An Angel in the Mail (Oregon Trail 2) - Page 36

“I’m so pleased to meet you, dear.” She gave Angel a hug, and then held her at arm’s length. “You must make time to come for tea one day.”

“That would be nice, but the children . . .”

Mrs. Penrose waved her hand. “No matter, bring the little ones with you. I have seven grandchildren I never see. I’m dying to bake cookies for someone besides the doctor and me.” She pointed to her round stomach. “We certainly don’t need them.” Her laugh was melodious, and Angel liked her immediately.

Dr. Penrose stood as they entered his office, rubbing his spectacles with a handkerchief. Stacks of books and papers filled the room. Angel glanced at the two chairs, also loaded down. It would be a challenge to find anything here.

“Come on in to my examining room.” He motioned to the

doorway behind his desk. “How have you been feeling?”

Angel and Nate followed him into a small room with an examining table, and jars and bottles lining the walls. A stack of clean cloths sat on a counter, along with a container of bandages. The room was much more orderly than the office, making her wonder if his wife took care of this part of the office.

“I feel a lot better, thank you. I’m still a little sore when I move too suddenly, but otherwise I’m okay.”

“You haven’t been doing too much, have you?” The doctor studied her as he unwrapped her bindings. No stripping down this time, though. He opened her dress, and reached around to complete the task.

“No, the boys have been helping a lot.” Angel re-buttoned her bodice as the doctor laid the wrappings aside.

The doctor poked and prodded, glancing over the top of his spectacles at Angel’s reactions. “Well, Mrs. Hale, I declare you fit. Just continue to take it a little easy for a while, but otherwise, you can resume normal activities.”

They said their goodbyes to Mrs. Penrose, with Angel promising to bring the children for a visit. A short time later they were back in the buggy. Arms bent at the elbows, Angel swung from side to side, relishing the freedom with no bindings. Heat rose in her cheeks when Nate’s eyes shifted to her breasts, loose for the first time in over a week.

She grabbed the bench with one hand, and her hat with the other as he slapped the horse, and the buggy sped up. Her husband’s lips were set in a grim line, and sweat beaded his forehead.

Well, I wonder what I did wrong this time?

Nate parked the buggy in front of the hotel, and they entered the dining room. With Nate’s hand pressed firmly to her lower back, he steered her past several people he acknowledged, stopping every once in a while to introduce her. Each time she met someone new, she felt more welcome.

The smell from roast beef, mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and biscuits on most diners’ plates made her stomach growl. It was so good to eat a meal she hadn’t struggled over. She’d never appreciated all the years everything had been done for her. Still, she experienced a certain amount of satisfaction in doing things for herself. She grinned. And her family.

Less than an hour later, the only thing keeping her from enjoying her dessert of dried apple pie and coffee, was the way Nate kept drumming his fingers on the table. He seemed terribly jumpy.

“Everything all right?” Angel asked, her hand covering the strong fingers that tapped relentlessly on the table.

“Just fine.” He flashed a quick smile, and taking a final gulp of his coffee, slid his chair back. “Are you ready?”

Angel nodded as she wiped her mouth with the napkin. Before she could place it on the table, he jumped up, pulled her chair out so fast he almost dumped her on the floor. As they left the dining room, Nate put his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the front desk in the hotel area.

A small, dark haired man stood behind the desk, leaning over a spread-out newspaper. He glanced up as they approached. “Hey, Nate, long time no see. How’s the family?”

“Great.” He barely got the word out before he continued. “Ernest, my wife is feeling poorly. Headache, you know. I wonder if we could have a room for a couple hours so she can rest away from the noise of the children?”

Her head whipped around as she turned in surprise to listen to Nate tell this bold-faced lie. What was he up to?

The man smiled and extended his hand. “I heard you got married. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Nate nodded. “The key?”

“Oh, sure thing, Nate. I imagine things are a little noisy out at your place. We usually have an open room in the afternoon.” He nodded at them both. “Room Twelve,” he added as he handed them a key, and went back to his reading.

Nate brought his finger to his lips when she started to ask a question, and hurried her upstairs to room twelve. He unlocked the door, hustled her through, and turned the lock.

“What in heaven’s name was that all about?”

He turned her and cupped her face in his hands, and leaned down to cover her mouth with his. After a few moments, he pulled away, and removed her hat. “Lord, woman, I had to get you away from that house before another interruption.”

Angel’s body flushed when she realized what he meant. Her heart sped up as she put her arms around his waist and leaned into him. Feeling her response, he kissed her once more, tilting her head. He ran his tongue over her closed lips, and she opened. He forged ahead, touching, tasting. Shyly, she parried with him, using her tongue as he had. He groaned, and moved his hand to cup her breast, kneading the flesh, sending jolts to her middle.

Tags: Callie Hutton Oregon Trail Historical
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