Dacey: Bride of North Carolina (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 12) by Shanna Hatfield Page B

forward into her future, whatever it held.
    Regret that Braxton happened to be the one present when her tears spilled all over added haste to her actions as she dressed.
    On quiet feet, she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen where she begged Cook to give her two biscuits spread with a thick layer of apple butter. She planned to sneak outside before the rest of the house awakened. Eventually, she’d have to face Braxton, but she hoped to put it off until dinner.
    With the biscuits in one hand and a tin cup of coffee in the other, she rushed out the back door. She stood on the step as the mere hint of a glorious sunrise began to lighten the sky. The edge of the cup brushed her lip as a warm hand settled on her back, making her squeal and jump, spilling coffee down the front of her skirt.
    “Botheration!” she fumed, turning around to look into Braxton’s smiling face. In the dim light, she could still see humor flickering in his mesmerizing gray eyes.
    He smirked and took the cup from her, offering her a snowy white handkerchief. She handed him her biscuits then wiped her hand and brushed at her skirt.
    “If you planned to scare the dickens out of me, you succeeded, Brax. What in thunderation did you do that for?”
    Braxton smiled, biting into one of the biscuits before replying.
    “I saw you come outside and wanted to make sure you were well after last night.”
    In the cool morning air, the warmth of his breath turned into white, feathery plumes as he spoke. His deep voice did strange things to Dacey’s insides.
    A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with Braxton coursed through her, making her tremble.
    Braxton noticed and assumed she was chilled. He tossed the biscuits to one of the dogs lounging on the porch and took Dacey’s arm in his, pulling her back inside the warmth of the house.
    “Where’s your coat? Why don’t you have on your gloves? Are you trying to take ill?” He peppered her with questions as they walked through the kitchen. He thumped the empty tin cup on a counter as they passed through then urged Dacey up the back stairs to the third floor. “What were you thinking? Do you always run around in the cold without adequate covering?”
    “Just hold your horses, buster.” Dacey stopped partway up the steps and glared at him, fisting her hands on her hips. “I leave my chore coat at the horse barn, my gloves are in my pocket, and if I take ill it’s because you made me soak my skirt with coffee. Since I rarely get sick, I ain’t gonna worry about it. And I planned to eat those biscuits, you know. They had apple butter on them.”
    Braxton held back a smirk as she took two more steps upward until she stood on eye level with him.
    “While you’ve got me riled up, I reckon I better speak my piece.” She drew in a deep breath and continued. “I was heading to the barn early so I wouldn’t have to apologize to you first thing this morning, but it looks like I get to do it anyway. I reckon that’s a good lesson learned, to not put off something unpleasant just because I don’t want to face it.” A long sigh escaped her and she looked to Braxton with an expression of sincere regret. “I’m sorry about last night, Brax. I didn’t mean to cry all over you like some simpering fool. And I appreciate you staying with me until I fell asleep. In addition, I’m sorry for losing my temper a minute ago. You just…”
    “Scared you spitless?” Braxton teased. His index finger traced along the smooth line of her jaw and over the sweet arch of her cheek. “Apology accepted, Dacey, although you shouldn’t be concerned about last night. I think you’ve needed to do that for a while and I’m glad I was there.”
    Frightened by the flames flickering in his eyes as he studied her, she nodded her head in agreement. Before she threw her arms around his neck and discovered how wonderful it would be to kiss his inviting lips, she spun around and raced the rest of the