Libbie: Bride of Arizona (American Mail-Order Bride 48) Read Online Free PDF Page B

about a rancher out in Chino Valley who was quite happy with the wife he’d acquired this way.
    Maida’s sigh lasted a couple of seconds. “So, she’s a mail-order bride.”
    Just like his sister to go all dewy-eyed. He guessed mail-order was the appropriate term, but he didn’t like it much. Dell unfolded the telegraph office stationery that by now had well-worn creases. Hoping to make her words flow better, he omitted the ‘stops’ at the end of each sentence.
    “Dear Mr. Stirling, Your ad in the Grooms’ Gazette caught my eye above all the others.”
    He paused and glanced up to see if anyone would comment on that statement. This first line was his very favorite.
    “I, too, have an affinity for animals. In fact, I’ve spent a good portion of my life on my family’s Australian cattle stations.”
    “Australia? I thought you said she’s from Boston.” Skip pointed an accusing finger.
    “I’m reading what the lady in question wrote.” Dell shook the paper. “Let me finish.” Then he glanced down to find his place.
    “I’ve helped with branding, herding, and calving. I sling a mean loop, and my boomerang-throwing skill is proficient.”
    He rested a finger on the foreign word and looked up. “I’m not sure what she means here.”
    “At twenty-one years old, I’m not a stranger to hard work. I enjoy all types of music and feel most at home in natural settings, especially warmer climates. My circumstances have become unsettled, and I will relocate immediately. Miss Libbie Van Eycken.”
    Aware of tightness invading his shoulders, Dell flexed them before lowering the paper to the table and waited.
    “Now, I’ll get the pie and coffee.” Hazel reached for Skip’s plate and stacked it on top of hers as she stood. Her lips pinched tight, and she studied Dell for a long moment before turning away.
    “Mama, I’ll help.” Maida shot to her feet, cleared Dell’s plate, and reached for the bowl of carrots. “No one says another word until we return.” Then she scurried toward the kitchen.
    Good. Dell needed time to think. He knew while the women were absent, none of the men would exchange a single word. As he’d read Libbie’s words aloud, he suddenly realized how very few details she’d included. In his ad, he’d requested an experienced cook and housekeeper, but Libbie mentioned neither of those skills. Nor had she described what about her circumstances had changed. Why hadn’t he noticed these omissions before? Since hers was the only response he’d received, he’d counted himself lucky that she understood a rancher’s life. Maybe he’d been too hasty.
    A buzz of whispered discussion filtering from the kitchen abruptly stopped. Then Hazel walked into the room carrying a tray holding plates, cups, a golden-crusted pie, and a crystal sugar and creamer set.
    Following her, Maida carried the speckled coffeepot, her hands protected with cloth pads. The cups were set on saucers and then arranged in a line at the edge of the table. She filled the cups, set down the pot within reach, and distributed the coffee.
    Dell spotted his sister’s sideways glances and knew she was dying to start in on the questions. As the youngest, she’d have to let the others go first. He waited until everyone had been served. “Ask what you will.” Before the barrage came, he closed his lips around a bite of pie. His mother’s apple pie tasted as good as ever, the sweet-tangy taste laced with spices lingering on his tongue.
    “The telegram is your only correspondence?” William looked over the rim of his steaming coffee cup.
    “Not only, but the first one. My response was to send money through Western Union for transportation and traveling incidentals.”
    Skip’s gaze narrowed. “What’s your recourse if she takes the money and runs?”
    “When did you get so cynical?” Dell glared at his brother, irritation tightening his muscles. “Do her words sound like she’s a young woman only interested in