Free Patience: Bride of Washington (American Mail Order Bride 42) by Caroline Clemmons

didn’t you tell me you own the boarding house?”
    Looking puzzled, he said, “I had no idea you’d care. Mrs. Shaw prefers everyone to think she owns the place. She pays her rent on time so I see no reason not to humor her.”
    “Perhaps you weren’t aware that she didn’t have a room available for me so she asked one of her permanent boarders to move out of the best room so I could stay there. The woman is temporarily sharing a room with another in the boarding house, a coworker.”
    “I’m shocked. Surely she doesn’t think I’d cancel her lease if she had to turn you away? I have friends with whom you could have stayed for a month. As far as that goes, there’s plenty of room at my house and I could have asked a respected lady to move in as chaperone.”
    “I’m relieved you didn’t know the situation. When I found out this morning, I was astonished.”
    “Then I’m glad you asked and we cleared up the matter.” He clicked the reins to urge the horse into a trot.
    They parked near a crow of other buggies and buckboards. Horses were contained in a roped off paddock.
    Andrew called to a boy of about fifteen. “Howard, will you water my horse and watch after him and the buggy?”
    The boy’s face split into a wide grin. “Yes, sir, Mr. Kincaid.”
    He passed the boy two quarters. “You’ll still have time to spend this when we return.”
    They reached the edge of the festival grounds. The tread of so many people stirred dust from the grounds. Patience covered her mouth and blinked several times. Others laughed and talked as they hurried toward the attractions.
    Patience took in the other people and her excitement grew. “It is like a fair. I’m trying to be sedate but I feel as if I were ten.”
    Stone muttered, “You’re not much over that, are you?”
    She leaned toward him. “That would make you fifteen, Mr. Curmudgeon.”
    “I’m insulted you’d call me names.” He pretended to be offended at her name-calling, but the twinkle in his blue eyes gave him away.
    Andrew said, “I see the tables just inside the food tent and need to get over there. I hope Mrs. Gates hasn’t entered this year. Her pie crust is tough as leather and gives me indigestion. You two have fun while I get on with my duties.” He hurried toward a group that must be the other judges.
    Stone offered his arm. “Don’t let him fool you. He loves being a judge and would be heartbroken if he weren’t asked.”
    They strolled in the direction of the displays. “I thought he appeared eager. Is he a judge every year?”
    “He’s one of the organizers and, yes, he’s always a judge. Anything special you’d like to see?”
    “Hmm, Mrs. Shaw entered a cake. I’d love to see it and offer my good wishes. Are there contests besides food?”
    “Quilts, paintings, that sort of thing.” He exhaled. “You going to make me take you to see those? Wouldn’t you rather go to the greased pig race?”
    She refused to let his lack of enthusiasm diminish hers. “I want the full tour.”
    “Then let’s go this way.” Stone indicated the direction with a wave of his hand.
    Several young boys raced through the crowd, nearly knocking her down. 
    Stone grabbed her arm to prevent her fall then cupped her elbow and ushered her away from the food judging area. “That large tent over there is where the exhibits are displayed.”
    Inside, Patience was swept away by the beautiful quilts. “Destiny has some women that are skilled with needle and thread. I love that one with appliquéd apple blossoms. Look at the tiny stitches and how even they are.”
    He stood with his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to stare where she’d indicated. “Are tiny stitches good?”
    In her high spirits she’d forgotten a man like him would neither know nor care about sewing. “Of course they are. I wish I could look at the back to see how elaborate the pattern is on the plain side.”
    Hands in his pockets, he frowned at her. “If it’s the