Laurel_Bride of Arkansas by Carra Copelin

Author:Carra Copelin [Copelin, Carra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, Romance, Fiction, Forever Love, Victorian Era, western, Fifth In Series, saga, Fifty-Books, Forty-Five Authors, Newspaper Ad, short story, American Mail-Order Bride, Bachelor, Single Woman, marriage of convenience, Christian, Religious, Faith, inspirational, Factory Burned, Pioneer, Arkansas, Philadelphia, Society, Massachusetts, Tornado, Father, Threats, Stranger, Family Life, Two Children, Wife Deceased, Farmer, Common Ground, Goals
Goodreads: 27826538
Publisher: Carra Copelin
Published: 2015-12-13T05:00:00+00:00

***

Laurel met him in the kitchen. Since it took her longer to get dressed, he was already in the process of fixing breakfast, but he didn’t seem upset. It’s just as well, since I had a little more to do than put on my pants.

He had bacon frying in one pan, the coffee pot was heating on a back burner, and grease sat in another skillet waiting to be heated. Glancing over at her, he grabbed the loaf of bread that Edna had sent, and then handed her the bowl of eggs

“Here, take care of these for us.” Picking up the knife, he asked, “Do you want one slice or two?”

“One, please.” She stood beside him holding the bowl, watching him intently. What in the world was she supposed to do with these? How did he want them cooked? She could break them and stir them like Cook had done, but she didn’t have any fancy ingredients, or she could consult Aunt Jennie. But he’d see her, and he’d know that she couldn’t cook. In reality, though, how long could she keep up the charade? Their conversation from last night about secrets echoed in her head. “Griffin, this may not be a good time, but I have to tell you something.”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” He turned to face her, holding four slices of bread and with a broad smile on his face. “What is it, my little mountain flower?”

Her face warmed at his use of the name he’d called her last night and she lowered her eyes. She couldn’t think about that right now. She had to tell him she’d come here under false pretenses. She’d perhaps been over confident sitting in her room at the boardinghouse, crafting her letter, trying to sound positive about her abilities, but not specific. In the end, she’d lied. What would she do if he sent her to back to Massachusetts?

She had to face the consequences of her actions, so she might as well confess now rather than later. Holding her breath for a few seconds, she let it out, looked up at him and announced, “I can’t cook.”

He threw his head back and laughed out loud. “That’s it? That’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“Well, y-yes, I . . .” She stammered. This was not the reaction she’d expected. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because I knew.”

“How did you know? I said in my letter that—”

“That you could run a household.” He set the bread slices on the counter top. “If you had any skills, you’d have said so in order to make sure I thought you’d be a good candidate for my wife. And then there was that first time I saw you standing there on the platform.”

“What?”

“Everything about you screamed quality. You looked like a woman who was used to being spoiled and pampered.”

“But I’m not.”

“I know that, now, don’t I?”

She folded her arms at her waist and glared at him. “Then why didn’t you immediately put me on the

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