Into the Evermore (The Gentrys of Paradise Book 1) by Holly Bush

Author:Holly Bush [Bush, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holly Bush Books
Published: 2017-04-03T18:00:00+00:00

Beau knocked on his wife’s door, his wife!, he thought in some wonder, and waited.

“Good morning, Beauregard,” Eleanor said, smiling and rosy cheeked, when she opened her door.

“Good morning. I want to have the men at the stable check the wheels on the wagon. I thought we’d take it out this morning to find our property. It may take some time at the stables. Would you like to wait here?”

She pulled on a straw poke bonnet and tied the wide blue ribbon under one ear. “I’ll go to the mercantile while you are at the stable. You can bring the wagon there when you’re done, if that is agreeable to you.”

“By yourself?” he said and twirled his hat in his hand.

She turned to him. “I imagine I will be by myself as you’ll be at the stables. We did not bring many of the things I’ll need in a household from Allentown, as my mother intended to purchase items when we arrived. I don’t mean to purchase much, but I’ll need soap and salt, at the very least. Could you see if there are any burlap sacks to be had at the mill?”

“Could you wait until I’m finished at the stable?”

Eleanor tilted her head and stared at him. “I went to the mercantile by myself when we stayed here. Reverend Buckland told my father it was perfectly fine for me to go alone during the day. I went several times and took my sisters on some occasions, too.”

Beau had seen women of all ages walking alone out in the town over the last few days, but they had not been his wife. She was staring at him now with raised brows. “Just be careful. There are always drifters coming though towns like this.”

She smiled up at him, and he realized he would most likely grant her anything to see her smile and her eyes crinkle up at the corners. He escorted her down the street with a hand under her elbow, past horses, buggies, and troughs ’til she was at the door of the mercantile.

“Be about an hour, I think, and I’ll come by for you.”

“Thank you. That will be fine,” she said as she pulled a paper from her bag and whisked herself past pickle barrels and into the store.

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