Julia: Bride of New York (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 11) by Callie Hutton Read Free Book Online

posters I had in here?”
    She smiled and straightened in her chair. “I filed them.”
    “Filed them?”
    “Yes.” Her smiled dimmed at his expression. “What?”
    “How did you file them?”
    “Under their names.”
    He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “No, no, no.” He rubbed his face and regarded her. “The reason for Wanted posters is to look at them to see if you recognize anyone’s face. I don’t know their names.”
    “Oh.”
    “It’s all right. Just go through the files and pull them back out.” Lord, he had to get this woman a job or her agreement to marry him. Keep her busy in his house and far away from the jailhouse. “Anything else happen while I was gone?”
    “Oh, yes. One more thing. Mrs. Martin came in.”
    Fletcher grunted. “What was it this time?”
    “Sheriff—“
    “Fletcher.”
    “—what?”
    “If I’m to call you Julia, you should call me Fletcher.”
    “Well, I’ll think on that. Anyway. This is a serious charge. She asked a young boy,” she glanced at the paper where she’d taken the notes, “to bring back her daughter. When he did, he dumped the poor child in the mud. Mrs. Martin was very upset and wants you to speak with the boy’s parents to have them explain to their son how reckless he’d been with the little girl.”
    “What daughter?”
    She shook her head. “Mrs. Martin’s daughter.”
    “She doesn’t have a daughter. Furthermore, she’s here every day with another complaint. The woman could use a couple of little ones to keep her busy, if you ask me. Although, she’s certainly a bit long in the tooth for one now.”
    “If she doesn’t have a daughter, then who is Daisy Susan?”
    Fletcher had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. “Daisy Susan is her dog.”
     
     
    Julia stared at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser in her hotel room. She liked the way she looked. Her yellow flowered dress with lace on the edge of the sleeves and around the collar was one of her better ones. She’d fixed her hair in the new French braid style. It took some maneuvering and pain holding her arms up for so long, but it had been worth it.
    Fletcher was coming for her in about ten minutes for Sunday services and then the church picnic afterward. She was excited to attend the event. It would be a way for her to meet more people in the town, especially more ladies. The past couple of years when she’d worked at the factory and shared a room with Genny and Katie, she’d been surrounded by female chatter. Now she spent her days with Fletcher, who rarely talked, and the prisoner who still resided in Wickerton’s jail until the circuit judge visited Hamilton for the bank robbers’ trial. Of course, Fletcher continued to forbid her and the prisoner to speak to each other. He’d stated ladies didn’t converse with prisoners.
    She’d almost snapped back that ladies didn’t work in the jailhouse, either, but she didn’t want to give him any reason to take away her job. Not that it was much of a job. He wouldn’t allow her to do any more filing—said he couldn’t find anything. The cleaning had been done, and the little bit of dusting she did each day took only a few minutes.
    He wouldn’t even let her stay in the jailhouse when he was called away because the prisoner was there. She guessed he was afraid they would break the rules and actually mumble words in each other’s direction. Consequently, she was left with running errands. Picking up meals for them and the prisoner, sending wires, and buying Fletcher’s favorite pipe tobacco.
    She’d taken to bringing a book with her that she’d gotten from the library and spent a lot of her time in the jail reading. One morning she’d snuck into Fletcher’s house and straightened up in there, washed a few dishes, and swept the floor. He’d gotten mad at that, too, saying it wasn’t proper for her to be in the sheriff’s house since she was an unmarried