RNWMP: Bride for Easton (Mail Order Mounties Book 11) by Cassie Hayes & Mail Order Mounties

Author:Cassie Hayes & Mail Order Mounties [Hayes, Cassie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

After escorting Molly to Mrs. Hildebrand’s suite of rooms, Easton’s first stop was the station, where he instructed Matthew to make sure the fake doctor boarded the next train out. His second stop was Sam’s.

“Here ya go, Commander,” Sam said, setting a plate in front of him. “And your iced tea, as usual.”

The steak still sizzled and the steaming baked potato melted a huge hunk of butter. Perfection! The tantalizing combined scents caused his stomach to rumble in anticipation of the tasty meal. Not that Molly wasn’t a wonderful cook, but this dinner seemed special to Easton. He’d taken a few meals at Sam’s since Molly blew into his life like a tornado, but he’d barely tasted the food because he’d been brooding over whatever argument they’d just had. The meal before him was a reminder of a time before, a time that seemed so far away, yet just out of reach.

Reaching for his glass, he stopped and smiled. A huge icicle stuck out of it, acting as the ‘ice’ in his iced tea.

“Cute,” he said to Sam, who was in the process of settling herself in the chair across from him.

She shrugged. “I work with what I got. We don’t get much call for iced tea this time of year, Commander, but you know I always keep a pitcher of it made up just for you.”

“Thanks, Sam.” Easton cut his first hunk of steak and popped it into his mouth with a smile. The smile faltered as he chewed the leathery steak. Strange…usually Sam’s food was impeccable.

“You seem to be in a better mood than the last few times you’ve been in,” Sam said, leaning back to appraise him.

“Molly was hired by a mother-to-be to stay with her for a week or so. Said I could put the cabin back to rights while she’s gone.”

“Ah, and you can’t wait for your life to return to normal, is that right?”

Easton pointed his fork at Sam and winked as he chewed…and chewed and chewed. He gulped down half the glass of tea just to wash it down. To cleanse his palate, he dug into the potato. No one can mess up a potato, he thought.

He was wrong.

It was tender enough, but something didn’t taste quite right. Not as if it had gone bad, just that it wasn’t as tasty as he remembered. He added salt and pepper, thinking that might help.

It didn’t.

“Any good gossip you’d like to share?” Sam asked.

“Pretty quiet since Jenkins lit out. Ran a snake-oil salesman out of town this afternoon, though.”

“Oh, that tall, lanky chap? Something-hawk?”

“Kinderhawk.”

“That’s the one. He tried to hawk — pardon the pun — his wares in here earlier. I chased him out with a broom. Good riddance, I say.”

No one messed with Sam or her business. She’d held little regard for Dr. Jenkins, the former head of the Institute, and the feeling was mutual. He had often complained to Easton about how harmful her liquor and meat were to his patients, but Easton

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