“This is Ryleigh. She’s my new bride,” he admitted reluctantly.
She was a plump girl with a friendly face and long dark hair in curls down her front. She had striking eyes, one brown, one green, and she smiled warmly with blushing cheeks.
“Ryleigh? McEevy’s daughter? The farmer?” Father asked, a brow raised, and Lucas nodded.
“Hi,” she said softly, edging closer to my brother.
“Hey, Rye.” I smiled, grateful my brother had chosen one of the girls I didn’t want to stab with my fork at dinner. This one was nice and quiet, keeping her mouth shut and whatever whispers she had out of my ear.
She smiled and nodded once, waiting for approval from my parents.
My mother smiled at her as my father narrowed his eyes on Lucas.
“And this was who you chose? You put her name down?” he asked.
Lucas
