Grace: Bride of Montana (American Mail-Order Bride 41) by Debra Holland Read Free Book Online Page A

are acting like a barbarian. Don’t reel the poor woman around like she’s a fish hooked on the your line.”
    Mr. Foster stopped and sent Grace an apparent look of mock guilt, which made him look like an errant schoolboy. “And here I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about the barbarian part for a few more minutes.” He retained possession of her hand.
    Beyond giving him a polite shake of greeting, Grace had planned to avoid physical contact with the man, hoping after a few weeks his touch wouldn’t repulse her. Yet, to her surprise, Frey Foster had already upset her careful design. We’ve been holding hands the whole time.
    The other man laughed. “Given you’ve only met Miss Dickinson for about four minutes and didn’t reveal your barbarian self until three minutes passed, I think you’re doing pretty well. I was betting on one .”
    The woman elbowed the man who was obviously her husband, for both children had the same dark gray eyes. “Don’t mind these jokesters, Miss Dickinson. They really do have a sense of decorum at times. I’m Trudy Flanigan, and this is my husband, Seth. He’s holding Anna who just turned three, and this one is George.” With a proud air, she raised the baby for Grace to inspect. “He’s six months.”
    George’s fat-cheeked grin made his eyes go squinty, and his mouth showed three budding teeth.
    Grace couldn’t help smiling back at him, wishing she could pinch the baby’s chubby cheeks. This is the oddest welcome to my new life, but I like all of them.
    Mrs. Flanigan smoothed back her son’s curls and said to Grace, “We’ll take you to the parsonage so you can prepare for the wedding. Then comes the ceremony, and afterwards, we’ll repair to Frey’s house for a meal.”
    Mr. Foster held up a hand to stop the flow of plans and gazed at Grace. “Unless, Miss Dickinson, you are repulsed by me….” He emphasized her words from the letter. “If that’s the case, we’ll have to figure out a new plan.”
    “Why, no, Mr. Foster. I’m not repulsed .” Although Grace said the word in a light tone, she spoke the truth. He will do as well as any personable man.
    And he made me smile —something she hadn’t done since learning of Victor’s treachery. That’s definitely in his favor.
    He cocked an eyebrow. “Then you’ll marry me?”
    “I will.” Grace’s solemn promise felt just as real as the one she would soon vow before God.
    His smile held relief. He shot a triumphant look at Mr. Flanigan. “Guess I haven’t run her off right away after all. On the way here, if his wife hadn’t stopped us, Seth would have placed good money on a bet.” He winked at Grace. “Only to end up losing it.”
    “Frey Foster! I declare.” Mrs. Flanigan glared at him. “Are you trying to frighten off your bride? Some people think betting is evil. What if Miss Dickinson believes that way?” With a shake of her head, she looked at Grace. “Really, he was only joking. We did no such thing.”
    Grace suppressed a smile. Only now did she realize how lonely she’d been for a very long time. The bonds of obvious friendship between the three warmed her heart. She let out a theatrical sigh. “I suppose Mr. Foster’s sense of humor will take some getting used to,” she said with modestly lowered eyelashes and a demure, almost longsuffering, tone.
    The three stared at her in dismayed silence.
    A bubble of glee threatened to ruin the moment, but Grace held her pose until her face heated and flushed, and the quivering of her mouth betrayed her.
    Frey gave a shout of laughter and slapped his leg. “You had us, there, Grace, uh, Miss Dickinson.”
    She couldn’t resist a grin of triumph. “Frey—” she emphasized his given name. “We are to wed. Please call me Grace.”
    With a twinkle in his eye, Mr. Flanigan gave a slow nod of approval, and Mrs. Flanigan beamed at both of them.
    Grace became aware of feeling hot. Her coat really was too heavy for the sunny day. She held out her