A Bride for Donnigan by Janette Oke Read Free Book Online

brooding. He turned the horse toward home and gave him his head. He knew the horse would want to run, and he figured a bit of wind in his face might serve to blow away a few cobwebs. Cool his agitation some.
    At last he reined in the stallion and coaxed him to settle for a fast trot.
    “We’ll be home soon enough,” he told the horse. “No use winding you.”
    He wished now that he’d stopped in town for a good meal. He was already feeling hungry, and he hated the thought of getting out the frying pan when he got back to the house. He was sick of salted pork and fried beans. He was sick of tough biscuits and stale coffee. Maybe he was just sick—he didn’t know.

    He stopped by Wallis’s to leave off the money. The man grinned his pleasure as he reached for the coffee can stuck inside the fireplace chimney and added the dollars to his stash.
    “Got it all now,” he said, showing the gap in his front teeth. “I’ll hustle it on into town first thing tomorrow.”
    Donnigan found himself wondering just what kind of woman Wallis had “ordered.”
    “When do you want me to pick up the sows?” he asked to shake his mind free of the nagging thought.
    “I’ll bring ’em on over. When ya wantin’ ’em?” asked Wallis—but he was still smiling to himself.
    Donnigan could hardly wait to leave, but he replied as evenly as he could, “I don’t have a pen and farrowing sheds ready. I can work on them tomorrow. Should have them ready in a day or two.”
    “Friday? Ya be ready by Friday?” asked Wallis.
    Donnigan nodded. He should be ready by Friday for sure.
    “I’ll bring ’em over on Friday, then. Seeing I can get into town tomorrow and take care of everything—I won’t need to go Friday.”
    Donnigan had never seen the man so excited.
    “Just think of it,” Wallis said as he carefully recounted his money. “The ship will have her over here this fall. Fact is, it leaves next week, if I remember rightly.”
    “Do you—do you have any idea—who it is that you’re—you’re getting?” Donnigan didn’t know if he had worded his question right, but he could tell Wallis wanted to talk about his plans.
    “Sure do,” said Wallis with another wide grin. “Sure do. Got her name and all the particulars right here.”
    He pulled a worn piece of folded paper from his shirt pocket and spread it out on the table.
    “Name is Risa. Pretty name, don’t ya think? Risa—can’t say this next name.”
    For one moment Donnigan wondered how the man who could not read even knew that the name was Risa. Though perhaps he had been practicing the single name after being told what it was.
    Wallis passed the paper to Donnigan. “See fer yerself,” he said.
    Donnigan turned his eyes to the sheet. Her name was Risa, all right. It gave her last name too, but Wallis had been right. It was a difficult one to figure. Donnigan made no attempt to pronounce it.
    “Tall—five feet six inches. Blond hair, blue eyes. Pleasant disposition. Likes children. Good housekeeper. Excellent cook. Good seamstress. Likes to garden. Likes animals.” The description ended, and as Donnigan read the last words he lifted his eyes to the shining face of the man before him.
    “Pretty good, huh?” Wallis prompted.
    Donnigan could only nod. She sounded too good to be true. Perhaps , he found himself thinking, perhaps she was too good to be true. Maybe all the descriptions of the new wives-to-be said the same positive things.
    But Donnigan did not voice his questions. He did not want to dampen the spirits of the other man.
    “Sounds real good,” he said again, folding the paper and passing it back to Wallis.
    Wallis was still smiling.
    Donnigan cast one look of apprehension around the untidy small cabin. Risa sure had her work cut out for her. He shook his head and started for the door.
    “See you Friday,” he tossed over his shoulder.
    He was about to step through the door when Wallis called out to him. He turned. The older man moved across