A Broken Wing (Kansas Crossroads) by Amelia C. Adams

Author:Amelia C. Adams [Adams, Amelia C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-11-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

After dinner, Trinity had excused herself and gone upstairs, where she all but fell into bed and into a hard sleep. Now it was three in the morning, and she was wide awake, jolted by a bad dream.

She crossed the floor and peered out the window. The moon was bright and full, almost crisp in its whiteness. It sent a shaft of light across the ground and seemed to land right on her. She wished she could somehow walk up the moonbeam path and see what was up there, so far above.

Her imagination was going to get her in trouble one of these days. Shaking her head, she climbed back into bed, determined to go back to sleep.

But she couldn’t. The bed was comfortable, and she had plenty of blankets. She wasn’t too cold or too hot, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t relax. Finally, she stared at the ceiling and allowed herself to think about Mr. Foster . . . Dr. Foster . . . Raymond.

He was easily the most infuriating man she’d ever met, the way he picked things apart and analyzed her and questioned everything she said. But the way he looked at her . . . she felt like a pat of butter on a warm day. When he spoke in her defense, it nearly made her cry—she’d never heard anything so wonderful in her life.

And then when he said, “If I wanted you for my wife . . .”

No. She wasn’t going to think about it. Her heart had leaped when she heard it, true, but that didn’t make it a reality. He was appalled at the way she’d been treated because he was a good man. Gracious—did she really think she could fall in love with someone after knowing him for just a matter of hours? That’s not how things worked, and she was engaged to marry Thomas Wells.

She tried to bring Thomas up in her mind. What did he look like? She remembered a small white beard, blue eyes, and a cane that seemed mostly for show. He had a pleasant laugh, and he had indicated interest in her needlework. That was all. She could remember nothing about his personality, his likes or dislikes, his religion—if he even had a religion—this was a sorry state. She knew more about a man she’d met on the train than she did about the man she was marrying.

This was ridiculous. She climbed out of bed and put her yellow dress back on, then slipped down the stairs. One of the waitresses was in the lobby, probably to see to the needs of any late-arriving guests, and gave her a smile as she passed.

As she opened the front door and stepped onto the porch, the cool night air washed over her, and she took a deep breath. Crickets sounded somewhere in the distance, and the moon seemed even brighter when there wasn’t a pane of glass separating her from it.

“Are you having a hard night?”

Trinity turned at the soft female voice and saw Mrs.

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