Tabitha: Bride of Missouri (American Mail-Order Bride 24) Read Online Free PDF

employee is allowed to do.” Tabitha pressed her lips together. She wanted to help him, but she didn’t know if she could get in trouble for it. There were laws to protect the privacy of the mail—did she have the right to know what his letter said? But then, he’d asked for her help—she wasn’t interfering where she wasn’t wanted. She brushed off the thought to go ask Clara for permission. “Yes, all right,” she said after battling it out. “Just let me get some paper.”
    “Thank you.” He smiled and rested his elbows on the counter while he waited. Even the way he leaned was charming, and Tabitha swallowed again.
    Once she had the paper and pen ready, she asked, “What would you like to say?”
His face took on a dreamy look. “‘My dearest Ivy.’” Then he paused. “Is that too forward? Should I use something a little less . . . forward?”
    Tabitha smiled. “How well do you know her?”
    “We’re engaged.”
    At that, her heart fell to the floor. She should have guessed, from the word “dearest,” that this wasn’t a casual acquaintance, but still, it was disappointing. She’d hoped that maybe he was writing to his sister. “If you’re engaged, I imagine you can use whatever terms of endearment you like. What do you call her when you’re together?”
    “That’s the thing. We’re engaged, but we’ve never actually met.”
    Tabitha blinked a few times. “I’m sorry—how is that possible, exactly?”
    He grinned. “I placed an advertisement for a mail-order bride a few months ago, and she answered.”
    Why was everyone in the world suddenly interested in marriage by mail? Tabitha shook her head before she could stop herself.
    “What’s the matter? Don’t you approve of courting through correspondence?”
    “It’s . . . it’s not that,” she answered, trying to find a suitable response. “I just find it ironic—several of my friends recently decided to become mail-order brides.”
    “How recently? I’m not corresponding with one of them, am I? That would be quite the coincidence—but you could tell me all kinds of little secrets about her.” He grinned again, making this all the harder for her. Engaged men should not have such nice teeth. Or dimples.
    “It was about a week ago, and I have no friends named Ivy. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to help you with those secrets.” Helping him with the letter would be hard enough. “All right, I have ‘My dearest Ivy.’ What would you like to say next?”
    He absently knocked on his cast while he thought. “‘You’ve been on my mind quite a bit lately as I’ve watched the schoolchildren here at Atwater scurry off to class, their books tucked under their arms, an apple in their hands for the teacher. The fall leaves are turning even as we speak, creating a landscape of glorious gold and red. I wish you were here to see it with me.’”
    Tabitha had written the first few words, but then her hand stopped as she listened. This man was a storyteller, not at all what she had expected from his rough clothes and casual demeanor.
    “Did I say something wrong? Should I change it?” he asked, and she blinked.
    “Oh, no. In fact, it was quite lovely. I just fell behind. Forgive me.” She quickly wrote out the rest of what he’d said as best as she could remember it, too embarrassed to ask him to repeat himself. “All right. I’m ready for more.”
    “‘I’m sure you’ve noticed the unfamiliar handwriting. I had an accident this morning at the lumber mill, and broke some fingers on my right hand. A nice young lady at the post office is writing this on my behalf.’” He paused again. “I never asked your name.”
    “Tabitha. Tabitha Phillips,” she replied.
    “I’m Thomas Scott. I’d take your hand, but I’m afraid that would be painful. Probably for both of us.” He grinned again, which he really needed to stop doing. “I appreciate your help, Miss Phillips.”
    “I’m glad to be of use. What would you like