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

woman.
    The most interesting part of her day was the funny feeling in her stomach almost every time Fletcher did deign to talk to her. She’d noticed that he watched her with a look in his eyes she didn’t recognize, but made her face heat up.
    In any event, today would be a day of spiritual reflection and fun. She bent forward over the dresser and smiled at herself in the mirror as she tied the ribbons on her bonnet. She pinched her cheeks and bit her lips for color.
    A tap at her door drew her attention. She grabbed her reticule from the chair by the door—that Fletcher made her promise she would wedge under the doorknob each night—and opened to the sheriff.
    And lost her breath.
    Even after spending every day with him, seeing him now, dressed in his Sunday best, took her breath away. He wore black wool pants with a matching vest under his well-cut jacket. His white shirt emphasized the golden tan of his skin. Her eyes slid past his broad shoulders to his slim hips where the ever-present gun belt hung. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
    He gave her a lazy grin, like he knew she admired him, and handed her a bouquet of flowers.
    She sniffed at the wonderful aroma. “Oh, my. What’s the occasion?”
    He moved into the room, took her by the hands, and sat her on the chair. She raised her eyebrows when he went down on one knee and cleared his throat. “Julia, I’ve done this three times before, but now I want to do it the right way.”
    He took a deep breath, and said, “Will you do me the honor of accepting my offer of marriage?”
     

Chapter Five
     
    Julie inclined her head and studied Fletcher. He really meant it. This was no flip comment about “Why don’t we get married?” His request sounded sincere, and by the look on his face, he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t be rejected again.
    Rejected.
    She knew how that felt. But there was still a burning need inside her to know. “Why?”
    He dropped his head and groaned. “Why did I think it would be easier this time?”
    “I just want to know why you want to marry me. I think that’s a fair question.” She sniffed and rearranged her skirts.
    He sighed and sat back on his haunches resting his wrists on his bent knees. “Yes, I guess that is a fair question. I can’t say that I love you because you’re an honest woman and I won’t lie to you. But I like you. Very much. And I think we would do well together.”
    “So far, so good. You may continue.”
    “That’s not enough?”
    “No.”
    “I would like to bring my daughter home.”
    Julia sat forward. “I didn’t know you had a daughter. Tell me about her.”
    “Patty Ann is seven years old. Since my wife, Laura, died six months ago, my little girl has been living with my Laura’s sister, Catherine. She’s a nice woman, a widow, no children. She’s been very good to Patty Ann, but I want her with me.
    “Catherine’s argument to this point about keeping Patty Ann is my dangerous job and being single. She’s right.” He stood and walked to the window, staring out at the street. “I don’t know the first thing about little girls, except that I love her with my whole heart and miss her so much it hurts.”
    Julia heard the pain in his voice, and, missing her sisters and brothers as much as she did, she understood his feelings. But she was still not going to accept a proposal for any reason except that he cared for her. Love would come if there was caring. And liking wasn’t caring. Although he seemed to be protective of her, that didn’t mean he cared enough to open his heart.
    He hadn’t mentioned a wife before now, which led her to believe he was still grieving. No. Despite her tenuous hold on survival, she would not accept a man she was beginning to care for, only to be a mother to his child. She wanted more from a marriage, and she deserved more.
    “I’m sorry, Fletcher. I must refuse you once again.”
    He looked genuinely perplexed. “Why?”
    How to explain to this man that he