The Convict and the Cattleman by Allison Merritt Read Free Book Online Page B

pleased at the gesture, she smiled.
    He dropped her hand when her feet touched the ground. “I’m sure you’re anxious about work. Martha can’t keep up with feeding the wranglers and the other chores.” He strode toward the house and up the porch steps.
    She hurried behind him.
    The door opened with ease. He held it for her, until the hem of her dress swept inside, and then he hung his hat on a peg on the wall. His boots made heavy thuds on the polished wood floor. Bridgit stood in awe as she looked at the entryway. A colorful woven rug brightened the hall and rose-patterned wallpaper added to the cheeriness of the place. Or it would have been cheery if not for the coat of dust covering everything. Whoever Martha was, she apparently hadn’t learned about dusting.
    Mr. Andrus gestured. “Come on. I’ll let you peek at your room and then get the introductions out of the way.”
    She couldn’t help admiring the heavy carved furniture, or the sound of the grandfather clock’s chime. A woman’s touch was obvious based on the small details around the house. Lacy runners on tables, empty vases on windowsills, the flowery wallpaper.
    They climbed the stairs and made their way down another hall. He stopped before a door, resting his hand on the knob. After a slight hesitation, he opened the door and moved, allowing her to enter first.
    Ivory-colored curtains were drawn back, showering the room with sunlight. A wedding ring quilt and a ruffled skirt decorated a large mahogany four-poster bed. The kind of bed she had only dreamed of. An old bureau sat in the corner, beside it a washstand, and on the opposite wall a vanity. A yellowed doily decorated the middle of the vanity, along with a silver-backed brush set, much like the one Bridgit’s mother had owned. Her heart wrenched and she realized this was Charlotte’s room. Mr. Andrus gazed around as though he expected his sister.
    Too in awe, she struggled to raise her voice above a whisper. “It’s nice. Thank you, sir.”
    He frowned. “There are some things here you might be able to use. You’ve come unprepared, but there’s no need for you to do without. You’ve no bonnet to keep the sun off your face, or toiletries. If you can make use of some of her things, help yourself.”
    His voice was matter-of-fact and detached. A knot in her throat kept her from speaking. How would it affect him to see her using his lost sister’s things? It wasn’t fair to remind him of Charlotte. The sorrow on his face was well masked, but she wanted to soothe it away. He’d shown concern for her when she hurt herself; she wished she could help him somehow.
    He nodded at the far wall. “That’s the nursery. Olivia is right next door for convenience.”
    Bridgit snuffed the urge to offer a comforting touch. He glared at the closed door like it might be a portal to hell. She had no such qualms. Meeting Olivia excited her more than arriving at Laurie Lark had. As much as she wanted to wander the garden and see the rest of the house, the desire to snuggle the baby was stronger.
    “May I?” she asked.
    He shrugged. “I’ll bring your bag up. If you need anything, Martha or Farjana can help you.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Andrus,” Bridgit said again.
    He paused for a second, then retreated. With shaking hands and a hopeful heart, she opened the door that connected her room with the nursery.
    In the corner stood a bassinet decorated with delicate lace. A changing table stocked with plenty of nappies and gowns sat nearby. By the window, an ornately carved rocking chair provided a view of the grounds. The perfect spot for soothing a baby. It seemed Charlotte had arranged everything accordingly. Bridgit stepped toward the bassinet.
    The sight of the tiny girl took her breath away. Olivia appeared perfect. Her fist was in her mouth, her eyes closed as she dreamed. Bridgit reached out and smoothed dark curls off Olivia’s forehead. The child stirred and sighed. The corners of her mouth lifted