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

door, but immediately took a seat in one of the rocking chairs Pryor had carved for Moira. The feel of the smooth hand rests caused him more ache than comfort, as their smooth sheen told him they were lovingly wrought for a woman who wouldn’t even have much use of them out here. He sat up straighter when the door opened, expecting Gretchen to come outside with the pot of steaming coffee. Remembering his manners, he nearly jumped out of the chair and down the porch steps and was taken off guard when it was Katia who stood framed in the doorway, closing the door behind her.
    They eyed each other for a moment, neither one looking away. They held their gazes and each hoped fervently for some kind of understanding or recognition to pass between them, the kind that doesn’t need words, only respect, and care.
    “Ch… chair,” Katia said, pointing to the matching pair of oak rockers on Moira’s cabin porch. She held out her arm toward them and waited. Nathaniel was slow to recognize the word as she spoke it and was elated when he finally figured out she was inviting him to sit with her. He laughed lightly to himself and climbed the steps, settling into a chair just in time to see Katia disappear into the house.
    Just as he was making up his mind whether or not to leave, she returned with her arms laden with blankets. She passed a quilt to Nathaniel before settling into the other chair with her own wrap, sliding the chair a respectable distance away from this strange man. She happily rocked in silence, leaving Nathaniel to wonder how this would ever work. He had no need to fret for long.
    “Name?” Katia said, using one of the few words she’d picked up since her arrival in America. She patted herself and repeated the name she’d given them at the train, her full name, not the nickname she’d offered to take the place of her Russian name.
    “Nathaniel Russell,” he replied, realizing too late that it had all come out in a nervous rush that probably didn’t sound like a distinguishable word to the foreigner. “I’m sorry, I mean to say… Nah-than-yell Russ-ell.”
    He repeated the syllables several times for Katia, but each time she tried to mimic the sounds, the inflection or the pronunciation was off. She blew out a frustrated breath that fluttered the hair above her high forehead, the long, straight wisps standing on end for only a second before settling back against her smooth skin.
    “I’ve got it!” he cried. “Yell!”
    “Yell?” Katia repeated, shaking her head from her lack of understanding. This new word wasn’t one she’d come across before. But Nathaniel nodded encouragingly.
    “That’s it! Yell! I’m Yell!” he said eagerly, patting his chest before pointing back and forth between them. “Katia, Yell. You’re Katia, and I’ll be Yell!”
    Moira poked her head out once to see what the commotion was about, but when she saw the two of them sitting together in the rockers, laughing and almost talking, she quickly darted back inside and closed the door. She and Gretchen stifled their nervous giggles, both of them secretly thrilling at the way things could turn out.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    A full day had passed since Nathaniel had visited with Katia, though it couldn’t be called visiting in the traditional sense, at least not in the way that a man courting a young lady could visit. They’d sat together on the porch for as long as possible until finally he’d had to tend to his chores and Moira hinted that she’d like to get back home.
    But afterward, Katia couldn’t be bothered to visit again. Gretchen tried to gesture to her that she would take her to Moira’s or Nathaniel’s place, or that she would send word to him that he could come for supper. She either didn’t understand or had no interest in a social call.
    Even more upsetting, though, was the way she’d shaken her head and turned away when Nathaniel appeared on the cabin porch that night, freshly bathed and wearing what looked