The Bride Backfire Read Online Free PDF Page A

places.
    Ah well. Polite young ladies don’t raise their voices anyway. A rueful grin crossed her lips at the idea that Aunt Doreen’s and Clara’s tutelage might be rubbing off on her. Midge bore no intention of acting a stick-in-the-mud at the age of fifteen, no matter how she wanted to please the makeshift family she’d come to love.
    Polite young ladies don’t snoop, either, she reminded herself as she slowed her pace, sidling up on the smithy. But in Midge’s experience, informed women kept their eyes and ears open. She wasted no breath on gossiping, but knowing ... now that was a different story.
    Saul said knowledge made the difference between helping and hindering, and Midge didn’t respect anyone’s opinion more than that of the doctor who’d saved her life just over two years before. As a matter of fact, she reckoned that God, if He existed like everyone in Buttonwood insisted He did, would understand Midge’s constant status as lookout. After all, God could see and hear everything.
    Not being so fortunate as that, Midge resorted to lingering in doorways when the need presented itself. Like when a friend who never stepped foot in the smithy marched in, wearing her favorite dress, the day after she met with Clara. Oh, it didn’t take much to weasel things out of Clara, who’d confessed to watching Brett Burn’s growing interest in Opal.
    As though Midge hadn’t noticed that ages ago. The one who bore watching, to her way of thinking, was that shifty Larry Grogan.
    Casually peering around the doorframe into the smithy, Midge spotted her friend’s yellow dress, brightened by the forge’s firelight, and squinted to get a better look. Sure as a sharpshooter never missed and told, Opal stood in deep conversation with Brett Burn.
    Oh, she brandished a battered metal something-or-other, but if Clara’s chat with Opal yesterday hadn’t prompted this visit, Lucinda Grogan took tea with the Queen of England every Thursday. This trip to the smithy didn’t fall under the category of business, no matter if it involved some careful calculation.
    Midge eased back, unwilling to be caught spying when there would be at least two other Burns around the place. Yet she lingered when she should’ve left—a sense she’d missed something making her glance back into the smithy.
    This time, she ran her gaze over every nook and cranny until it caught on a subtle movement in the stable annex. There. That’s what I missed before. Her smile came back full force as she took in the entire scene a second time, with the missing piece in place. Midge recognized the figure as Adam Grogan, and she followed his sightline to find out what he was gaping at.
    Her eyes widened. Oh, now that’s interesting!
    ***
    â€œBen!” Opal rushed down the church steps that Sunday, Pete and Elroy hard on her heels to greet their eldest brother. She pulled to a halt with the help of a big hug. “You’re early!”
    â€œGood to see you, sis.” He tucked her to his side and pulled their brothers close. “You, too, Elroy.” Ben made a show of tilting his head, over-long carroty curls spilling from under his hat as he peered at the youngest Speck. “This can’t be little Pete?”
    â€œNot so little anymore.” Pete puffed up in protest, gaze sliding toward where Midge stood several yards away.
    â€œI can see that.”
    â€œFour years makes a difference, son.” Pa came up to them all with a smile broader than the sky above. “Glad to have you back home.”
    â€œEspecially now.” The lowered tone didn’t stop Pete’s whisper from carrying as more than one Speck cast a quick glance toward the Grogans.
    Or rather, where Larry and Willa stood. Opal didn’t spot Lucinda or Adam nearby. Still, their fleeting looks constituted enough of a cue for Ben to follow suit.
    He peered over, a frown darkening his face