Outlaw’s Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

Bandit?”
    Patch laughed.
    “What’s so funny?”
    “I had a pet raccoon named Bandit when I was your age.”
    “But you’re a lady!” Leah protested.
    “Thank you, Leah. That’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me.”
    Leah bristled. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”
    Patch was standing by the door to close it after Leah came back in minus the raccoon.
    The belligerent child leaned against the kitchenwall and crossed both arms and ankles. “Now what?” she demanded.
    “Now we clean.”
    Patch set Leah to work putting away anything that had a place. Meanwhile, Patch took the time to stable her horse. Then she used Leah’s room as a place to change into a calico skirt and starched white shirtwaist that were among the clothes she had brought with her in her saddlebags. She wasn’t taking any chances that Ethan might turn up and find her looking like anything less than the perfect lady she had worked so hard to become.
    Patch checked to make sure her bun was neat and covered her golden hair with a kerchief. Then she confiscated one of Nell’s aprons to save wear and tear on her clothes and carefully transferred her mouse, Max, from the pocket of her shirt to the deep pocket on one side of the apron. “I’m afraid there’s one too many calico cats around here to let you go yet,” she murmured as she patted the mouse.
    Patch couldn’t remember the last time she had worked so hard. From the time she was twelve and her stepmother had moved in, the Kendrick home had been a model of order and cleanliness. Patch unconsciously mimicked all the things she had learned over the years from Molly Gallagher Kendrick.
    Instead of sweeping the dust from the floor into the corner, she swept it out the door. Instead of stacking the dirty clothes into a neat heap on the chair, she carted them out back and laid them over the washtub for later attention.
    Leah grumbled.
    Patch praised.
    Leah griped.
    Patch placated.
    Leah groaned.
    Patch played deaf and dumb.
    When the parlor finally sparkled, Leah slumped down on the horsehair sofa. “I thought we’d never get this place clean enough to please you. Who you expecting to come visit, President Grant?”
    “I’m only doing what your mother would do if she were able,” Patch said in a quiet voice.
    Leah’s face scrunched up, and her chin trembled. For a moment Patch thought the girl was going to cry. Patch was learning that Leah felt much more than she wanted anyone to know. The young girl was much more aware—and afraid—that her mother was seriously ill, maybe even dying, than she let on. As quickly as the instant of vulnerability appeared, it was gone. “Yeah, well, we’ll see what Ethan has to say about all this cleaning when he comes home.”
    Which reminded Patch she had dang well better catch Ethan before Leah got to him.
    “No rest for the weary,” Patch said. “We’d better clear a path in the kitchen if we hope to have supper ready when Ethan gets here.”
    “Aw, Ethan won’t expect—”
    “Whether he expects it or not,” Patch said firmly, “supper will be ready and waiting when he gets home.”
    Leah eyed the huge stack of dirty dishes askance. “How you gonna clean up that mess?”“One dish at a time.”
    Patch washed, while Leah dried and put the dishes away.
    “I used to do this with Ma,” Leah said wistfully as she stuffed a towel down into a cup and swished it around.
    “How long has your mother been sick?”
    “Since about a month before Ethan got out of prison.”
    Maybe Ethan hadn’t forgotten his promise to her, Patch mused. Maybe he had only been waiting until his mother was well before he came for her. If so, she had saved him the time and trouble of going to Montana after her.
    “Has a doctor examined your mother?”
    Leah stiffened. “Doc Carter took a look at her.”
    “Did he say what’s wrong with her?” Patch asked.
    “Nothing he can fix,” Leah replied in an agonized voice.
    Patch dropped the subject. It