Chasing the Sun Read Online Free PDF

soldiers lined up for inspection.
    Brady smiled, watching her. Her face was flushed. Her eyes sparkled. By her proud smile, it was obvious how pleased she was with her family, which greatly pleased him.
    Satisfied all was in order, she took her place at his side. “Do I look all right?” she whispered, smoothing back her coppery curls and brushing wrinkles from her skirts.
    Brady leaned down to kiss her temple. “You always look all right.”
    She flashed a smile. “As do you. Except perhaps for the whiskers.”
    “I didn’t have time to shave.”
    “Do you ever?”
    “I thought you liked it.”
    “It makes you look rakish.”
    He waggled his eyebrows. “Which you like. Especially when I—”
    “Hush.” Biting back a smile, she hiked her forceful little chin and watched her large, four-wheeled closed carriage roll through the arched gate and up the long drive to the house.
    “Can you see her?” Jessica shaded her eyes against the afternoon glare. “I can’t see her.”
    “That’s because she’s inside.” Brady studied her, wondering why she was so worked up. Was she that lonely out here so far from town that the prospect of a visitor would put her in such a dither? Had he been wrong to take her away from England and the genteel life she’d known there? The thought settled like a stone in his chest. He loved this woman more than he’d ever thought possible. He would kill for her, die for her, do anything. Except live without her. “Regrets, Jessica?”
    She glanced up, a tiny frown between her whiskey brown eyes. “About what?”
    “This. Us. Being stuck out here on the ranch.”
    His beautiful, proper, highly decorous wife punched him in the arm. “Dolt.”
    Reassured, Brady allowed himself to relax, enjoying the way her eyes followed the movement of his lips as he grinned. It was gratifying that even at thirty-seven he could still prime her pump with a smile. “She’s here.”
    “What? Oh!”
    The carriage rolled to a stop beside the wide steps leading down from the porch. No face showed in the curtained window. No hand threw open the door.
    Langley hopped down, lifted the mounting step from the driver’s box, and walked briskly to the side of the carriage. After setting the step on the ground, he opened the door.
    A woman’s booted foot showed, then a black-clad figure stepped out of the doorway. Black from head to toe, except for the white wimple around her face. “Hello, Brady, Jessica, Hank,” the woman said in a Spanish-accented voice.
    “Holy ...” Brady began before his wife elbowed him to silence.
    “Elena?” Jessica spoke hesitantly, her eyes round in her freckled face as she stared at the figure smiling up at them from the foot of the steps.
    “Is that a nun outfit?” Brady muttered.
    Jessica didn’t answer because she was already halfway down the steps. “Elena!” she cried, arms wide, laughing and crying as she rushed toward the woman.
    Brady turned to Hank. “Is that a nun outfit?”
    Hank shrugged.
    “It appears so,” Molly ventured.
    “What’s a nun outfit, Aunt Molly?” Penny asked.
    “Later, dear. I’ll explain it all to you later.”
    “Then you can explain it to me,” Brady said.
    “A nun,” Hank mused, still rooted to his spot on the porch. “When did she get to be a nun?”
    “She can’t be a nun,” Brady decided, watching the two women hugging and laughing and crying by the carriage. “Married women can’t be nuns.” He frowned at Hank. “Can they?”
    Hank frowned back.
    They both frowned at the coach. “Where’s Jack?”
    The women finally separated. Elena moved to the bottom step then stopped, hands clasped at her waist. She looked up at Brady. “ Hola, querido ,” she said with a tremulous smile.
    “You’re a nun.”
    “A novitiate. Next month I will be a true nun.”
    “How? I don’t understand. And where’s Jack?”
    Her smile slipped a bit. She spread her hands in welcome, revealing the heavy silver cross hanging on her belt.