Mail Order Meals - Kirsten Osbourne Page 0,7

later, and Doug was told to kiss his wife. He’d been waiting for those words. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, trying to brand her as his own. The other men in town had better not even look at her, because she was his from that day forward.

As they left the parsonage, Doug frowned. “Are you going to have time to make supper tonight?”

Trudie wanted to roll her eyes, but it seemed a rather juvenile response. “I’ll have time if you’re okay with something simple. I could make crepes or pancakes or even eggs and bacon.”

“I’ll have pancakes.” He rubbed his stomach in anticipation. “Make about double what you think I’d eat,” he said.

“As long as you stop and get my trunk first,” Trudie responded. There was something about the man that made her want to kiss him and kick him all at once. She wasn’t certain what the appropriate response was, so she did neither.

At the train station, her trunk was in the middle of the platform, and the ticket taker was eating at his post. “Thank you for watching my trunk for me,” she said. She tried very hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

The man shrugged. “I didn’t really pay any attention to it. I was busy.”

Trudie watched as her new husband hefted the trunk onto one shoulder and then put it in the back of the wagon. “What do you have in this thing? Rocks?”

“Books, and many things I have collected over the years.” Trudie walked around and waited for him to help her into the wagon, and she was pleased when he actually did. The man seemed to have the manners of a mule, so it was good to have him offer her basic courtesy.

She sat in the wagon, wondering why she didn’t feel different. She was married now, and her life would never again be the same. It should have made her feel entirely different, but instead, she just felt like herself.

As he drove, he pointed out different things along the way. “How far is it?” she asked when they were only about five minutes out of town.

“Only another ten minutes or so. I’m not far out, but you don’t have to be far from a city to have enough space to ranch in an area like this.”

“Sounds good.” And it did to Trudie. She could probably walk or ride into town without it causing problems. “Do you mind if I go into town alone for supplies if I need to?”

He shrugged. “It’d be easier if you just had me take you when you need them. How would you get them back without the wagon?”

“I know how to hitch up a wagon and drive it,” she said softly. Of course, she knew how. She was a farm girl at heart. “I grew up on a farm, and I can ride, milk a cow, collect eggs, and cook you a meal that will make you wonder how you ever lived without me.”

He looked over at her, taking his eyes from the road for a moment. “You’re that confident of your cooking?”

“For the past five years, I have cooked for a diner in Beckham, Massachusetts. I have only been out of school for three years, but the two years previous, they had me working evenings and weekends. There was never one complaint about the cooking.”

“What do you know how to make?” he asked. His mouth was already watering as he thought of all the groceries she’d piled onto the counter. He was going to be eating like a king.

“I have a book of recipes from my family, and I have many other things memorized. I can follow any recipe.”

“Fried chicken? Pot roast? Chicken and dumplings? What about cakes and pies?”

Trudie shook her head. “I know you’ve been eating at least once per week. How can you act like you’re starving?” She could tell that he was a man who wouldn’t care if she never cleaned. He’d only care if she didn’t cook for him.

“It’s super easy. I went into town today for crackers. Now, I like crackers, but not for every single meal. Honestly, I don’t care what you cook as long as it doesn’t get burned.” He pulled the wagon onto a dirt road. “This is my property for as far as the eye can see in every direction. If you hurry, you can put a kitchen garden in, and you’ll be able to can in the fall.”

“Is it going