Free His Forbidden Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 7) by Merry Farmer Page A

time for explanations later.
    Honoria was grateful for his intervention. Her head was spinning after the encounter with her father. She could hardly believe that she had said the things she had. But from the moment her father had demanded she undo the one thing that had given her joy and confidence in her life, she knew that in that moment, her death was staring her in the face. She could either give in to it and die right there, simply fading away for the next few months, or live to the fullest while she could.
    She chose life.
    “Well, here we are,” Solomon said as the two of them stepped through the front door of his house—their house.
    Relief like nothing Honoria had ever felt filled her. She sighed and smiled. “Here we are.”
    Solomon shifted to study her. The expression he wore was just a little bit confused. To an extent, she understood his confusion.
    “The worst is over,” she explained with a shrug as her happiness doubled and doubled again. “The rest of my life starts now.”
    His confusion resolved into a smile tinged with sadness. He turned toward her fully and took her hands. “And what would you like to do to start off the rest of your life, Mrs. Templesmith?”
    A thousand ideas swirled in her mind. How strange to be able to choose what to do with her own time. Usually she spent her days running to complete one demand or another. She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips in thought.
    “I’d like to cook,” she said at last.
    “Cook?” Solomon’s smile widened, and he laughed. “Cook what?”
    “Anything.” Honoria laughed along with him. “I was never allowed to cook at home. Papa always insisted we had a servant for that, and Vivian and Melinda were certain I’d burn the house down if I tried. But I managed to sneak down to the kitchen a time or two to help Maria.”
    Solomon’s eyes danced with mirth. He shifted to settle her hand in the crook of his arm, then walked her down the hall toward his kitchen—their kitchen. “So what would you like to cook?”
    It was dizzying to have so many choices in front of her. “Well, it’s past lunchtime but not quite suppertime yet.”
    “We could get supper started,” Solomon suggested. “Honestly, my cooking skills aren’t the best, and between the two of us it might actually take that long to prepare anything.”
    “Good point.” She giggled, mystified by how easy it was. “So what do you have in your pantry?”
    As it turned out, Solomon had a lot of odds and ends in his pantry, but not a lot that made sense. There were sacks of beans and lentils, a large bag of potatoes, and a rasher of bacon. He had a few bunches of carrots and some turnips, plenty of flour and sugar and other baking supplies, but other than the bacon, no meat.
    “I’d run out and buy you a chicken if I didn’t think Mr. Kline had closed his store to attend the wedding,” Solomon said as they lined the rest of the ingredients out on the kitchen table to see what could be done.
    “Hmm.” Honoria arched a brow. “I’m not sure we should start with something as complicated as chicken anyhow.”
    Solomon laughed. There was such a resonant and genuine sound to his laughter. Right then and there, she determined that she would make him laugh as much as possible so that she could wrap herself in the sound and take it with her to the grave.
    “Do you have any books on cookery?” she asked, returning to the issue at hand.
    “Plenty. I have plenty of books about every topic you could imagine.”
    Honoria gasped. “Truly?”
    “Of course.”
    “I can’t wait to read them all.” She clapped her hands to her heart as if she needed to trap the joy she felt right where it was.
    Again, a hint of sadness was betrayed in the twist of Solomon’s mouth, the spark of his eyes. It wouldn’t do to dwell on how quickly things would come to an end between them. Right now, all Honoria wanted was to imagine that their life together would go on forever.
    Solomon