Mail Order Meals - Kirsten Osbourne Page 0,14

all those things?” he asked.

“Oh, it was expected.” She smiled sweetly. “Would you like to pray for us?”

“Uh, sure.” The look he gave her thrilled her. He knew now she wasn’t some mild little housewife. She had a spirit, and she was good with weapons. Perfect. Now he knew what to expect a little better. He’d seen the sass, but this was way beyond having a sassy wife.

After the prayer, he looked at her questioningly. “Why was it expected?” he asked.

“I was raised a Miller, and in my town, that means being a hellion. The whole town referred to us as the demon horde. That’s why I couldn’t find a husband back east. Didn’t you wonder why you got a wife who wasn’t old, ugly, or fat, who could cook in a way that made you want to sing?”

“Well, yeah, but...”

She grinned. “Just know that how you treat me is how I will treat you. Plain and simple. You want good meals and a sweet wife? She’s easy to get. You want burned food while you watch her eat a perfect meal? You can have her too.”

“Umm...Can you just keep being the wife you’ve been so far?” Doug was almost nervous that he would bring out the person she was describing to him. He wasn’t the easiest person in the world to live with.

“If you can keep being a good husband, I certainly can. Just remember. What you give is what you get from me. Pass the bread, please.”

He handed her the bread, realizing only then that the food was getting cold on his plate. “I will do my best to be on good behavior.”

“I got a lot planted today,” she said, acting as if she’d never threatened him. “I had lots of seeds from my mother’s garden in my trunk, and it was fun to make little rows with them. I can’t wait to get out there and weed the garden and really get my hands dirty.”

“I didn’t think women liked to dirty their hands that way?” He was realizing quickly that everything he’d expected of a wife was very different than what he’d gotten. This woman...well, she was a bit awe-inspiring.

“I don’t mind a bit. As I said, I was a farmer’s daughter.” She poured gravy on her potatoes and ate a big bite. “Tomorrow I’m going to plant a few other crops, and then I’ll be done for the season. We can buy canned goods in town, but I prefer to can my own when I have the time. I had to cook with canned goods in the diner, and it was never quite as good as it was from my own garden.”

“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