Ada's Secret by Nonnie Frasier Read Free Book Online

and completeness that I never thought I would have. I love you, Ada.”
    Joy and pain caught in my throat. How could this ever work? I faltered, and then whispered back softly, “I love you too, Patrick.”

Chapter 8
    T he morning sun’s first light sent the star-filled sky into full retreat. After Grace and Frank’s departure the previous day, we had retired early to enjoy other things. Probing the tender area between my legs, I discovered that Patrick’s and my energetic lovemaking had left some spots exquisitely alert. Patrick slowly stirred and slipped from the warmth of our bed’s luxurious goose down comforter. “Don’t you uncover me. That quilt is keeping me nice and warm under here,” I said.
    “The quilt was a gift from my mother,” he replied. “She always wanted the best for me, but ... ” His voice trailed off and he became strangely quiet. I watched a shadow pass over his eyes. It seemed we both had secrets we needed to protect. I couldn’t help thinking that his couldn’t be as shocking as mine.
    He kissed me on my forehead and brushed some long auburn tresses from my eyes. “Would you like me to put my hair up?” I asked.
    “Please don’t,” he begged. “Don’t tie it up. I love the way it falls around your face, and it looks so pretty lying on the pillow.” I knew it would be much easier to untangle my hair every morning than to ever face those sad eyes again.
    “If you want to, you can sleep for a little longer,” he said. “But remember today is Sunday and I have something very special planned after church.” Kissing me he headed out of the bedroom.
    “Nothing could top last night’s performance,” I called playfully after him as I watched the amber glow of happiness return to his eyes. Pulling myself away from the delicious comfort of our bed, I felt a tingle of anticipation swept through me.
    I wonder what he is up to? I thought as I got up and smoothed out the sheets and comforter. Reluctantly, I put on my insufferable corset and petticoats, vowing an oath to be rid of the claustrophobic things right after Sunday service.
    I hoped that whatever he was planning included a soft calico dress instead of corsets and petticoats. But what I really wished was that I could tell him about my dungarees. I opened the drawer where I had hidden my secret treasure. Under my clean bloomers lay my dearly loved blue dungarees.
    “I can’t keep you hidden much longer,” I whispered into their rough, sturdy fabric, “but we will have to go slowly, and our timing must be just right.” I sighed and tucked them back into their hiding place.
    It turned out that Patrick wasn’t upset about my shooting skills. He actually bragged to Grace and Frank about them. Frank even got to see the unfortunate animals’ hides drying in the barn. Maybe soon, he would see his way clear to let me wear the dungarees, at least, when we worked with the animals .
    The sun playfully peeped through the bedroom window as it rose over the eastern plain, promising another perfect Colorado day. I could hear leather creaking as Patrick loudly checked Sheba’s tack again, making it impossible to ignore that he and the big bay mare waited eagerly for me.
    I performed one last check. Yes, I thought, the bonnet is covering all of my hair. The Sunday dress is fashionable but not overstated and everything looks very proper. But wait! The reflection in the mirror suddenly astonished me. A few weeks ago, a girl with drawn eyes gawked back from my mirror in the bordello. Now a vivacious young woman with sparkling green eyes smiled back.
    I had never been so happy in my life! I smiled, then dashed out the front door. I wasn’t about to keep them waiting any longer.
    As we drove through town, we passed the post office. I signaled for Patrick to stop. “I need to mail a letter,” I explained.
    Patrick pulled Sheba to a stop in front of the post office. I slipped the letter from the protection of my handbag into the post