Marrying Off Morgan McBride by Amy Barry

Author:Amy Barry [Barry, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-05-30T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

Pip couldn’t leave the dishes undone. It wasn’t right. She’d never be able to sleep thinking about the tower of pots and plates that Junebug had left on the banks of the creek. Pip had been raised to leave no job left undone. Her mother insisted on coming down in the morning to a spotless kitchen, and while a creek bank wasn’t a kitchen, dirty dishes were dirty dishes just the same.

Junebug had readily abandoned her after-dinner chores in favor of dancing, and Pip couldn’t blame her for that. She’d enjoyed the dancing, too, and the two of them had worked hard to cook for the crowd, so why shouldn’t they enjoy a dance? After a long happy night, Junebug had fallen asleep by the fire, her head against Morgan’s chest, his arm wrapped around her, dirty dishes the furthest thing from her mind. Pip felt a crazy envy seeing her cradled against Morgan; it looked like a wonderful place to be.

The man was a constant surprise. His gruffness certainly hid a tender heart. He’d been kind to her in the garden, and patient as he learned to wrap the rainbow trout in greens. And the way he’d danced with Junebug was something to see. Junebug had dangled from his arms, her feet knocking against his knees as he skipped her about like she weighed nothing at all. He hadn’t removed his arm from around her shoulders afterward, as they sat companionably by the fire after the dancing. He was fatherly, in the best possible way. There was no trace of the man she’d met down in Bitterroot, the one who blew right over her like a hurricane. That Morgan McBride was bombastic and had a complete inability to listen. This Morgan McBride was attentive and . . . well, sweet. Pip was mesmerized by the way he nudged Junebug awake, pushing her mop of hair off her face and telling her to get to bed. Pip had almost expected him to carry the girl like she was a small child, but he’d merely pulled Junebug to her feet and led her up the meadow to the log cabin. Pip had watched them go, feeling keenly bittersweet at the sight of them. She’d never had anyone treat her as lovingly as Morgan McBride treated his little sister. Her father had certainly never danced with her, or even put his arm around her. Pip remembered the way Morgan had stood there in the dining room of the hotel, patiently absorbing the impact of all those shattering plates and teacups that Junebug had thrown. For such a seemingly cantankerous man he hadn’t shown much temper then. He was a riddle, Pip thought with a sigh, as he and Junebug disappeared into the night.

Pip had enjoyed a truly wonderful night with the McBrides. The loose and relaxed way they dined around the campfire, plates balanced on their laps, was a far cry from the stuffiness of Pip’s parents’ dining room. There were no

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