Julia: Bride of New York (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 11) by Callie Hutton Page A

found ourselves out of work, we decided to move from Lawrence and start new lives in other places.”
    “How brave of you to come to a new, strange town. Have you no family you could have gone to?”
    Julia pulled a lace handkerchief from her reticule and patted the sweat on her forehead at the woman’s inquisition. All eyes were riveted on her, and she was beginning to feel as though she was the afternoon entertainment.
    “Mother, I think we should leave off the questions because it appears the ladies are calling everyone to come and eat.” The pastor stood and helped Julia up.
    Thankful for the reprieve, she took a deep breath and turned to wave goodbye to the choir members and crashed into a solid object. “Oomph.”
    Fletcher grabbed both of her arms to keep her from falling backward. “Sorry.”
    “Miss Benson, are you all right?” The pastor looked at her with concern and cast Fletcher a questioning glance.
    “I’m sorry, Pastor. I just wanted to remind Miss Benson that I had the café prepare her favorite fried chicken, which I brought with me.”
    Julia smirked. “Fried chicken is your favorite, Sheriff.”
    “And yours, too.” He glared at her.
    The pastor cleared his throat. “Shall we move along?”
    Julia took his extended arm. “Certainly.”
    The rest of the afternoon passed in a similar manner. Every time she turned around, Fletcher was glaring at whatever man she was speaking with. And, goodness, there were certainly a lot of single men in Wickerton. She’d never had so much male attention in her life. She was rather enjoying it, but more enjoyable was Fletcher’s obvious annoyance with the attention.
    Could it possibly be that he did have feelings more than just liking for her? That he wanted her for a wife for reasons other than a caretaker? She didn’t believe that. Although his last proposal was certainly better than the others, he still never mentioned that he cared for her. Really cared. The kind of feeling that could turn into love. His reasons had been that they liked each other, would suit, and he wanted to bring his daughter home.
    No. She’d done the right thing. She would just have to set her sights on supporting herself until she met a man who could love her as she deserved to be loved.
    She looked up from where she sat chatting with a Mr. Nelson, who owned the livery, to see Fletcher once more barreling down toward her. For once she wasn’t sorry to see him approaching her. The livery owner was a nice gentleman but had spent the entire time talking about his four dogs that he called his “children.”
    “It’s getting late, and I need to make my rounds. Are you ready to leave?”
    Mr. Nelson was forced to stop talking, giving Julia’s ears a much needed rest. “I will be happy to escort Miss Benson home, Sheriff, if you have duties to attend to.”
    Julia hopped up and brushed off her dress. “That’s all right, Mr. Nelson. I find I’m a bit tired and ready to depart.”
    He scrambled to his feet and tugged on his bow tie. “May I call on you sometime, Miss Benson?”
    “She’s busy,” Fletcher growled.
    Julia and Mr. Nelson both stared at him.
    “Are you ready, Miss Benson?” Fletcher held out his arm.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Nelson, I really must go. It’s been a pleasure.” Fletcher whisked her away before the man could repeat his question.
    “Slow down, or you’ll soon be dragging my body across the lawn.”
    Fletcher came to an abrupt stop and again had to grasp her arms to keep her from falling. “Sorry.”
    Julia wrenched herself free and brushed her skirts. “What in heaven’s name is the matter with you today?”
    “Nothing. I just want to get my rounds done.”
    “I could have ridden home with Mr. Nelson.”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “I don’t trust him.”
    “What? He seems like a lovely man.”
    Fletcher snorted as they reached his carriage, and he turned to lift Julia in. “You don’t know.”
    “So tell me,” she said as he strode