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

all. In fact, I found it quite pleasant. Would you like a beverage? I was just waiting for the biscuits to come out of the oven before I skipped down to the creek to fill a bucket of water.”
    A tremor of fatigue shook her as she stared spellbound into his deep, green-eyed gaze. Whatever emotion lurked beyond those eyes was a mystery to her, and she wondered dismally if a day would ever come when she would understand her husband’s mind. Or when she would no longer feel as if he was punishing her for their unfortunate beginning.
    Briggs leaned forward and rested an arm on the table. “The biscuits are out of the oven.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “I said the biscuits are out of the oven. What are you waiting for? Time to go skipping down to the creek.”
    Sarah took a step back, exasperated, resisting the desire to fling the hot pan of biscuits into his lap. Instead, she picked it up using her bunched apron, and with a measure of poise, scooped the biscuits into a bowl.
    “I’ll be right back,” she said, wishing she’d had the forethought to carry the water up before she put the biscuits in the oven. But having to stoke the stove so often, she didn’t dare leave it alone.
    Wiping her hands on her skirt, she headed for the door, adding with a sharp bite, “Why don’t you relax for a minute? Put your feet up. I’ll be back in the shake of a lamb’s tail.”
    Fuming, she picked up the bucket of water she’d used to wash her hands a hundred times that afternoon, climbed the steps, and emerged out of the stuffy sod house into the evening. The western horizon beyond the corn field glowed a radiant pink, and a cool breeze blew by, lifting the hair off the sticky skin at her neck. The walk to the creek would do her good, she decided, staring at the magnificent magenta sky and struggling to appreciate it.
    A short while later, when she returned to the house with a half-full bucket of water, she slowed when she discovered Briggs lounging in a chair outside the front door with his back to her, one foot raised and resting on a barrel, Shadow sitting beside him. They were both facing the sunset. Sarah stopped and gently set the bucket in the grass, realizing he hadn’t heard her footsteps beneath the hissing whisper of the wind across the grass and wheat.
    It was odd, how the first day of this marriage seemed more like a battle than a relationship. She had revealed nothing of her true self since they’d arrived here—but of course she was as much to blame as he was for the state of things at this moment. Probably more so, since she was the one who had admitted to loving someone else mere weeks before she accepted Briggs’s offer.
    Her battle instincts somewhat deflated, Sarah picked up the bucket and walked toward her husband. She understood where his hostility was coming from—they’d gotten off to a bad start, to be sure—and she realized she wanted things to be better. She was tired of being angry. It was time to stop perpetuating the friction. Perhaps, if she warmed up to him, he would let it go.
    When she paused in front of him, he dropped his leg to the ground and squinted up at her. “Did you have a nice skip down to the creek?”
    Putting it behind them, it seemed, was going to prove a challenge. “Yes, I did, thank you.” Her shadow fell across his face, and she waited for his next attempt to rile her, but surprisingly, he leaned forward and placed his large hand on her hip.
    Sarah’s blood burst into hot embers, speeding through her veins. What in Heaven’s name was he doing, and why couldn’t she relax about it? They were married, after all.
    “You’re blocking my view of the sunset.” He gently pushed her to the side. The dog whimpered.
    Sarah stood like a fool with her hands at her sides, her heart racing while she had to remind herself to breathe. She wished she could just live here without reacting so strongly to this man’s every move. She simply had to give it more time, she decided. This