The Ranger's Wife: Mail Order Bride by Hart Eveline

Author:Hart, Eveline [Hart, Eveline]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Eveline Hart
Published: 2017-02-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

“So, this is the lucky bride!”

A man with slick dark hair and a mustache who appeared to be in his mid-thirties met them as they pulled up to the large ranch home.

With a bright smile, which would have put her mother’s fake charm to shame, he moved towards the wagon as Mr. Jacobs pulled the horses to a stop.

“Evenin’ Mr. Miles,” Mr. Jacobs said. “This is Mrs. Bernadette Dixon.”

Bernadette saw Mr. Jacobs climb down from the wagon and begin to make his way towards the other side, presumably to see her down safely. Before he could, however, the slick haired Mr. Miles appeared at her side, gallantly offering his hand to bring her down.

“Mrs. Dixon,” he said. “What a pleasure to meet you at last. Matt has told us so much about you.”

Mr. Miles lifted her hand to his lips and placed a gallant kiss upon them, just as her smarmy young suitors had done at balls before she’d met and married Frank Dixon. And, the expression that she saw in Mr. Miles’ face made her like him about as much as she’d liked those suitors.

His dark, beady eyes looked up at her as though she were a prize to be won rather than a human being and the ostentatious greeting which he gave was certainly less genuine than Mr. Jacob’s own awkward ‘hello.'

“It is good that one of us knows something of the other,” Bernadette replied. “Mr. Jacobs failed to mention you entirely in his letters.”

Bernadette had hoped to wipe at least a bit of the smug smile off Mr. Miles face with that statement. Mr. Miles, however, did not look at all perturbed. Indeed, he laughed at this.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “Well, we had both hoped that Matt would have his own homestead by now. We may have been a little more optimistic than the bank. I am sure you are aware how slowly these things can go.”

“I hope they do not go too slowly,” Bernadette said. “After living off the kindness of relatives for the past three years, I am eager to have my own home.”

“Of course,” Mr. Miles said. “And I am sure you must be exhausted from your journey. Matt, why don’t you take Mrs. Dixon’s trunk to her room in the back of the house. I’ll have Billy get the supper ready.”

Bernadette could not help but be surprised at this order. From the way Mr. Miles was speaking, it was as though he, and not Mr. Jacobs, was her host. As if Mr. Jacobs was nothing more than a hired hand, a servant meant to see to the guest's needs.

She turned to Mattathias to see how he might take this. To her surprise, the much taller and clearly stronger Mattathias nodded to Mr. Miles subserviently and grabbed her trunk from the back of the wagon.

“If you’ll follow me, Mrs. Dixon,” he said awkwardly.

With a curious glance at Mr. Miles, she turned and began to follow her fiancé. Before she got too far, Mr. Miles voice stopped her.

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