Read Freedom For A Bride: A clean historical mail order bride romance (Montana Passion Book 2) for Free Online Page B

the shop but purposely dropped back to join Pryor when Nathaniel stepped forward and held up various goods for the young woman’s inspection. She smiled much and let her fingertips brush against several of the items he held up, but she shook her head whenever he indicated he would get them.
    “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Pryor whispered to his wife when they pretended to busy themselves at a display of cutlery.
    “What do you mean?” Moira asked in a low voice, sneaking glances at Nathaniel and Katia over her shoulder. “They seem to be getting on well.”
    “That’s not what I’m talking about. She can’t even speak? How do we know she’s supposed to be here? She might have gotten off the train in the wrong town, for all we know.”
    “No, the letter stated that she was to meet Mr. Russell in New Hope. So at least she’s the right body to be here.”
    “But what if she doesn’t know why she’s here? What if she’s like you—”
    Moira interrupted. “No, Pryor, that can’t be the same situation. I was tricked into coming here by my uncle’s plans, but no one forced me onto the train. She seems happy enough to have arrived.”
    “Well, what if she’s just some girl that the new tavern owner ordered?” he asked, a flush of mortification instantly flooding his face at having spoken that way to his own wife. Moira shook her head.
    “I’ll disremember that you said those words about her, Mr. MacAteer,” she stated firmly, pressing her lips into a thin line and using his surname to show her displeasure. He hung his head in further shame and muttered an apology.
    They set off toward the wagon together, Moira pointing to the wagon box for Katia. Moira climbed in first with her husband’s help and offered her hands to the young woman, indicating it was allowed to let the men help her step up. Katia settled next to Moira on the fresh straw and looked around nervously at the tiny village that was to become her new home.
    During the long, bouncy ride to Moira’s own cabin—nestled on the claim that she owned outright before marrying Pryor, now standing empty and to become Katia’s home until she chose to marry—Moira attempted to make conversation with Katia through gestures and pencil drawings on the large sack of cornmeal Pryor had purchased in town. Katia smiled and sometimes nodded , but mostly, she looked confused, possibly even a little fearful at the distance they traveled. In every direction, Montana’s frozen plains stretched out until they reached the mountains or the far off horizon. From a newcomer’s perspective, Moira remembered, it was much like being adrift in the middle of the endless ocean, isolated and untraceable.
    When they finally reached Moira’s cabin, recently finished thanks to Pryor’s determination to have it suitable before Nathaniel’s future wife would arrive, Moira and Katia climbed down and went inside, waving from the porch as Pryor called out, “I’ll bring Gretchen and Matthew along shortly!”
    Moira led the way into the small but cozy cabin, pointing to the nightstand beside the wide bed for Katia to put her one traveling bag. She took Katia’s coat and shawls and hung them on the wooden pegs behind the door, then set to work making a fire in the fireplace. There was no cast iron stove as no one lived in this house permanently, but Pryor had made sure there was plenty of firewood stacked on the porch and more nestled in a neat wall alongside the close side of the barn. Moira filled the kettle from the bucket of freshly drawn water, heating it for coffee against the chill of the house.
    While Moira worked, Katia stood in the middle of the room, looking around and feeling very much out of place. She observed the house around her, the little touches that made it home for whoever would live there, no matter how long or how temporary things may be.
    A short time later, the sound of an approaching wagon and team of horses made both women instinctively look