Violet: Bride of North Dakota (American Mail-Order Bride 39) Read Free Page A

though, was a possibility. He was scanning the windows of the train, walking up toward her. He didn’t know she’d left the train, then, and that gave her the luxury of studying him. Her heart caught. He wasn’t as handsome as he’d led her to believe and was barely taller than she—but he had a nice smile.
    A very nice smile.
    She smiled back, her heart fluttering as he drew nearer.
    And then he walked past her—and embraced a woman climbing down from the train.
    Well. She certainly hoped he wasn’t James as she didn’t plan to share her husband with anyone.
    As people came and went, she kept searching for someone who resembled James as he had described himself—tall, dark, and handsome. But everyone was leaving the platform and heading for carriages and horses and wagons.
    And soon she was standing all alone on the platform. Why would he not be here? He had assured her that he would.
    Panic hit her, just as a grizzled old man walked toward her, carrying her bag, and asked, “Is this yours, Miss?”
    She nodded.
    He set the bright bag down beside her and looked into her eyes, concern in his own. “Would you like me to carry it to your wagon?”
    A slight dizziness swept through Violet. She must have faith in her James. He would be here for her. He had assured that he would, so he must just be running late. “That’s very kind of you, sir, but there is no need. My...” she paused, and then said, “ husband will be here for me any minute.”
    He nodded and gave a gruff smile. “Very well. Have a good day, Miss.”
    He bustled back to the train. Soon people started climbing onto the train, and it gave a short whistle.
    And still no sign of James Evans.
    Another whistle as the conductor called out, “ All aboard! ” The train began to make a loop around the station to head back the way it had come, but on another set of tracks.
    Her breathing quickened in her anxiety, and Violet shivered and pulled her coat about her, though the breeze had died down. There was no snow on the ground, but the clouds were thick in the air, and they promised that there might soon be some. The land around her was flat for as far as she could see.
    James wasn’t here to meet her? But surely he would be along any moment. Perhaps he was a man who had good intentions, but arrived late.
    He’d written “faithfully and forever.” He was merely temporarily detained. She had to believe that.
    Forcing back the anxiety, she looked about her, turning in a slow circle.
    She was alone on the platform. She couldn’t even see the station master.
    She was truly alone, standing on an empty platform, the wind blowing her scarf and cold cutting through her skin, the horizon flat, the people gone.
    And then she saw him!
    Surely it must be he, merely a few minutes late.
    Relief flood through her, weakening her knees. She unclutched her fingers from her reticule and flexed them.
    He drove a wagon, not a fine carriage, but perhaps she had misread. Or perhaps he was prone to exaggeration.
    But he had certainly not exaggerated his handsomeness . The man had a full head of wavy brown hair with definite streaks of blond, almost gold, running through it, and his hair tickled the collar of his jacket. She would enjoy running her fingers through that hair.
    As he pulled the horses to a stop and climbed down, he stood even taller than she’d expected, and he was more muscular, as well. Dressed ruggedly, in jeans and flannel shirt and warm brown coat, he wore a black hat on his head and a neat brownish-blond beard.
    As he strode toward her with long strides, she smiled at him.
    Finally, she took three steps toward him.
    He stopped. Tipped his hat. “Morning.”
    Happiness sang through her. This man was magnificent. He stood a head taller than her, and she felt safe already around him. Shyly, she said, “I am so glad to meet you. I was so afraid when I first arrived and you weren’t here.”
    He had intense, blue-green eyes. If she were a swooning woman,