An Improper Situation (Sanborn-Malloy Historical Romance Series, Book One) by Sydney Jane Baily Read Free Book Online

do for. She had already started writing by then, and she began to spend all her time at that endeavor, submitting to anyone and everyone who would read her work.
    Eventually the hollow feeling had gone away. But the little ones would want her to open her heart again, without reserve—she knew that instinctively.
    Without thinking about where she was going, Charlotte ended up on the opposite end of town, at the cemetery. There was a slight breeze blowing and she could smell the carefully tended grass and the fresh scent of wildflowers that bordered the area.
    Pushing open the white gate of the fence that encircled the grassy plots, she headed for her parents’ graves, buried side by side, as they had lived and died.
    John Sanborn, loving husband and father, and Regina Randall Sanborn, loving wife and mother. That was supposed to say it all, but it didn’t. It didn’t describe the happy times in their home with a fascinating father and a beautiful and elegant mother, a genteel lady from Boston’s highest society.
    Charlotte knew Regina had wanted more out of life than Spring City, for herself and her children, but had loved her husband so much she would make any sacrifice.
    Occasionally, there had been tense moments, Charlotte remembered, especially when her father became increasingly frustrated at his inability to find anything resembling a gold strike or when he secluded himself in his study for what seemed like days on end, reading and writing, until Regina had almost physically hauled him out herself—and even then, he brought a book along.
    But he was a loving husband and father, trying to share what captivated him in the only way he knew how—he read to them and told them stories. Every outing, when they could drag him out, was an adventure.
    And Charlotte had grown up early, as her mother’s only confidant, playing out their own version of society in their little parlor, and as her father’s helpmate, on the occasional times that he brought his young daughter into the study and explained his ideas to her. Those had been relatively carefree times.
    Quietly, Charlotte touched each headstone then hugged her arms around herself before moving a little way off to sit in the shade of a large fir. All around her face, tickling her cheeks, she felt the strands of hair that had fallen out of the untidy knot.
    She started to smooth them, then pulled loose the rest of her long chestnut hair, combing her fingers through the silken skeins to untangle them somewhat while she thought.
    Those times had ended far too soon, when she was just fourteen and Thaddeus only nine. There had barely been time to grieve at first, so great was the shock.
    The sound of hoofbeats brought her out of her morbid thoughts. The sinking feeling in her heart matched the downward curve of her mouth as she looked up and saw Reed Malloy approaching. Perhaps he’d simply pass by into town, she hoped, as she scrunched herself closer to the huge tree. But he looked over and saw her; obviously, he had been searching.
    Charlotte simply watched quietly as he tied up the horse that had pulled the wagon he’d rented only yesterday to bring the children. The next moment, he was striding into the cemetery.
    “Miss Sanborn, are you all right?” He stood close, looking down at her.
    His question surprised her and she lowered her gaze. She had expected him to rail against her for simply walking off, to yell at her that the children were hungry or upset, anything but to worry about her own well-being. It was almost her undoing, as emotions she couldn’t even identify washed over her.
    “I am feeling thoughtful this morning,” she told him finally. How could she explain to him about her anxieties, about the ghosts from the past, or how she feared letting the children into her life? He had already mentioned his own aunts and sisters and a mother when he talked about his cooking—his childhood sounded rich in love and protection and caring.
    She’d learned the