Stranger's Bride by Denise Hunter

Author:Denise Hunter [Hunter, Denise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781630584337
Google: 2rF9BAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Thorndike Press
Published: 1998-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

❧

Sara bolted upright and sat with her ears alert and her heart thrashing in her chest. She’d heard a sound. A bump, she thought, but she couldn’t be certain, for she’d been sleeping soundly and had heard it on the rim of her consciousness.

She scanned the room and relaxed when she saw where she was. This wasn’t her room in Boston, and Pete wasn’t going to come crashing through the door. She was at the ranch in Kansas. Safe.

She fell back against her pillow and willed her heart to slow its pace. When would she get beyond the horror of her life in Boston?

The room was nearly pitch-black, so she knew the night was well under way. She turned over and closed her eyes in an attempt to coax her body back to sleep. After several minutes, it became clear that she was too restless to fall asleep again.

A yearning for a cool glass of water sent her padding across the wood floor. She tiptoed down the staircase, feeling her way as she went, rounded the corner, and passed the table.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Sara jumped with a start, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh! Nathan! I think you scared ten years off my life!” She grasped the back of an empty chair.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He was sitting in the dark, and she could just make out his form. He stood and walked to the wall lamp. “Let me light this so you can see where you’re going.”

As he lit the lamp, she went into the kitchen and called to him. “I’m pouring myself a glass of water; would you like some?”

“No, thanks. I already have some.” His chair groaned as he seated himself.

She pumped water into a glass and had just started for the dining room when he spoke.

“I think I’ll head back up to. . .”

He stopped when Sara came into the doorway. He was studying her in an odd way that made her aware of the nightgown she was wearing. It was modest, and showed less of her than a dress, but a nightie seemed so intimate. She wrapped her arms around herself.

“What?” she asked.

“Your hair.”

A hand fluttered to her hair, and she realized it was down. Her heart sank when she remembered all the disparaging remarks Pete had made about it. Her eyes found the floor.

She blurted out, “I know it’s. . .it’s. . .”

“Lovely.”

Her startled eyes met his. “All those curls. I had no idea. And it falls clear to your waist.”

Her face heated and she took a sip of water to cover her embarrassment.

“You should wear it down all the time. It’s very becoming.”

She rewarded him with a timid smile. “That wouldn’t be very proper. . .or practical.”

He smiled in return. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t,” he said. “Well, as I was saying, I think I’ll head back up to my room. ’Night.”

“Good night.”

She stood staring at the staircase long after he was gone.

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