Dacey: Bride of North Carolina (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 12) Read Online Free PDF

Beatrice sighed before continuing. “Daniel is a good man and I do love him, but Brax and I maintain control of all business dealings. Despite his many positive attributes, my husband does not possess a head for business matters. He spends his days hunting, riding, and pretending he’s a country squire while Braxton and I work with the overseer to keep this place going.”
    Dacey smiled with understanding. “What do you raise here at Bramble Hall?”
    “Other than a devilishly handsome son?” Beatrice teased, delighted by the bright spots of pink blossoming in Dacey’s cheeks.
    Dacey nodded and Beatrice laughed.
    “My father raised tobacco, but during the war years we had to diversify. We also grow wheat and sweet potatoes.”
    “I love seeing fields of wheat, golden and ripe, blowing in the breeze,” Dacey said, swamped by a wave of homesickness for the ranch in Oregon.
    Beatrice smiled knowingly. “It is a lovely sight, for certain. Braxton talked me into planting an apple orchard five years ago, and that’s been doing well, too. We also have the horses. They are Brax’s special project, although I enjoy watching him work with them.”
    “They’re beautiful animals,” Dacey said, setting down her teacup and looking at Mrs. Douglas. “The one I rode was very clever and well-trained.”
    “You rode one of the horses already?” Beatrice’s eyebrows nearly met her hairline. There was no doubt Braxton Douglas got his dark hair and stormy eyes as well as much of his charm from his mother.
    “Yes, ma’am. I didn’t plan to, it just sort of happened.”
    Beatrice bounced slightly on the seat, like a happy schoolgirl. “Tell me all about it.”
    “I noticed the horses from the main road and stopped to pet several of them. They followed me when I turned the corner and started down the road that would lead me here.” Dacey giggled. “The next thing I knew, I was riding across the pasture on the back of a beautiful chestnut mare.”
    “Polly,” Beatrice said, grinning at Dacey. “She’s a sweetheart.”
    “And so intelligent. She responded to my commands better than many horses I’ve ridden.”
    “Where did you find a bridle or saddle?” Beatrice asked, slightly perplexed.
    Dacey ducked her head. “I rode her bareback.” At Beatrice’s astonished look, she hurried to explain. “I’ve done that hundreds of time at home on our ranch. That’s why I mostly wear these skirts. It makes it easy to ride, if I take a notion to jump on the back of a horse.”
    Beatrice rose and motioned for Dacey to join her. “You may ride anytime you wish, and despite what others might say, ride however you like. Now, tell me more about your skirt.”
    Dacey showed the older woman how the skirt’s front placket unbuttoned to allow her to straddle a horse. As they walked into the entry hall, Beatrice noticed Dacey’s bag and hat on the floor.
    “Where is your trunk, dear? Did Harry forget to carry it inside?”
    “No, ma’am. It seems my trunk jumped off the train back in Raleigh. Mr. Jones at the depot said he’d make sure it arrived tomorrow.”
    “I see,” Beatrice said, while her mind plotted ways to dress Dacey like a living doll. She assumed most of the girl’s clothes would be far too plain and simple for her social circles. A visit to the dressmaker would be essential, particularly with the annual Harvest Ball taking place at Bramble Hall in a few weeks.
    Determined to aid Dacey in adjusting to her new surroundings, Beatrice would do everything in her power to help the young woman not only fit in, but turn Braxton’s stubborn head.
    Beatrice picked up Dacey’s hat while the girl grasped the handles of her valise. “Let’s get you settled into your room, darling.” The older woman led the way up a curving staircase to the third floor.
    Overwhelmed by the grandeur of the home, Dacey tried not to gawk. Her gaze took in the elaborate tapestries hanging on the walls and the sparkling chandeliers overhead