A Bride for Logan Barbara Goss (best books to read for teens txt) 📖

them.” He turned to Emma. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sinclair.”

Logan escorted her from the office. The attorney followed them and said, “Oh, I think you should know: your sister has been asking about this situation. She asked for a copy of the will, but since you made the deadline, I don’t have to send her anything.”

Logan clamped his lips together, and his complexion reddened.

“You can send her a copy, but tell her I’m married, and that the situation is closed.”

“I will,” Mitchell said. “Oh, by the way—congratulations to you both.”

Emma assumed Logan had a deadline by which to marry, and he’d made it thanks to her.

Several men tipped their hats to her as they walked to the buggy. She smiled at them; Logan frowned.

“Remember: you aren’t a saloon woman, and no one is to know that you were—is that clear?”

Emma didn’t think the question warranted an answer, so she simply nodded. Earlier, when she’d stepped off the stagecoach and saw him in his Sunday best with flowers, she’d thought the marriage might work out, but now she'd changed her mind. She had to get up the nerve to ask him how long this joke of a marriage had to last. She still felt that remaining silent as she watched and listened was the best way to proceed.

Her first view of the ranch nearly took her breath away. The white, multi-gabled house appeared enormous for housing no one but Logan and his late father. The towering, two-story home had a large porch in the front which gave it a spot of warmth. To the right of the house were several large shade trees and to the left, a stable that must have been sixty feet long.

When he brought the buggy to a halt in front of the house, she asked him, “What sort of ranch is this?”

He jumped down from the seat, walked to where she was sitting, and put out a hand to assist her. “It’s a horse ranch. We breed and sell the best horses in Kansas.”

Logan walked her to the double front doors, opened one, and allowed her to proceed him through it. A white brick wall across from the doors brightened the spacious hall, accentuating the grandfather clock there. To the right and left were arches leading to other rooms in the house. It relieved Emma to know she’d be living under a decent, if not luxurious roof.

He led her to the right where an aproned woman met them in what looked like a parlor. Emma thought the middle-aged woman must have been expecting him to arrive with his bride. She was certain the servant didn’t welcome him each time he came home.

“Emma, I want you to meet Irma Belling, our housekeeper.”

Emma smiled and nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Belling.”

“You can call me Irma; everyone does. Welcome to your new home.”

“Show her to the master bedroom, Irma, so she can unpack.”

Emma swung her head around to glare at Logan. Master bedroom? She didn’t want to start an argument with him in front of Irma, so she went along with her up the shiny mahogany staircase.

She thanked Irma and entered the large room overlooking the front lawn of the home. She touched the delicately carved wood on the bed’s headboard. The room also contained a large armoire, two sofa chairs, and two beautiful chests of drawers. Emma walked to the two large windows draped in red velvet which matched the quilt on the bed. The gold carpet in the center of the room gave it a touch of brightness. Emma didn’t unpack her things because she definitely would not be staying in that room with Logan. They needed to talk and soon.

 Emma sat on the window seat and waited. If someone didn’t come for her soon, she’d make her way downstairs to find Logan. After about fifteen minutes, he knocked softly on the door and entered.

Logan glanced at her sack of clothes on the bed. “You haven’t unpacked?”

Emma stood to face him. “I’m not sleeping in this room.”

“Of course, you aren’t.” He walked over to a door she hadn’t noticed and opened it. “This is where you’ll be sleeping, but for appearance’s sake, you’ll need to put your clothes here, in this room, and always enter through the master bedroom.”

Emma walked through the door he’d opened and found herself in a nicely furnished but smaller bedroom.

“Is there a lock on the door?” she asked.

“Certainly. You’ll be safe from me, I can promise you that.”

 “Because I’m a saloon woman?”

“In part, and also because I’ll want to annul the marriage after six months.”

She felt relieved and hurt. His remark had come out sounding cruel.

“That suits me fine,” she said. “Why six months?”

“It's a decent length of time, I figured, to show we tried to make it work but couldn’t.”

“I see. Since you have a housekeeper, what should I do all day here?”

“Enjoy yourself. You can pick out any horse to ride. Irma can get you started on sewing or a project of some kind.”

Something occurred to Emma while he spoke: what was he going to do with her when the six months were up?

Logan continued, “If you really want to occupy your time, I could use help with the account books.”

“I don’t mind at all. I used to do them for my father.”

“Your father?” he asked. “I assumed you didn’t have parents. I didn’t think saloon women had families.”

“Everyone has parents. A train accident killed mine at South Bend, Indiana.”

Logan pointed to the two sofa chairs in the master bedroom. “I think we need to sit and chat. I need to find out more about you in case people ask.”

Emma returned to the master bedroom and sat on one chair while he took the other.

“I’m sorry about your parents.