Rocky Mountain Bride (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 2)

Rocky Mountain Bride (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 2) Read Free Page A

Book: Rocky Mountain Bride (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 2) Read Free
Author: Lee Savino
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away.
    If Miles Donovan had faith, then so could she.
    When she looked up again, the bird was gone, but a cloud of dust was rising over the scrub brush, with horse hooves beating rhythm to match her heart’s.
    Out of the shimmering light, a beautiful bay morgan galloped over the reddened ground. Its rider sat tall and proud, face obscured by a broad-brimmed hat, moving with the horse’s strides as if he and beast were one.
    Carrie caught a glimpse of a stern jaw and solemn mouth before the rider dismounted on the other side of the great, sweating bay. She waited on the porch, unable to move, as the man checked his mount, running a hand over its withers.
    The wind caught her sampler and blew it to the ground, catching the horse and rider’s attention. The hat swung her way, then tilted. Tawny eyes swept over her, taking her in head to toe. The man gave the bay a final pat, then moved towards her with measured steps.
    He looked the same age as the impertinent Mr. Wilder, but there the similarity ended. Broad and built, he wore rough clothes that spoke of many hours work. His face was strong-featured and striking, with dusty skin burnt almost as tan as the mountain range. As he approached, he took off his hat and she saw his hair, though darkened with sweat, was a reddish brown like his horse.
    He never took his eyes off her. Halfway to her, he leaned down and lifted up her sewing. The sampler seemed tiny in his hands.
    “Here you are, Mr. Donovan.” Martin came out of the shop, wiping his face again with his kerchief. “A few things came for you. I’d thought you’d forgotten.”
    Both men looked at Carrie, but she still couldn’t move. This tall, rugged man who rode a horse easy as breathing, this man was going to be her husband.
    After a pause, Mr. Martin cleared his throat. “Miss Winters.” He emphasized the Miss . “May I present Mr. Miles Donovan. Donovan, Miss Carrie Winters. I’ll, uh, leave you two alone.”
    Carrie barely heard the shopman’s chuckle as Miles Donovan walked the rest of the way to her, his tanned face intense and unsmiling.
    His jaw seemed a shade lighter than the rest of his face; the paleness proof of a regular beard he’d shaved off that morning. He’d cleaned up for her, and put on his best clothes, a faded white shirt and tan breeches, clean but with a hole in the side that needed darning.
    He was still watching her, and she realized how drab and dirty she must look. After six days in the stage coach, her skin had a new crop of cursed freckles, despite all her prayers that her cheeks would remain pale and unsullied. Back home, her curvy form under her dress drew many approving stares, but on this trip she’d taken to covering her charms under layers of calico and a carefully draped shawl. The men had still stared as if she was the only woman for a hundred miles. Perhaps she was.
    But now her dress was dusty, she’d lost the shawl, and her formerly fresh white collar and cuffs looked faded and worse for wear. Reaching up, she reassured herself that her hair was still behaving; only one unruly curl had escaped from her bonnet. She pushed it back, and bit her lip, feeling small and inadequate.
    Mr. Donovan still hadn’t said a word. She wondered if he was disappointed. But no, the fierce eyes seemed impartial. Miles Donovan looked like a man who waited to pass judgment, and when he did, spoke his mind and didn’t recant it. A good man, hard, but fair.
    He was nothing like she’d imagined. Not even her most secret thoughts could conjure up such a handsome face with such a stern set to his jaw and intense stare.
    Swallowing hard, she tried to clear her throat, or at least uproot her body from its seat, when he bent down and held out her sewing to her. She took it, thinking his hand looked as large and rough as the floorboards.
    “Miss Winters,” he said in a deep voice that matched his stern face. “I take it the journey went well.”
    She nodded, unable to find her voice.
    He

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