Our Fugitive Bride (Treasure Falls Brides 1)

CHAPTER17

They made the decision not to tell Mary that someone had busted their elevator and poured out their kerosene for their lamps in case it had nothing to do with her. She was already under so much stress, that they didn’t want to add to it. But the mine elevator damage was frightening.

What if his miners had been in there and fallen to their deaths? This son of a bitch needed to be caught and soon.

After they’d learned what was going on at the mine, he and Jesse decided that he could take his accounting books and do his work at the house. He’d packed everything up and ridden home. No need to risk Mary being alone with just the one man they left standing guard.

Besides, already Andrew was thinking of how he couldn’t wait to get between her legs. He’d have to let Jesse have a day at home with her. But this afternoon, it would just be the two of them and already his cock was throbbing at the idea.

As he rode up, he noticed clean clothes hanging on the line. Damn, but it was wonderful to have a wife who took good care of you. When he walked inside the house, the aroma of something delicious wafted through the air.

“Mary,” he called.

She peeked her head out of the upstairs bedroom. “You’re home?”

It was going to be hard to keep the truth from her, but she was worried already and he didn’t want to add to her burden. Mining was a dangerous occupation without someone trying to sabotage the operation.

“Yes, I decided to bring my work home with me,” he told her, knowing it was going to be awfully hard to work while she did her chores with nothing on beneath her dress.

Running down the stairs, she came to him and kissed him hello. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a kiss that had his dick springing to attention.

When their lips broke apart, she gazed at him.

“Would you like some lunch?”

“Yes,” he said, knowing that poor Jesse was back at the mine eating a sandwich Mary had fixed him this morning.

Together they walked into the kitchen and he sat at the table while she dished up bowls of fresh stew for both of them.

“I made this for supper, but we can have some now,” she said. “Tonight I’ll make a big pan of fresh rolls to go with it.”

“You’re going to make me fat,” he said, digging into the fresh, hot meal. The woman knew how to cook and yet he gathered she’d grown up in a wealthy home in Charleston.

She giggled and he loved the sound of her happiness. Since she’d told them about her sister and Frank Thompson, she seemed happier, more carefree. It was like a burden had been lifted from her and he was glad. He also knew she no longer thought of herself as a murderer.

“Have you seen the man we had watch the house?”

“Yes, he’s been walking around. Never came up to the house, but he’s outside keeping guard. I’ve felt safe with him here.”

“Good,” Andrew said.

When they were finished, they both rose from the table and she began to put the dishes in hot sudsy water.

There was no way he was going to be able to concentrate. He walked up behind her and lifted her dress, exposing her long legs and bare ass. The butt plug was peeking out from her little rosebud and he gave it a thunk with his fingers.

There was no question he was going to have her this afternoon. He would take her upstairs and have his way with her, just the two of them.

Dropping her dress, he took her by the hand and pulled her to the sofa where he sat and pulled her into his lap.

A timid smile crossed her face and she leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m so glad we married.”

“Me too,” he told her.

“After the two of you left this morning, I was thinking I don’t know much about your family. I know about Jesse’s because they’re all here in town, but little about yours.”

The wind blew the curtains on the window and the breeze drifted through the house.

“You know my family died in a fire,” he said, not really wanting to talk about it, but knowing she deserved to know.

She gasped. “You mentioned that. I’m so sorry. How old were you?”

“Ten,” he said, the memory of that night still remained an ache in his chest when he thought about the events. “The wood-burning stove caught on fire while we were asleep. My little brother woke me up and we crawled out the front door, or so I thought, but in reality, he had gone into my parents’ bedroom to wake them up.”

He sighed. “I went to their bedroom window and when I broke the window, the fire came rushing out at me. I was the only one who survived. The three of them, along with my grandmother, became trapped when the roof collapsed.”

“Oh my God,” she said. “You watched them burn.”

“Yes,” he said. “I had no other family, and I soon found myself in the Kansas City orphanage until I turned sixteen and then they told me to leave. Time to go.”

Six years of living with other children who had been lost or tragedy had taken their families. Six years of a director who had to scrimp and claw to feed the children. Six years of wondering why me? Why did I survive?

“I’ve missed them every day,” he said. “It’s why I want to marry and have children of my own. It’s why I agreed to share a woman. This way, my children will hopefully never have to experience what I did. Of living in a rundown house, hoping there is enough food for everyone. Of not having anyone who loved them, take care, and watch over them.”

She curled her arms around him as she sat in his lap. “How often did you go hungry?”