Marry Me Read Free

mind,” Emily said with appropriate solemnity. The last thing she intended was to save her sister from another marriage of convenience only to be forced into one herself. But Murphy seemed so earnest in his advice, she hadn’t the heart to reject it out of hand.
    “I’m off, then.”
    He drove away without looking back. Despite the fact that no one would accuse Murphy of being a scintillating conversationalist, and Emily suspected those would be fighting words should anyone try, she found herself unable to keep from watching him drive off like he was her last, best friend, her eyes tracking the back of his wagon until the settling gloom swallowed him up as he rounded over the edge of a swale.
    What now? The wind rustled through the grass, whispering the question. It seemed as if there should be a thousand things to do, but she couldn’t think of one.
    And so she spun slowly, skimming her gaze over the land, trying to get it to settle in and take hold, trying to reconcile it with home . On her way to visit Anthea, neat, square little pieces of land, framed by the train windows, clicked nicely by, here and there a rustic little town, completely charming from a distance.
    And even Gabriel’s ranch was far less…intimidating than this, bounded by the enclosing mountains, crisscrossed by stock paths, tamed by cowboys.
    This…this could never be tamed by anyone. The land wasn’t as flat as it first appeared; the darkening sky exposed slight washes and bluffs, the shadows hollowing beneath, the sun glistening gold along the top of the ledges. The grass rippled and swayed, a living thing in a way the clipped lawns of Philadelphia never were. And she was alone, completely and utterly, in a way she had never been before in her entire life. She could shout, she realized, scream to the sky, and no one, not one single person, would come running.
    She shivered. But it was beautiful, for all that, the way she could trace the gradations of color across the sky, gold in the west, and then pink, red, bleeding into violet where it bumped down against the ground again in the east. And there a light flickered on, so suddenly she blinked.
    She couldn’t judge the distance. A small light, close? A bright one, farther? But she wasn’t alone after all. There were others who’d made this place their home, who’d lit a lamp and were now settling in for the evening. To supper, perhaps.
    As she should be. She certainly couldn’t stand out there all night.
    The little shack seemed no larger as she approached it. But it wasn’t as if she needed much space just for her. It’d be easier for her to maintain. She’d be…cozy. Who wanted to rattle around in a big echoing space like her brother-in-law’s manse?
    Rope as thick as her wrist trailed down from each corner. She followed the nearest one down, brushed aside the grass with her hand, and found it tied securely to a sturdy stake wedged in the ground. Just like a circus tent, she thought, and it made her smile. She tugged on the rope, found it firm. At least it wouldn’t blow over in the night. That was good to know…though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to worry about it.
    The front door sagged open, hanging by a single leather hinge, and she gingerly tugged it wider, relieved when it didn’t fall off in her hand. The interior was dim, the shutters closed, the fading sunlight behind her throwing her shadow tall and wavering across the wide-planked floor.
    She squinted, trying to make it out. The room couldn’t measure more than twelve by fourteen, intriguing shapes lurking in the shadows. The sun slipped lower, glinting off glass as it slid past—a lantern. She grabbed it off the wall, and kerosene sloshed.
    Emily dashed back to her pile of supplies, congratulating herself that she’d made sure the matches were readily accessible. Curiosity had her hurrying back to the shack. The lamp balked only once before catching, light and odorous smoke wafting from it in equal