A Bride for Adam by Barbara Goss (speld decodable readers .TXT) 📗

At breakfast, his mother pried, asking him questions, but he kept quiet except for the occasional nod. At last he said, “Mother, stop asking questions. I need to figure this all out for myself before I can tell you my plans.”

His father gave her a warning look.

“Do either of you know the gentleman who wants to court Greta?”

“Miles Tanner,” Rhea said.

“You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m sure that’s who she mentioned.” Rhea gave him a worried look. “Do you know him?”

“Wasn’t he the kid who punched Seth and stole his lunch on the way to school?”

Rhea nearly dropped her teacup. “It was a Tanner.”

Sam spoke up. “It was Miles.”

“He’s a bully. I’d bet Greta doesn’t know what he’s really like.”

Rhea patted his arm. “Adam, they were children at the time. Surely, this Miles has grown up since then. He could be a very decent man.”

Adam stood. “Any boy who’d punch a sick kid and steal his lunch couldn’t be decent.” He stormed from the house.

Adam knocked on Greta’s door. Annie opened it.

“Oh, Mr. Sutherland—do come in.”

Adam stepped into the foyer. “I’m here to see Greta and Bethany.”

“Come into the parlor,” Annie said.

Adam set the basket he’d been carrying down by the front door, followed Annie into the parlor, and took a seat.

“I’ll let Mrs. Sutherland know you’re here.” Annie scurried up the stairs.

It seemed like Adam waited for a long time before Greta came down the stairs. Her hair was in a long braid, and she wore a blue, cotton dress with a large lace collar. She helped Bethany down the stairs.

“You wanted to see us?” Greta said when they’d reached the bottom step.

Bethany ran up to Adam and showed him her rag doll. “Dolly,” she said.

Adam asked, “What’s the doll’s name?”

Bethany looked at the doll and then up at Adam. “Dolly.”

“Ah,” Adam said. “Hello, Dolly.”

He watched Greta take a seat across the room from him. “You’re good with children,” she said. “Have you had much experience with them?”

“Just when I visit Levi.”

Bethany tossed the doll into Adam’s lap and crawled up on the sofa beside him. “Dolly wants you to hold her.”

Adam picked up the doll. “She’s a very pretty doll. I bet you take her to bed with you at night.”

Bethany nodded.

Adam looked at Greta. “I wondered if you and Bethany would like to go on a picnic with me today. I was thinking the pond on the other side of the woods.”

Greta’s mouth seemed to be poised to make an excuse.

Bethany jumped up and down on the sofa. “Yeth! Yeth! A pic-a-nic!”

Adam and Greta laughed at Bethany, but then Greta sobered and said, “I wish you’d asked me first. I really don’t think—”

“Dolly wants to come, too,” Bethany said.

Greta sighed. “I guess now I have to say yes. Next time could you ask me first?”

Adam shrugged. “How could I when you both came down together?”

Greta stood. “I’ll let Annie know we won’t be eating lunch at home.”

Chapter Six

Adam saddled their horses.

Greta came out of the house with Bethany and gave him a troubled look.

He mounted his horse and put his arms out to Bethany, who let him lift her onto the horse.

“Bethany’s never ridden on a horse,” Greta said. “Couldn’t we take the buggy?”

“Not through the fields and woods. She’ll be fine. I’ll hold her tight.”

Greta bit her lip. “Please, be careful.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” Adam said.

He gave his horse a gentle nudge and led them through the fields while Bethany said, “Go horsey, go.”

Adam found them a spot near the pond beneath a shade tree. He waited for Greta to dismount, and he handed Bethany to her, slid from his mount, and untied the picnic basket from the back of his horse.

Greta opened the basket, took out the tablecloth, and spread it out on the grass.

Bethany plopped down on it. “I’m hungry.”

Adam tied the horses while Greta removed the food. When Adam joined them, Greta said, “My, you’ve thought of everything.” She opened a cloth napkin filled with sugar cookies painted with frosting faces.

“I wish I could take credit, but Tilde packed the lunch. She knows what her great-granddaughter likes,” Adam said, sitting next to Bethany. “The small sandwich is Bethany’s.”

Greta handed the small sandwich to Bethany.

“Tilde said she likes cheese, but not ham.”

After they’d eaten their sandwiches, Greta gave Bethany one of the colorful cookies. “Your grandmother is spoiling you, Bethany.”

“Which one?”

“Both, I’m afraid.”

“I think it’s important for a child to be loved by someone other than parents. It gives them confidence and a strong self-image.”

“I have to agree. Tilde gave me that and more,” Greta said.

“What happened to your parents that you came to live with Tilde, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Greta leaned back against the tree. “I was born in Pennsylvania. My father was from Fort Worth, but he met my mother during the Civil War. They settled in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, where he worked in the coal mines. Then, on October 4, 1877, a Pickering Valley train fell from a washed-out embankment near Kimberton, Pennsylvania, killing my parents and my brother, James.”

“You weren’t with them?”

“No. They were going to a family reunion, and I’d come down with measles. I had to stay at home with the widow next door.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Greta’s eyes filled with tears, and she jumped up and worked to put the remains of the picnic into the basket. “Yes, it was a horrible time for me, but after being shifted from one relative to the next, Tilde came to bring me to Fort Worth. I was thirteen at the time.” Greta smiled. “Tilde has been and is a wonderful