The Barefoot Bride by Joan Johnston Page A

Molly set her down.
    Within moments, the hotel parlor was bustling with people. The manager appeared with the items Molly had requested, andEthan delivered Seth's medical bag. Once Seth saw the bag, he seemed to wake from his shocked stupor. He checked Patch's eyes and realized that although she might have a slight concussion, it wasn't serious. Ethan knelt beside the settee, his hand gently brushing Patch's tousled hair away from her forehead in concern.
    Meanwhile, Molly put the damp cloth to work cleaning the worst of the blood off Whit's face and fingers.
    Seth waved some hartshorn under his daughter's nose, and the ammonia smell brought her coughing and sputtering to life. Patch's first words, once she was fully conscious, were “I want to go home, Pa.”
    “That sounds like a good idea,” Ethan said to Seth. “Unless you get started soon, it's going to be dark before you get there. I'll ride ahead and make sure there's a fire in the stove and some hot coffee waiting for you,” he offered.
    Molly met Seth's eyes across the room, and she nodded her agreement.
    “I appreciate your offer, Ethan,” Seth said. “We'll be leaving as soon as I can get the Gallaghers’ trunks loaded on the buggy.”
    “I'll give you a hand,” Ethan said.
    Once the two men had left the room, a palldescended. Molly had no intention of stirring up dust that had barely settled. She took advantage of the peace and quiet to rinse her muddy feet in what was left of the bowl of water.
    Mrs. Adams stared bemused for a moment before asking, “My dear, is there some reason you came barefoot to your own wedding?”
    Molly wasn't about to tell her the truth, so she made up a tale. “Oh, it's an old Irish custom, Mrs. Adams.”
    “It is?”
    “We always start our marriages the way we intend to go on.”
    “I don't understand,” the preacher's wife said.
    Molly leaned over and gestured Mrs. Adams closer so she could whisper in her ear, “Barefoot and pregnant.”
    Mrs. Adams gasped and drew back from Molly as though she were contagious.
    “Of course, I'm not in the family way,” Molly explained, finding it hard to keep a straight face. “But with Seth being such a virile man, I'm sure it won't be long before I am.”
    Flustered beyond words, Mrs. Adams excused herself and left the room.
    Molly looked up at Him and asked for forgiveness. Then she used the peace and quiet to open the package Ethan had given her. She smiled with delight when she discovered that besides shoes—a delicate pair of kid boots with patent leather tops—he had also purchased white stockings. And he hadn't lied. Both shoes and stockings were a perfect fit.
    Ethan Hawk was obviously a man who knew a lot about women. He had made her feel perfectly at ease from the first moment she had met him. She wasn't a tenth so comfortable with the man she had just married. Whenever she got near Seth, she felt a strange tension, a feeling of expectation, of excitation, that she couldn't explain. Molly hoped that as she and Seth got to know each other, these inexplicable feelings of agitation would ease.
    Molly ushered the three children outside, where Seth and Ethan were just finishing.
    “There's plenty of room for everyone in the buggy,” Seth said. “You might have to sit close.”
    Patch scowled at Whit, and he frowned back.
    Seth didn't miss the exchange and said, “I don't want to see any more fighting between the two of you. If you've got differences, finda way to settle them peaceably, or I'll settle them for you. Do you both understand me?”
    “Yes, Pa,” Patch muttered.
    “You're not my father,” Whit said. “And I don't have to do what you say!”
    Rather than say anything, Seth simply walked away to make sure the buggy was hitched up properly. Seth knew he couldn't win that kind of argument. So he refused to engage in it. He fiddled with the harness until he was ready once again to face his new fam-
    iiy.
    But he found it hard to believe the situation in