His Chosen Bride. Rhonda Gibson

simply been trying to take the attention off himself and she had been the most convenient person in the room to direct it to. “Yes.”

      She bobbed her head once. “Then thank you for that.”

      Levi took the dishes as she passed them to him. When they finished, they had a nice stack piled on the sideboard and he felt a sense of accomplishment. How many Sundays had Beth come home to dirty dishes? Too many. He decided to change the way things were done on Sundays, and he had Millie to thank for that.

      Millie kept quiet as they worked. Was she still angry with him? Levi decided to find out. “As soon as I toss out this water and put away the dishes, how would you like to sit with me on the front porch while we wait for the others?”

      Her pretty blue eyes searched his. He could see questions within their depths and couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. She pushed a stray curl off her forehead and nodded. “All right. I’ll even help you put the food away, but when we get out there, I have a few questions for you, Mr. Westland.”

      She scooped up two platters and headed toward the kitchen. Dread filled Levi. She’d called him Mr. Westland in the same tone that his mother used when she said his full name. What new questions did she have for him now? Dread crept up his spine and into his hairline.

      Chapter Five

      Millie hurried as she put away the leftover food. She was tired of playing games with Levi Westland. He’d mentioned again his interest in marrying her. She needed to nip that line of thinking in the bud. He had no business even considering her as a future wife.

      When the kitchen was straightened and all the food had been stored, Levi asked, “Ready?” He rolled his white sleeves back down.

      Her gaze ran over the cleared buffet. “I believe so.” She led the way out to the front porch.

      Levi held the door open for her. Again, Millie inhaled the sweet scent of fresh-cut wood. One of the reasons she’d answered Levi’s mail-order bride letters was because he’d written that he was a carpenter and enjoyed working with wood. Millie grinned at her own silliness, just because her father worked in a sawmill and worked in wood, she’d thought at the time her husband should, too.

      He indicated for her to sit on the new hanging swing. Had he put it up this morning? She didn’t recall it being there yesterday. It swayed slightly as he sat also.

      “Is this new?” Millie asked, feeling the smoothness of the arm of the swing.

      His green eyes sparkled with pride. “It is. I’m hoping that our neighbors will see it and want one. Do you like it?”

      Millie nodded. “It’s very comfortable.” She sat back and enjoyed the gentle rocking motion.

      After several moments of comfortable silence, Levi cleared his throat. “I understand you have some questions for me? The others will be out soon.” He gently reminded her.

      She turned on the seat so that she could look him in the eyes. “I do. Why do you keep insinuating you’d like to marry me when you know perfectly well I’ve changed my mind about marriage?”

      He chuckled and cleared his throat. “Last night, I was teasing you. This morning, well, I’ll be honest, I was in an embarrassing position and wanted to get the attention off me with a little playful banter with you. It worked, too. Mrs. Englebright left the dining area without any more talk about mail-order brides.” He beamed a dimple-filled smile at her.

      Frustration filled her. “Yes, she did, but did it ever occur to you that she might have taken you seriously and even now is plotting some form of matchmaking?”

      He stared back at her with a blank expression.

      Millie felt lost in the sea of green that was his eyes. They flashed with specks of yellow and hints of little-boy mischief and grown-man joy. Levi always seemed to be smiling or at least his eyes were.

      She shook her head and turned her gaze from his. Eyes didn’t smile. What was wrong with her? If she didn’t watch it, next thing she knew she’d be fantasizing about his mouth and finding different meanings for his words. Like some silly girl whose head was full of romantic nonsense.

      “No, but would that be so bad?”

      She quickly cut her gaze back to him in disbelief. Was the man deaf? Hadn’t she just told him she didn’t want to get married?

      He held up both hands in a show of surrender. “I’m not saying we have to get married. As long as Ma and everyone else assume we’re courting, they won’t be after me to choose one of the other brides.” Levi tilted his head as if saying, Think about it.

      Millie stared at him. Did she understand him correctly? He wanted everyone to believe they were courting just so he wouldn’t have to deal with his mother and the other brides. Was that fair to the prospective brides? Was it fair to his mother? Could she seriously go along with his plan?

      Levi turned on the bench and faced forward. “I’m not ready to get married, either, Millie. But I feel like I’m being forced to make decisions for my future that I don’t feel comfortable with. All I’m asking is that we be friends. If others read more than friendship into that, that is their business. I need time to figure out which bride I’m going to marry.” His voice sounded tired. She recognized the cause. She’d lived with it all her life: the inability to chart your own course in life because of an overbearing parent. She considered the pros and cons of his suggestion.

      Being friends with Levi would be nice, and she could move around freely in the town under the umbrella of his protection. The bad part was, his mother seemed to be even more assertive than hers and Millie would have to endure even more contact with her. But who better than herself to deal with an aggressive mother, since she had vast years of experience?