Bride for Easton


Molly was the first bride to step off the train, and she shifted from one foot to the other while Miss Hazel approached the Mounties. Excitement overpowered self-doubt, leaving her itching to meet her groom. The man she knew in her heart was Easton removed his hat in one elegant motion and held it to his stomach, then kissed Miss Hazel’s hand.

“Oh, you’re quite the charmer,” Miss Hazel said, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Molly! Molly Hennessy!”

Yes! She’d been right.

Shaking her red hair back, Molly squared her shoulders and strode forward. She found it hard to stop grinning like an idiot, then decided it didn’t matter. If he didn’t like a woman who smiled, the man was going to have a very hard life.

Grabbing his hand in a firm handshake, she said, “Hi! I’m Molly Hennessy. You must be Easton Cooper. Nice to meet you!”

Easton blinked, like he was taken aback by something, though she couldn’t imagine what. Then that stern facade dropped across his eyes again, and he pulled her hand to his lips.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Hennessy,” he said, just before his lips grazed the back of her hand.

A firestorm started at the point of contact and swept up Molly’s arm, straight to her cheeks. Being fair-skinned, she always had blushed easily, but this felt so much hotter than even her worst blush. Worse yet, she liked it. A lot.

Without another word, Easton took her bag, then wrapped her blazing hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the steps. Pausing at each, he made sure she didn’t trip or stumble, then marched off into the crowd bustling around them.

Molly had never been left speechless in her life, but she’d never met anyone like Easton before either. Of course, she hadn’t had much of a chance to at the convent. She dared to peek up at him as they strode toward a small church just down the street from the train station, no doubt where they would marry. He stood no less than a foot taller than her, and his muscular frame spoke of long hours of hard work. His black hair had been cropped short, and his tanned neck hinted that he never let it grow much longer. The sun shimmering in his deep blue eyes reminded her of a summer afternoon at a cold, deep lake.

‘Handsome’ didn’t adequately describe Easton, but it was the best her befuddled brain could come up with. And on top of that, he was chivalrous. Once again, she shot up a prayer of thanks, and wondered what she’d done to deserve such good luck.