Undercover Bride Read Online Free PDF Page A

suspicion but, prompted by his father’s stern look, reached for the smallest square. He dropped it on his plate and stared at it with downcast eyes.
    Maggie sent a glance of inquiry to Thomas. “Is there a problem with the bread?”
    “Don’t worry about it. You had no way of knowing.”
    “Knowing what?” she persisted.
    “We can’t eat corn bread,” Elise said, her eyes round as saucers. “It’s poison.”
    “Poison?” Maggie set the plate of bread down and took a piece for herself. Biting into it, she said, “See? It’s perfectly safe.”
A bit dry, perhaps, but tasty.
    Both children stared in round-eyed horror as if they expected her to topple over at any moment. No one else touched the bread, and they finished their meal in silence.
    Later, as she cleared the table, she discovered Toby’s corn bread tucked inside his napkin.

    Thomas surprised her after supper by helping clear the table. A widower for two years, he obviously knew his way around the kitchen.
    While they waited for the water to heat, he leaned his tall form against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her. His presence seemed to fill the room, and she was extremely conscious of his every move.
    “That was a mighty fine meal,” he said, his voice warm with approval. “I didn’t expect you to take over the household chores on your first day here.”
    “I don’t mind.” She turned to the iron cookstove just as a funnel of steam rose from the kettle spout.
    “Let me get that for you,” he said.
    Before she could turn down his offer, he stepped to her side. His elbow brushed against her arm as he easily lifted the kettle off the cast-iron stove and poured the hot water into two basins in the sink. One was for washing, the other for rinsing. Returning the kettle to the stove, he lifted a pail of cold water and poured it into each basin to lower the temperature.
    “Thank you,” she said. Oddly aware of his strength, she reached for the stick tied with strips of linen. She swiped the swab against a bar of hard soap and swished it in the hot water until foamy suds bubbled up.
    He grabbed a clean flour-sack towel from a hook. “I’ll dry,” he said with quiet authority.
    She washed a plate, rinsed it off, and handed it to him. His fingers brushed against hers, and she quickly drew her hand away and plunged it into the warm water.
    They worked for several minutes without speaking. Questions she wanted to ask about his past would have to wait until she’d earned his trust, but she felt safe querying about the children.
    “I’m confused as to why your children think corn bread is poison.”
    The question hung between them a moment before he answered. “I spent a year in the Andersonville prison camp, and all they fed us was corn bread. I’m afraid Elise and Toby have picked up my aversion to it.”
    He’d never mentioned his wartime experiences in his many letters to her, and she couldn’t let on that she already knew about his confinement. Instead, she afforded him a sympathetic look.
    “I’m so sorry.”
    Raw pain glittered in the depth of his eyes. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
    Surprised by a surge of sympathy, she set to work scrubbing a plate clean. She didn’t want to feel anything for him. Certainly not empathy.
    Still, she knew from painful experience that the mere act of putting some things into words was akin to ripping open a wound. That’s why she never talked about her outlaw father.
    At the tender age of twelve, she’d watched him hang from the gallows, and the shame never left her. Tracking down criminals was her way of making up to society for her father’s heinous crimes, and right now, Garrett Thomas was on the top of her list.
    “I would hope that my corn bread tastes better than what they served in prison,” she said, breaking the awkward silence.
    “You’re an excellent cook,” he said.
    Hoping he didn’t think she had been fishing for compliments, she glanced at him sideways. “Is that