Free Shameful Celia (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 3) by Carré White Page A

mood. I adored this side of him. “Yes, sir.”
    “I’m sure you’ll find someone who meets all of those requirements.”
    “I sure hope so.” A knock sounded on the door. “Are you expecting someone this early?”
    “I haven’t a clue.” He got to his feet. “Excuse me.” As he strode across the room in bare feet, I couldn’t help admiring the way the drawers looked full in the seat, the material having been pleated to the narrow waistband. Opening the door, he faced Mrs. Hershey, who smiled gregariously, breezing into the room.
    “Oh, there you are. I wondered if you’d be here.” She glanced between us, her look questioning. “Is … is there a reason for this morning visit, or are … you just waking?”
    The implication of her words hit me like a slap. “No! I’m only making breakfast. I wasn’t here all night. Oh, goodness, no.”
    “No, indeed she was not.” Pastor Kinsley stood with his hands on his hips. “She has no cook stove, so she’s using mine. There isn’t a law against that, is there?”
    “No, but people might talk.” She approached the table. “Good morning, Celia. You look fine today.”
    “Thank you, so do you.”
    “Did you see Doc Baker?”
    “I did.”
    “And what did he have to say?”
    “I’m pregnant,” I giggled, thinking it funny to toy with her.
    “We all know that. But when are you due? I need to have some sort of time frame, if I’m going to find you a husband before you have that baby.”
    Nick sat again, drinking coffee, while staring off into space.
    “I’m going to have this baby soon, Mrs. Hershey. Really soon.”
    “Oh, my word!” She looked aghast. “Then I had best get to work. I’ve arranged a lunch for you and Mr. Holter. He’s a lovely farmer who lost his wife six months ago.”
    “He has four children!” said Nicolas. “All under the age of seven.”
    “All the more reason he needs a wife, and soon. Those kids are about to run him ragged. He’s so desperate for relief, he said he would marry a pregnant widow.” She tapped well-manicured fingernails on the table. “I do believe you’re going to like him. Can you be ready by twelve?”
    “I can.” The idea of marrying someone with that many children boggled my mind, but I had always wanted a large family.
    “You can’t be serious.” Nicolas sat straighter, his look incredulous. “She’s about to give birth any second, and you want to throw her into a household with four small children? Then there’s the washing, the cleaning, the food making, and such. How on earth would she even manage that?”
    “You can organize some help from the ladies of the congregation. They can come in shifts and lend a hand.” Mrs. Hershey had everything under control.
    “I’ll have lunch with him. I shouldn’t pass up an opportunity to eat, especially at a restaurant.” I would be open-minded and sensible, because I was in need of a husband.
    Nicolas scowled. “This plan of yours is madness, Doris.”
    “Not at all. I’m sure once these two meet, they’ll feel the weight of attraction, and it will trump all other considerations.”
    “I doubt it,” laughed Nick. “The weight of attraction? Is that akin to how a fifty pound sack of flour feels?”
    “Oh, this isn’t funny,” she admonished. “Marriage is a serious matter.”
    “It is. That’s why I dislike this mail order business. How can two people develop feelings for one another through letters? You can’t fall in love with a piece of paper. You have to spend time with that person to truly know their character.”
    “You’re a man,” I said baldly. “You have that luxury. Your belly doesn’t swell with a life form that needs food and shelter. I have no choice, Nick.”
    “But you shouldn’t snatch up the first person who crosses your path. Just because you have a baby coming, doesn’t mean you should marry a balding, grumpy old man with a passel of unruly children.”
    “Don’t most men end up like that