Mail-Order Sarah by Kate Bridges

Author:Kate Bridges
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781989198469
Publisher: Cabin Lake Publishing

Sarah needed to escape. John’s proximity, both physically and mentally—his wild but accurate guess that she’d taken his journal—gripped her heart with looming dread. He was an observant man. No wonder he was in the force. Under any other circumstance she’d be extremely proud of his skills, but not when he used them against her.

Extricating herself from his grip, she vowed she wouldn’t let him intimidate her. With determination in her stride, she walked into the kitchen past the ladies scrubbing and cleaning, then boldly left him gaping after her as she stepped through the back door.

John followed her into the garden. They were alone here. Overhead, the moon glimmered in the night sky like a big wax candle. The sultry light draped itself across the raspberry bushes and apple trees. Had John also noticed the lovely fragrance in the air, of ripe apples and sweet earth? Sarah wondered if he noticed how beautiful the evening was or was he only interested in pursuing his puzzle?

“Sarah, I asked you a question.”

His breath rippled across the back of her neck. His civil tone hammered through her chest. “You speak to me as if I’m a stranger.” When he didn’t deny it, the hollowness inside her multiplied. “You talk to me as if I’m a witness in the jailhouse and you’re interrogating me.”

“I’m trying to be fair, which I do for everyone. If you’re slighted, it’s all in your imagination. Please don’t muddy the waters. I asked you a question.”

She walked to the garden bench that they’d argued on earlier and ran her fingers along the smooth hard back. Where was the man who’d tenderly cared for a frightened boy only thirty minutes earlier? “You asked me two. Which do you want me to answer first?”

He placed a hand on his lean hip. His black leather vest parted, accentuating the silky white fabric of his shirt. She watched the moonlight dance across his golden skin, melting into the curves of his throat.

The wrinkle between his black brows deepened. “How did you come to recognize Angus McIver’s guns to be Navy Colts?”

“My father carried similar guns while I was growing up.”

“I thought you said he was a watchmaker.”

“He was. He…he kept guns in the store to protect himself.”

“Navy Colts?”

Among others. “Yes.”

“Those are mighty fine guns for the average man.”

“I guess my father wasn’t average.”

“And you knew the caliber of Angus’s guns to be .35.”

She nodded briskly then tried to step out of his glare. Reaching above her head, she snapped a large yellow apple from its branch, wrapping her fingers around the firm ball.

“Your father had .35 caliber guns, too, I suppose. And that’s why you recognized them across the street.”

“That’s right.”

“Aha. So you admit it was across the street. How could you notice them at that distance?”

“You’d…you’d recognize them, too, wouldn’t you?”

He stumbled. “If I was looking closely, I would.”

“So it’s not entirely impossible.”

“But I’m a policeman. That’s my job.”

“It was a lucky circumstance that I noticed them. Guns have always attracted my attention.

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