Free The Substitute Bride by Janet Dean Page B

waste time getting into her nightgown, new and soft as down. Inside the chifferobe, she found Ted’s clothes and a few items of women’s clothing, obviously Rose’s. Did Ted still love his wife so much he couldn’t get rid of her things?
    She pulled a robe from the hook and tried it on. Though it barely covered her shins, the robe would cover her nightgown in the morning. She didn’t relish donning her soiled dress, especially if she got an opportunity for a bath. But with no bathroom in the house, where would she find privacy?
    She sighed and slipped between the sheets. They smelled clean, sweet and fresh. Obviously Ted had managed to change the linens. She stretched out her body, thankful to sleep in a bed.
    Long before this, Robby would be tucked in for the night, an extra pillow clutched in his spindly arms, while Martha heard his prayers. She hoped he wasn’t missing her or, worse, crying. Her heart squeezed. To give her brother his dream, she must first find a way to manage Ted’s home and children. Tonight proved she could handle the cleaning. Learning to cook should soften Ted up enough to tell him about Robby.
    She had less than a month to become a passable farmer’s helpmate, less than a month to earn the money for two return train tickets. If Mr. Sorenson needed help, she might be able to handle his books.
    But how would she get to town?
    Who’d take care of Ted’s children so she could get away?
    She had plenty of questions, but no answers. She sighed. Take it one step at a time. Tomorrow she’d learn to cook. Martha had tried to interest Elizabeth in the culinary arts, or so the nanny called meal preparation. Up till now, Elizabeth had only one interest in food. Eating it. She suspected that was about to change.

Chapter Seven
    T he clatter of pans brought Elizabeth straight up in bed. For a second she didn’t know where she was. Then memory hit with the force of a gale wind, tossing her back against the pillows.
    She’d awakened in Ted Logan’s house. Married to the man. No doubt that was Ted, her dear, considerate husband, up and raising a ruckus in the kitchen.
    Through the curtain, she could see the slightest glow from the rising sun. A rooster crowed, heralding the day. Gracious, why was everyone in such a hurry?
    Yawning, she tossed back the covers, slid out of bed, shivering when her bare feet hit the floor. It might be spring but during the night the temperature had dropped. She slipped on the robe, cinched the belt tight and padded to the kitchen. Today she’d prove herself by handling the cooking.
    Ted sat at the table, bent over at the waist, pulling on his boots. His thick blond hair showed the tracks of a comb. A sudden urge to run her fingers through the silkiness brought a hitch to her breathing.
    Raising his head, Ted took in her attire with a silver-bluedisapproving gaze. He opened his mouth as if to say something and then clamped it shut.
    Elizabeth looked down at the robe. “I hope you don’t mind if I wear this.” A war of emotions waged on his face, telling her plenty. She turned to go. “I’ll take it off.”
    “No, you need a robe and that’s a perfectly good one.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Yes, seeing you…just surprised me is all.” He jammed his stocking foot into the second boot. “I’m heading out to the barn. Can you manage breakfast?”
    “Of course.” She’d handled the dishes, hadn’t she?
    “I started the stove and made coffee.” He rose, towering over her, then grabbed a jacket from a hook near the back door and shrugged it on. “I should finish the morning chores in about an hour.”
    “Wonderful.” She put on her best smile but the robe fit her far better. “Uh, what do you usually eat?”
    “Fried eggs, bacon, biscuits. Nothing fancy.” He tossed the words over his shoulder as he strode out the door.
    She sank onto a chair. Eggs, bacon, biscuits? Couldn’t he ask for something that matched her experience? Like cold cereal and milk. Well,