Page 89 of Mail-Order Lady

The sound of wheels crunching over dirt pulled her attention to the window. James guided the team into the yard, the wagon bed loaded with yet another stack of wood and supplies from Walnut Springs.

She set the pages aside and stood, then stepped into the great room so she could see through the front windows. Just in case he’d brought back word from England. They’d been waiting to hear that Sutton’s testimony had been enough to see Reginald arrested. That the threat hanging over them could finally be laid to rest.

Robert emerged from around the side of the house to meet James, and they spoke a few words.

Her husband.

The man who’d nearly died three weeks ago saving all of them. And then he’d told her he’d loved her since the first day they met.

The bandage was gone now from his shoulder, though the wound still hurt. He winced anytime he reached with that arm, though if he saw her watching, he tried to cover it with a smile. Like he thought she wouldn’t notice.

She noticed everything about him now. The way his hair fell across his forehead when he bent over his work. The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Like she was a precious gift he’d been given and couldn’t quite believe was real.

James pulled a paper from the wagon bed and handed it to Robert. Her pulse kicked up. This had to be it.

Robert’s expression shifted as he read, and even from this distance, she could see the tension ease from his shoulders.

Good news then. It had to be.

She moved toward the front door to go out on the porch and hear the news, but as she reached for the knob, the door opened.

Robert stepped inside with the paper from James still in hand. His gaze found hers, and his expression softened as he took her in, the corners of his mouth tipping up.

The warmth that flooded her chest made breathing harder.

He pushed the door shut behind him and slipped his good arm around her waist to pull her flush against him.

She rested her palms on his chest as the steady beat of his heart flowed through her. That rhythm had become her anchor these past weeks.

During the nights too. Especially now that Thomas and Kate had moved out to their cabin, giving Robert and Clara a room to themselves in one of the empty bedrooms. She’d never imagined it would be this wonderful to be Robert’s bride.

He leaned down now to brush his lips over hers. She savored the touch, breathing him in.

He pulled back after only one, though he let his brow rest on hers. “You make it hard to do anything except kiss you.”

She slid her hands to his shoulders. As much as she’d like to lose herself in him, his brothers would expect him back out any minute. Or they might all come inside if James had brought business to discuss. “The telegram was from your father?”

Robert sighed and straightened. “Not exactly. It’s from a contact in Fort Benton. There’s an Englishman who just arrived on a steamboat, asking directions to Walnut Springs.”

That tightness pulled in her chest again and spread outward. Another one. Another threat. Would this never end? “Do we know who he is?”

He shook his head. “The name given isn’t one I recognize. But it means someone else is coming. Someone who knows enough to ask questions.”

The weight of it settled over her like a blanket. They were rebuilding the house. Nathan had recovered. Kate was getting stronger every day. For a few precious hours this morning, she’d been able to sit and write her story, and everything had felt almost normal.

But of course it couldn’t last. Not yet.

She pressed her palm against his cheek. She would never tire of touching him. Even this rough stubble beneath her fingers. “We’ll face it. Whatever comes.”

Robert turned his mouth into her palm and pressed a kiss there. A tingle slid all the way down her arm.

Then he straightened and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Show me what you’ve been working on.”

She’d told him he could read the story when she finished. And it was done now. Probably.

She led him to the dining room where the pages lay scattered across the table. Her pulse kicked up as she gathered them together. The handwriting looked messy in places—she’d crossed out words and rewritten them in the margins. She should have copied it all cleanly before letting him see.

But Robert waited beside her. He’d seen her untidy writing before, and he’d not criticized it. Maybe she could trust him with this too.