back before supper.”
    “Thank you all. I’m very sorry that I--well, I will do the best I can.”
    She smiled and nodded at Jerome and Bernadette, turning her wide, brilliant smile toward Pierre. His heart pinched and he held out his arm to her, hoping that this just might work after all.

Chapter Fifteen
    J osephine looked from the basket Pierre held in his hands to the buggy, wondering what Bernadette might have packed. She knew that French food would be part of her education, and shivered at the thought that there might be snails in the basket. Her father had made her try them once at a fancy French restaurant and they--well, weren’t her cup of tea. And all the melted butter in the world wouldn’t change her mind.
    She sighed with relief as she realized there wouldn’t be any melted butter on a picnic, therefore it was unlikely they would be having snails. She tried to get a look into the basket before Pierre put it in the back of the buggy, but he laughed and batted her hand away.
    “You can wait. I promise that I won’t try to poison you. Lots of these French things aren’t my favorites either. But even if we choose not to eat them, we would certainly know about them if we’d been in the company of French society for any length of time.
    He placed the basket down and covered it with a large, flannel blanket. She assumed it would be for them to sit on whenever they reached their destination.
    She lifted her yards of skirts--she’d chosen the simplest of the beautiful ones she’d bought yesterday--and reached for Pierre’s hand that he held out to help her in. As their eyes met and she took his hand, she shivered--at the chill in the air, she thought. It couldn’t be anything else.
    “I have a blanket in the buggy for you to cover up with.” He looked up at the sky, the white clouds dotted with some darker ones. “The weather is a bit unpredictable this time of year, so better to be prepared.”
    Pierre came around and hopped in the buggy, reaching for the blanket on the seat between them and spreading it open over her lap. “There. Is that better?”
    She glanced up at him from under her lashes, a bit embarrassed that she would have any reaction to him at all, certain her shiver was due to the cold and would be taken care of with the blanket.
    “Yes, much. Thank you.”
    Pierre flicked the reins, getting the horses started, but rather than turn down the long drive lined with willows, he turned down the road toward the group of houses that Josephine could see out her window.
    Horses whinnied as they passed by tall, white fences enclosing large grazing fields. The horses glistened in the sun and Josephine inhaled the rich, musky sent of earth as it was kicked up by their hooves.
    She gazed over the fields and rows of a tall, green plant. “What is that?” she asked, pointing in the direction of the long, even rows, golden strands that looked