Page 7 of Mail-Order Brides Wishes
“The Shannon place.” He pointed to the right. Up the hill, a mile or so from the road, along the crest of a valley, stood a row of houses and an array of outbuildings.
“I don’t know who the Shannons are, but it looks like they have a small town.”
“There’s four sons and a long-time hired man living there. They got a bunkhouse for other hired hands.” His gaze lingered on the passing buildings. “They’s partly responsible for Jayce and me getting mail-order brides.”
“That sounds like a story I’d like to hear.” She kept her gaze on the buildings until the trail curved away.
“Five of them got married that way. It’s worked out good.”
“So, their success gave you confidence it would work out for you too?” She meant the question to be reassuring but it might have come out sounding a bit challenging.
The slight jerk of his head was the only indication that he’d heard. Not that she’d expected any more illumination on the subject.
“I believe it will work out good for both of us.” He glanced back at Susie. Slowly his gaze came to Brynlee. “For us all.” It seemed as much hope and prayer as anything.
Guessing her eyes were too big but unable to correct the matter, she held his gaze. “We will succeed if it depends on me.”
“I intend to make it work.”
These were the vows they should have spoken at the preacher’s parlor, but having given and heard the words now, Brynlee sat back with more confidence than she’d felt since she’d left home.
Only one thing bothered her. From what he'd said he’d never had a woman’s influence in his life. No mother. Raised around cowboys and cows. Rowena’s visit had only been for the summer so even that was too short in duration for him to have grown familiar with sharing his days with a woman and child.
It could prove interesting.
Or disastrous.
Flint turned her words over and over in his mind. She had not shown any hint that living with her grandparents had been difficult. Yet when she spoke of young Susie, he could tell she wanted something more for the little girl. So did he. On that, they agreed.
Snuffling and shuffling behind him let him know Susie had wakened.
“Auntie, I gots to go to the toilet.”
Not waiting for Miss Faraday— hold on, she was now Mrs. March— to tell him he should, Flint guided the team off the trail and to a stop. He got down and lifted Susie from the box.
The child didn’t resist but she ducked her head as if needing to hide her face from him.
How long would it take for him to win her trust? And more? Her affection? The answers lay in the future.
“Auntie, I gots to go.” Susie jiggled up and down.
Flint hurried to her auntie’s side and helped her to the ground.
She caught Susie’s hand and they trotted into the trees and out of sight.
Birds lifted from the branches and scolded at being disturbed. Maybe more’n birds were gonna have to get used to having their quiet shattered. If anyone could see him now, they’d wonder why he grinned so widely. He wouldn’t be able to find words to answer. But here he was— Flint March— who’d never had a thing he could call his own exceptin’ for his horse and saddle. Now he was part owner of a ranch, had a house he called his, and was about to bring home a wife and child.
Thank you, God. Life don’t get much better’n that.
He heard their return before he saw them and not just because of the protest of birds and the rustle of leaves. Susie’s voice carried like a bell although he couldn’t make out what she said.
The pair broke into sight. Flint’s smile remained in place.
“We sawed a crow. He yelled at us.” Susie huffed as if offended.
Unexpected amusement caught at Flint and escaped as a stomach-shaking chuckle. It took a moment before he could speak. “Did he now?”
Susie crossed her arms and nodded hard enough to send her hair flying.
