Her Dearly Unintended Read Online Free PDF Page B

Josiah’s forearm. “Windows don’t just fall apart. Not in my house.”
    â€œStay,” Josiah ordered her. He started forward, then remembered he was barefoot. So did Silas.
    â€œHere’s your boots.” Silas handed a pair through the window,but they weren’t Josiah’s. They were Mr. Watson’s. Josiah eyed them. Too small. He’d be crippled up for weeks if he wore them. Silas’s eyes darted from the boots to Josiah’s overlarge feet.
    â€œThose are mine,” Katie Ellen called. “His are on the other side of the door.”
    A close call, but they’d fooled him so far. Silas retrieved Josiah’s boots, much to his relief. If the man was a killer, at least he wanted his victims to have their feet uncut before they died. He pulled the boots on, no small trick with damp skin and no wool socks, and crunched across the glass to the door. It was locked.
    â€œSorry.” Josiah swung the door open. “Guess I locked it out of habit.”
    Silas’s face wrinkled. “An accident, or were you just looking for some alone time with your wife?” He ambled across the glass and dropped onto the sofa.
    Katie Ellen moaned with concern over her new furniture. “That’s crush plush upholstery. Your coat is wet.”
    â€œHe’s our guest.” Josiah twisted his neck, trying to work the kinks out. The more time the man spent off his feet, the less time he had to practice devilment against them.
    Katie Ellen hurried forward, being sure to bump a shoulder into his arm as she passed. She dropped the dustpan on the ground and, taking the broom, she whisked the shards from the corner. “With the porch cover, we shouldn’t get any rain in, but the bugs will be a problem. Got to get that closed.”
    â€œDo you have any waxed canvas?” Josiah asked.
    She lifted an eyebrow. “Not usually.”
    â€œWe have some,” he said. “I’ll run—” He stopped. Josiah had been about to say home , but choked it down. “I could ask at the cabin down the valley.”
    â€œYou ain’t getting down that bluff,” Silas said. “I’ve done tried.”
    Well, Josiah figured he could do a lot more than the man gave him credit for, but he couldn’t leave Katie Ellen unprotected. “Where’s the hammer?” he asked.
    Now Silas leaned forward. “You have to ask your wife where your tools are?”
    Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. But Katie Ellen smiled. “He complains about my housekeeping, but let me tell you, he’s no help with any of the manly chores. Needlepoint, that’s about all he’s good at.”
    â€œKatie Ellen . . .” Josiah warned.
    â€œIn fact, he stitched that sampler there on the wall.” She pointed at the framed needlework.
    Hilarious. She was just hilarious.
    Silas snorted. “What’s that say, Josiah?”
    â€œIt’s been a while since I stitched it,” he said, but Silas waited for his answer. Seeing no way out, he yanked it off the wall. “Beneath the alphabet it says here, ‘Dear Children, Let Us Not Love in Words or in Tongue, but with Actions and Truth.’” Josiah slid it back on the nail. She wanted to sass him, did she? How far was she willing to go? “Good advice for any marriage, although I much admire loving in words and tongue, too. Don’t you, wife?”
    Her eyes wandered to his mouth, shooting a streak of fire up his spine. She blushed and he let out his breath slowly as if she had no effect on him at all.
    â€œTo tell you the truth,” Silas said. “I haven’t noticed any love betwixt the two of you in word or action. Something’s fishy here.” He shifted on the sofa and kicked his dirty boots up over the curvy decorated arm.
    Pulling her gaze from Josiah, Katie Ellen’s lips pressed together so strong they went white, but she held her tongue.
    If he expected Katie