Libbie: Bride of Arizona (American Mail-Order Bride 48) (13 page)

“Trust fund?” Dell’s fingers tightened their grip. “You’re rich?”

And that was the second part to Larz’s plan. She took a deep breath and turned to face Dell’s skeptical expression. “I responded to your ad because I’d just learned my parents had been killed in a carriage accident.”

“Libbie, how horrible.” Maida stretched out a hand across the table but couldn’t reach far enough.

Her throat tightened, but she nodded. “The company accounts were frozen, and no more money would be coming soon. The very next day, my aunt died. Then the ostriches arrived, and my cousins didn’t approve so I had to find a new living situation.”

“I wish you had shared that.” Dell released his grip on her hand and slid his arm over her shoulders. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.”

“I should have told you and I’m sorry, Dell. But I didn’t want to talk about my grief. In fact, the friend I met on the train convinced me not to arrive wearing mourning clothes.” She swallowed and forced a smile. “I think things would have been different if I had.”

Dell ran a hand over the crest of her shoulder. “Seems like you could have sold the ostriches and stayed with your Boston family, at least through the first weeks of your mourning.”

She jerked upright and frowned. “I’ve had Koning since I was five years old, and Lady for at least a decade. How could I sell them?”

Skip set down his coffee mug hard. “How long do those birds live?”

“Over forty years.” Deman reached for another cookie.

“They’re the last present I received from my parents, and I couldn’t part with them for the world.” Libbie ran fingers through her hair, tugging on the ends. “I even chopped off more than a foot’s length and sold my hair to pay railroad freight charges for the birds.”

Deman raised an eyebrow. “I wondered what happened there, sis.”

She nudged his arm, then she ran her gaze around the table. “But I’m happy to announce…” She crooked her fingers at Maida and accepted the paper into her waiting hand. “Maida and I created a partnership —Arizona Ostrich Limited—for the purpose of cultivating and selling their feathers.” She learned toward Deman. “I need to get the address of the family lawyer to draft the business papers.”

“Right’o.” He grinned and settled back in his chair.

Murmurs of surprise rippled around the table, but Libbie held up her hand. “Wait. Here is the first payment.” She set the bank draft in front of Dell and watched his expression change from doubting to surprised.

“Fifty dollars! For bird feathers?”

Pride swelled her chest, and she had to grin. “This is reimbursement for only a small shipment. Future payments will be higher when we harvest in warmer weather.”

Dell pulled her close and gave her a swift kiss. “For that money, I’ll gladly put up with whatever is necessary to keep them producing. In fact, I put Jomo in charge of supervising the hands, and they’re building the shelter right now.”

“Oh, Dell, thank you. I’ll feel so much better when they’re safe and warm.”

He pressed his cheek close to hers and whispered, “But that costume is not for any other man to see. I want you wearing it only in the privacy of our home.”

Dell was willing to support her birds? Contentment welled inside her chest. “What if I wear it for you tonight in the privacy of
our
bedroom?” The flare of heat in his gaze was the only answer she needed.

Different from the barren sands of South Africa and the dusty wilds of Australia, Arizona had a beauty she could come to love. More important to her soul was the wonderful man who saw her at her best and at her worst and accepted all the parts that made her “Libbie.” Her throat tightened as she knew in her heart, she’d found her place to belong.

Other historical titles are:

Wandering Home
, #1 in the Dorado, Texas series

Capturing the Marshal’s Heart
,
#1 Escape From Texas series (spicy)

Wishes On A Star
in
Sweetwater Springs Christmas

Dreams of Gold

The Ring That Binds

Lone Star Angel
(sensual)

Learn more about her author life on her website.
www.lindacarroll-bradd.com

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