Flint Hills Bride. Cassandra Austin

was the one she should be thinking of. With Jake gone there was a much better chance of getting food to Anson. He was probably starving.

      The kitchen was empty when she arrived. She hurried to throw together some bread and meat left from the noon meal, knowing Martha could arrive at any moment to begin supper preparations.

      She breathed a sigh of relief when she left the kitchen with the cloth-wrapped lunch tucked under her arm. She donned her cloak and concealed the bundle beneath it. She said a silent prayer that Christian wouldn’t be watching before she opened the back door and stepped outside.

      No one hailed her as she walked past the barn, trying her best to look as if she were going for another of her frequent walks. Still her heart was pounding by the time the barn was safely behind her.

      Anson wasn’t where she had met him that morning. Unwilling to call out for fear her voice would carry, she looked carefully around her. The thought that he had left without her didn’t fill her with as much panic as she knew it should.

      But he hadn’t left. She saw his horse near the stream in the valley below and carefully made her way toward it. Anson slept in the sun a short distance away and woke with a start as she approached.

      “I brought some food,” she gasped before catching her breath.

      “Good girl.”

      He made no move to rise but reached out a hand toward her. She removed the bundle from where she had tied it at her waist and took it to him.