A Bride for Alston by Grist Kimberly

Author:Grist, Kimberly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-08T16:00:00+00:00

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Alston guided the horses around a large rut in the trail, then pulled to a stop on the hill overlooking the cabin. Elly’s mouth formed a perfect circle. Her gaze fixed on a cascade of water spilling from a limestone cliff. The white stream beat a rhythmic sound on the rock.

“The water from the falls is frigid, but the pool is fed by underground springs and is more moderate in temperature—about 70 degrees.” Alston’s breath hitched at the sight of his bride’s wide-eyed expression. The afternoon sun drew out a translucent color of gold, an almost coppery tint.

“How beautiful.” Elly gasped.

“I agree.” Alston shook his head. Get ahold of yourself. Don’t be taken in by a sweet voice and pretty face. “The house is simple, one main room and two small bedrooms. No indoor plumbing, so unless you want to haul and heat water, it’s much easier to take advantage of the pool.”

“We made use of our creek for bathing. But the water was freezing even in the summer. The thought of warm water so close seems luxurious. The opportunity to take a dip every day will be tempting.” Elly placed her hand over his.

Her hand was so small. A surge of protection swelled in his chest. “We’ll work out a system. While convenient not to have to haul water, we have to deal with the occasional wild animal. So, caution is in order. Can you shoot?”

“Tolerably well, I know how to handle my daddy’s Cavalry Carbine.” Elly’s mouth lifted in a slow smile. “Even if it wasn’t a single shot, it had such a kick, inevitably I’d find myself on the ground after I fired.”

“We’ll find you something easier to manage.” Alston’s shoulders shook imagining this tiny woman holding the Springfield Trapdoor, much less firing such a weapon. Sobering, he clucked to the horses, brought the wagon to a stop in front of the cabin, and waited. The first view of our home will be the straw that breaks Little Miss Sunshine’s demeanor. He pushed his hat to the back of his head.

Elly’s hand flew to her throat. “This reminds me so much of my grandparents’ original homestead. When I was a little girl, I always thought when I married, I would live there.”

“With Oliver Abernathy, I presume?” Alston raised one eyebrow.

“I should never have told you that story.” Elly's pale complexion took on a rosy glow. “But I’m excited to see the inside.”

Jumping Jehoshaphat, either the woman is a saint or an excellent actress.

Elly jumped from the wagon unassisted, hurried up the front porch, and placed her hand on a massive timber that ran the house’s full length.

“Everything is put together with dovetailing and wooden pegs—not a single nail.” Alston followed, carrying a crate filled with supplies. Placing his shoulder to the door, it opened with a cry of protest from the rusty hinge. Light flooded the room from the double windows, casting a warm glow on the thick log walls.

Taking a few steps to the kitchen, he placed the supplies next to the cellar door.

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