“Did you help your mother with gardens in the summers?” He liked the picture in his head of a little girl following along behind her mother and dropping seeds into holes.
“Of course. It’s part of being a good farm girl. Ma would section off her kitchen garden and there would be contests to see who could grow the biggest vegetables. Usually worked for about a month before we started to paint the cows and roll around in the dirt fighting each other.”
“Paint the cows?” Doug was getting a little more worried about her by the minute.
“Sure. Our cow must have been painted four times. I never painted her but several of my siblings did. It was cause for celebration when she was brown for a whole summer.”
“You do realize that’s strange, don’t you? We never did things like that at the orphanage. We were all well-behaved.” Of course, being well-behaved was enforced with a razer strap to the backside.
Trudie shrugged. “Strange for some people. Normal for my family. So, you see, it was expected that I behave that way, and I’m one who always lives up to expectations.”
“I’m not even sure what to say to that.” Doug took a bite of the food and let the flavors wash over his tongue. “But I don’t care, because you are the best cook in all of Colorado.”
“Not all of the United States? Because you did say you were the hungriest man in all the country.”
He grinned at her. “You read my letter!” It made him feel good to know she remembered the things he’d asked for when he’d first sent for a bride.
“Of course, I read your letter, you daft man. Why would I be here otherwise? Did you think I was just going to show up on any man’s doorstep and offer to cook for him in exchange for marriage?” She shook her head at him. “I worry about you sometimes, Doug.”
“You probably should,” he said with a shrug.
“I need to write some letters after supper,” she told him. “I made a couple of friends on the train, and I have to write to my mother, my sister, and a former co-worker.”
“Do you plan to write all those letters tonight?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll do a couple per night until I’m finished, and then I’ll start sewing curtains and a tablecloth. Do you have a preference which I do first?” She hadn’t given him a choice when she’d picked out the fabric for them, but she could give him a choice of what he wanted her to make first.
“Not at all. I care if you cook and nothing else.”
She sighed. “Is there anything you don’t like? That I should avoid making?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I’ll eat anything anyone puts on the table in front of me. Except when I cook. I do have some standards.”
She wondered for a moment why he hadn’t just taught himself to cook, but dismissed the idea. “All right. I’ll make food every night.” As she finished eating, she carried her plate to the sink and poured the hot water in. “Are you finished?”
He gave her a look of alarm. “No! I’ll need to eat lots more!”
Trudie shook her head. “Let me know when you’re finished so I can take care of the dishes then.” The way he acted made it seem like he hadn’t eaten in years. She knew he’d had good meals at least once a week at the potluck. Why hadn’t he eaten with his ranch hands? Certainly someone must have been able to cook.
“I’ll try.” Doug refilled his plate twice more, finally leaning back in his chair and patting his belly. “I think I’m done.” He wanted to add, “for now,” but he had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that. “What’s for breakfast in the morning?”
“I thought I’d make French toast with some sausage.” It was odd how she had to think ahead to every meal for him. He seemed to have a need to know what his next meal would always be.
“Sounds wonderful. You can cook anything you want, and I’ll eat it happily.”
“I’m getting that impression. Do you have something that’s a favorite for breakfast?” she asked.
“I’m a fan of eggs, bacon, and toast. And pancakes. And French toast. And I really like omelets. And oatmeal on cold days.”
Trudie cleaned off the table and quickly washed the rest of the dishes. He’d managed to eat everything on the table except half a loaf of bread. She wasn’t exactly sure where he put it all, but it was gone. “I’ll just make whatever I’m hungry for, and I’ll assume you’ll like it.”
“That’s a good plan.” He watched her as she finished the dishes and then wiped them dry. “What all did you do today?” He kept having flashes of her when she’d stood up from the bath tub that morning, and he wanted to drag her off to bed, but he knew she wasn’t ready yet.
“I planted, baked bread, made three meals, took a bath, and did some general cleaning. I think I’m going to wait on laundry until I’m finished with the planting, because I’ve never figured out how to work in the garden without being covered with dirt when I’m finished.” Her ma had been able to work outside and stay clean. Well, when her children hadn’t been throwing tomatoes at one another.
Doug nodded. “Sounds like a good plan to me. I’m not in any kind of hurry for you to wash.”
“Good, I’ll wait then.” Trudie took the paper, pen, and inkwell she had set on the counter earlier and sat at the table to write. “I’m going to write a couple of letters now.”
He nodded, not moving. Instead, he sat at the table and watched her write her letters. Trudie had enough brothers that she wasn’t even bothered. They would watch her do whatever
