“Is it going to be a full-time job just keeping you fed, Douglas?”
“Oh, call me Doug. And yes, it probably will be a full-time job. I love to eat.” He stopped the wagon in front of a two-story white house with a beautiful wrap around porch on the front. She couldn’t wait to sit on that porch and rock, but she didn’t see a rocker. She’d have to talk to him about that as soon as she got a chance. “I’ll want to eat at six, noon, and six. And if you feel like it, you could always send me with extra food for my saddle bags. I promise, I will not leave it to go bad.”
“I can easily cook those meals for you, and I will try to start a kitchen garden. As long as you don’t need fresh bread every single day, it should be easily manageable.” Day old bread was just fine in her opinion, but she didn’t know if he would care if it wasn’t as fresh as bread baked that day.
“On the days you make bread, you’ll make enough for the next day as well, right?” he asked, looking concerned.
“Yes, of course. You’re not going to go hungry as long as there is food for me to cook.” She wasn’t sure how often she’d have to reassure him about that, but she had a feeling it would take as much of her time as cooking for him did.
He helped her down from the wagon. “I’ll bring everything inside while you look around. And then, while you cook, I’ll gather eggs and milk the cow.” He rubbed his stomach. “I can already taste it!”
“You don’t even know what I’m making!” she protested.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “As long as it’s food, I’ll be a very happy man.”
She shook her head and went into the house. The front door opened into a main room, which had a table and chairs. Off to the left, she saw a small parlor with a sofa and some overstuffed chairs. She walked straight ahead and found the kitchen. For a man who couldn’t cook anything, his kitchen was a cook’s dream. There was a water pump, right there in the kitchen, and he had a nice stove. In fact, it seemed to be the same kind she’d used at the restaurant.
There was even a nice big ice box. Just perfect for keeping leftovers—if she ever had any—and meats. She couldn’t wait to start cooking.
Rolling up her sleeves, she wished she had her trunk, so she could put an apron on, but she was ready to change anyway. She was making herself a new dress, and it was almost done. Tomorrow she’d have to make bread and start on the kitchen garden. Then the next day would be laundry.
“I put your trunk in my bedroom,” he said when he brought her the eggs. “Up the stairs to your right.”
“Do you not have a spare room for me to sleep in for the next couple of weeks?” she asked, frowning at him. “You only want me here for making meals, remember?”
Doug caught her hand and pulled her to him. “I remember that I was stupid. I think I need a real wife. One who will take care of all of my comforts and not just my food.”
“Well, you’ll have to stop calling me Meals then.”
“I might need to do that.” He kissed her quickly. “I’m going to go milk the cow. Whatever you’re making, hurry!”
Trudie couldn’t believe the man. He acted like her teenage brothers, not like a man who was used to fending for himself when it came to meals.
She dug through the box of groceries and found what she needed, quickly heating up the frying pan. Tonight, she would make a simple meal of pancakes and bacon, and he’d like it. Whether he liked it or not, he needed to at least pretend he did. Never in her life had she had a man talk quite so much about food to her. He must be an exceptionally hungry man.
She mixed up the pancake batter while the bacon fried, and when he came back in with milk, he sighed contentedly. “I smell bacon in my kitchen. Bacon!”
“Yes, you do. Now go and wash your hands, and I’ll have supper ready in a few minutes.”
“I want to watch you cook,” he said softly.
She shook her head adamantly. “No, you can go do something constructive while I see to your meal.” From what she could see he’d kept a relatively clean house, and she was pleased. Yes, there would be a big spring cleaning in her future, but she wouldn’t have to spend a lot of time getting rid of the dust first.
“Fine. But I’m going to watch you cook. Soon.”
How the man had managed to make watching her cook sound like something sordid, she wasn’t sure, but he had. He was truly a man who loved food. There was no doubt about that in her mind.
Chapter 3
Doug hadn’t eaten two bites of his supper before he turned to Trudie. “Will you marry me and cook for me all of my days?” His hand was over his heart, and he looked extremely earnest.
“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about missing out on a marriage proposal by being a mail order bride, do I? I’ll probably get one three meals a day for the rest of my life.”
“You definitely will. These pancakes are fluffier than any I’ve ever eaten. How did you make them so perfect?”
“I could show
