Free Mail Order Prairie Bride: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Book 1) by Julianne MacLean

bucket!”
    Sarah stopped and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d been so happy with that dramatic exit, too.
    Taking a deep, frustrated breath, she considered ignoring him and continuing on her way, but that was the only bucket in the house that wasn’t filled with ashes, and she’d likely need it to cook supper. Raising her chin, she turned and marched back with no shortage of theatrics. Sarah scooped up the empty bucket, glared at his insufferable, grinning face, then pivoted on her heel again. Ten more paces, and he called out one more time. “And your cup!”
    Sarah stopped. If she returned and met that self-satisfied expression one more time, she would likely swing her bucket by the handle and bat him over the head with it. After considering that option for a second or two, and receiving some satisfaction from the image in her mind, she forced herself to forget it. She would persevere. Sarah leaned into the wind and strode forward. Even if she was shriveling with dehydration, she would do without that cup until supper hour.

Chapter Seven

    This is almost comical, Sarah tried to convince herself, as she dropped her weary body into a chair, trying to translate her devastated dreams into something worth laughing about.
    In the past hour, she had stoked the stove with cow chips, carried the heavy corn meal sack to the table, added more chips to the fire, washed her hands, measured the flour, added more chips, washed her hands, measured the fat, mixed the biscuit dough, added more chips, washed her hands….
    Now, as she wiped perspiration from her brow and waited for the biscuits to cook, she wondered in a panic if she’d washed her hands again before dropping the biscuits onto the pan that last time.
    Maybe she’d pass on the biscuits tonight.
    Without warning, a dark silhouette appeared in the doorway. Sarah gasped and jumped to her feet. Briggs strode down the stairs, and she wished she’d heard him approach so she could have freshened up. She’d wanted so badly to appear in control, but her hair was a wild mess sticking to the back of her neck, and when she swept two fingers across her cheek, she discovered her face was damp with perspiration.
    “You got grease on your nose,” Briggs pointed out, reaching the bottom step and removing his hat, then stroking Shadow who had risen to greet him.
    Sarah turned away and frantically rubbed both hands over her face. When she faced Briggs again, he was sitting down at the table. Shadow returned to his spot on the floor by the bed.
    “Supper will be ready in one minute,” she said quickly, opening the squeaky oven door. The smell of golden, cooked biscuits floated out and filled the sod house. Sarah smiled triumphantly, hoping Briggs possessed a keen pair of nostrils.
    She reached into the hot oven and grasped the pan, using her apron to protect her hand, but exclaimed when the heat snuck through to her fingers. “Ouch!” She dropped the pan with a clatter onto the table, directly in front of Briggs.
    He leaned back in the chair, raising the front legs off the floor. She was sucking her stinging fingers. “Do I get a plate, or do you want me to eat off the hot pan?”
    Sarah pulled her fingers out of her mouth with a pop , then balled her hands into fists. The man was enjoying himself too much for her present mood. She turned on her heel, picked up two plates from a shelf by the stove, and set them onto the table. “There, how’s that? Would you like some fresh oysters and wine? Perhaps some strawberries and cream? It shouldn’t be a problem.”
    Briggs stared up at her for a long second, then leaned forward and dropped the chair legs onto the dirt floor. “Difficult day was it, Mrs. Brigman?”
    “My name is Sarah, and you…” She clicked her teeth shut. Control yourself , she thought, closing her eyes to shut him out for a second or two. When she opened them, she forced a smile as sweet as candy, then took a deep, calming breath. “No, it wasn’t difficult at