Nathan’s Montana Bride (Sweet Historical Mail Order Bride Romance) (Montana Ranchers Brides series) Read Free Page A

attracted him during their correspondence. She was a feisty and strong young woman who would make a perfect mother for Emma.  
    Nathan had tried his best and he had failed. There was nothing else he could do. He had hoped to persuade Abby in person. Indeed he had noticed she didn't exactly find him repulsive. In fact he was sure that on more than one occasion she'd had to restrain her emotions.  
    Nathan had tried reason and it had failed to persuade Abby.  
    "When are we going to see Abby again Papa?" Emma asked, looking straight up into her father's eyes.
    Nathan smiled and laid his hand on Emma's soft hair. "Maybe soon, darling. You never know."
    Emma's eyes glistened and Nathan was suddenly sure that his daughter was going to cry. He didn't want that. Not again. Not here.
    He crouched down and took his daughter's face in his hands. "There now Emma. Let's have none of that."
    Emma rolled her eyes and swallowed. "She's so beautiful Papa. Isn't she?"
    Nathan nodded. "She sure is Emma. Almost as beautiful as your mama."
    Emma smiled gently at the mention of her mother. "No-one is as lovely as my mama was," she said.
    Nathan stroked Emma's cheek. "I know that darling. I know."
    "Are we going home soon?"
    Nathan nodded. "Look's like we are."
    "She might change her mind."
    Nathan stood and took Emma's hand and started to head toward the stairwell. "Let's just wait and see. Shall we?"

CHAPTER THREE

    "You can't be serious Abby," Florence said. They were back home in Abby's room in their family's townhouse which faced onto a square in the centre of which was a large garden. Carriages drove by in the late afternoon sun. The windows were open and the air coming in from outside made the room cool and fresh.
    The two sisters lay on the bed, side by side.
    "I am serious. He asked me to go to Montana with him," Abby said.
    Florence sighed. "That must be exciting," she said with a dreamy tone of voice.
    Abby looked askance at Florence. "What! Florence Long. What has gotten into you."
    Florence smiled. "Think of how wonderful it must be to live out there. No rules. No horrible men preying on us at parties. You'd have everything you need. He looks like he has money," she said.
    Abby shrugged. "I've no doubt he has. But there is more to life than money."
    "You'd be surrounded by a beautiful land."
    "And no doubt the smells of a ranch!" Abby replied.
    Florence laughed. "He's a fine looking man," she said quietly.
    Abby gave her sister a stern look. "It's not just about looks. There's more to being married than looks," she stated firmly.
    Florence was right. Nathan Grantly was a fine looking man. He was tall, wide shouldered, with powerful legs that looked like they'd know how to tame a horse. His dark hair was lustrous and thick and his eyes seemed to always have a shine in them, in spite of the sadness and hardship he'd had to endure with the passing of his wife. Yes. If she was really pushed, Abby would have to admit that he was a handsome gentleman.
    But she could not marry him! That was simply not going to happen. No matter how fine looking he was; no matter how appealing it was to live out in Montana; no matter how wealthy he was with the ranch and all. She couldn't see herself as the wife of a rancher. Not with the darkness that clung at her soul.   The past and the truth couldn't be ignored. There was the reality of the truth she had discovered and it would not go away.
    Until that moment had arrived, until the shattering truth about herself had been revealed to her, the prospect of life in Montana had had strong appeal. There were too many boring and terrible young men hovering around the Long sisters, hoping for some social advantage from a marriage to a family whose father was a man of influence in Boston.  
    No. There were too many truly odious men on the social scene. This year in particular had been the worst. Abby thought about the parties she'd had to endure. Yes. That was the word. Endure.  
    The men at those social