Darby: Bride of Oregon (American Mail-Order Bride 33) Read Online Free PDF Page A

dearie,” said the old woman as she
moved to the end of the car.
    A gentleman who had been watching Darby off and on
since the last stop stepped in front of her and removed his hat. “Would you
allow me to carry your bags, miss?”
    She smiled in thanks. “If you’ll lift them down
for me, that would be kind enough, sir.”
    He nodded, flipped his hat back onto his head,
then pulled the bags from the shelf. Unfortunately, he hung onto them. “I can’t
possibly expect you to carry these heavy things yourself. I should at least
assist you into the depot.”
    Others passed them in the narrow walkway,
listening to the conversation, watching to see how she would react.
    She smiled kindly again as she stepped forward
onto the toe of his boot, then pressed down on it, the movement hidden beneath
the generous folds of her skirt. “Ye’re mistaken, aye? They weigh nothing a’tall.
And I canna delay ye any longer than I already have.”
    His practiced smile slid slowly from his face.
    She held out both hands and waited for him to set
the handles into her grasp, all the while pressing firmly on his toes, silently
promising him a great deal more pain should he refuse her.
    “I believe you’re right, ma’am.” He handed them
over. After she released his toes, he slid his foot out of her reach, then
backed away. “I don’t reckon you’ll have any trouble with those at all.”
    But what was more important was that she wouldn’t
have any more trouble with him .
    She was the last one off the train. There were a
few men still standing on the platform, including one man obviously waiting for
someone. His Stetson was pushed back away from a puffy nose and an anxious but
friendly face. When his searching eyes turned in her direction, she had a split
second to decide who she was—or rather, who she intended to be for the rest of
her life.
    She looked away quickly and found the man who had
tried to help her with her bags. No longer the center of attention, he leaned
against a pole and glowered at her.
    “Miss McClintock, I hope?” The friendly man stood
with his hat now in his hands. A head of thick curly hair made it seem unlikely
the hat had fit over it in the first place.
    She could feel the other man’s eyes upon her,
waiting for her answer, no doubt waiting to see if she would be leaving alone.
And just like that, the decision was made.
    She gave the blond man a dignified but heartfelt
smile. “Yes. I am Darby McClintock.”
    He held out a hand and helped her step from the
train to the stool, to the platform. “Thank you, Mr. Beauregard, is it?”
    He choked. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m Hardy Jacobs, the
driver. I’ve come to take you to the house, so you can revive a bit. Mr.
Beauregard will meet us at the church at four o’clock this afternoon. He’s
sorry he can’t meet you sooner, but he has a court case he has to see to.”
    “A court case? He’s a lawyer?”
    Jacobs squashed his hat over his curls, picked up
her bags, and nodded for her to walk along. “No ma’am. Not anymore. But he
still sits on the bench from time to time when they need him.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
    He grimaced. “My apologies, ma’am. Mr. Beauregard
was a judge before he took the City Commissioner post. When the courts get
backed up, he helps out. Just small matters, mostly.”
    Her husband-to-be was a judge? Had Miss Miller
known? If the woman had only mentioned it, Darby would have never agreed to
come all this way!
    Her mind reeled as she followed Jacobs to a large
closed carriage. He set her bags down to help her climb inside, then set her
bags on the seat opposite her. “Mr. Beauregard is a fine man and a fine judge.
Can spot a bounder from a mile away.” Jacobs stepped back to close the small
door, removed his hat again, and spoke through the open window. “And don’t you
worry, Miss McClintock. He’s as handsome as they come.”
    As the carriage rolled across the bridge over the
Willamette River