Page 46 of Mail-Order Bride Mommy
The smile that curved Gwen’s mouth failed to reach her eyes. “I’m grateful I can be here.” Her gaze lingered a moment then she checked her skirts. “They’re dry.”
He glanced at the sky. How had the sun gotten so far to the west? “We should be on our way.” He called Lindy, doused the fire thoroughly, and gathered up the picnic.
Lindy insisted on sitting between the two of them as they began the journey toward home. “I’m tired.” She yawned and stretched then turned to Gwen. “Can I sit on your knee?”
“Of course.” Gwen settled the child with Lindy’s head on her shoulder. In minutes, Lindy was asleep, sagging against Gwen’s arm.
Knowing how heavy the four-year-old could become, Matt shifted closer. “Let some of her weight rest on me.”
Gwen whispered, “Thank you,” as she leaned against him.
Matt bent to kiss the top of Lindy’s head. He lingered a heartbeat, wishing this could… He sat up. He didn’t wish for anything except for someone to love and care for Lindy. So why did it feel like he’d been robbed of something?
10
It was late by the time they reached the ranch. Gwen shook Lindy as they stopped in front of the house. A whiny protest indicated her resistance to being disturbed. Matt took her from Gwen, and put her on the ground before he reached up to Gwen.
Gwen missed the warmth of the little girl in her arms. Even as she regretted that Matt no longer sat pressed to her side. She’d enjoyed the day in his company. He’d seemed more relaxed.
Was he seeing her as the bride he’d chosen? The mother for Lindy that he wanted? A woman who would warm his home and care for his needs? Three more weeks until he gave his decision. Unless he changed his mind before then.
She carried Lindy inside as Matt drove the wagon away. She’d informed him she’d have something ready for a late supper as soon as he returned. Thanks to a well-stocked pantry, she hoped she could accomplish that. Canned navy beans, a variety of vegetables, and a few well-chosen spices soon simmered together in a savory-scented soup. She quickly mixed biscuits and put them in the oven.
“Lindy, could you please—?” But Lindy was gone. Gwen caught a glimpse of her racing down the path. Likely going to check on the kittens.
A short time later, golden biscuits cooled on the cupboard. The soup was ready, and a taste had proven it was as good as it smelled. The table was set. At the sound of Lindy’s voice, she glanced out the window. Matt and Lindy walked side by side toward the house, Lindy chattering and laughing.
Gwen watched them approach, the sight warming her heart. The child might be an orphan, but she was well-loved. Not only by the men of the ranch. Gwen’s heart swelled with affection for the little girl.
Her gaze shifted to Matt. He grinned at something Lindy said. Gwen’s breath caught in her lungs, trapped by the surging response of her heart as she eyed the man she planned to wed. She jerked from the window and pressed her hands to her stomach as if she could contain the turmoil within. She pressed harder and forced her lungs to work.
They’d agreed to a marriage in name only. It was what she wanted as much as he. It would give her a home where she could count on permanency. She hadn’t changed her mind. Nor did she mean to.
The back door opened and closed, and the pair entered the kitchen. “Smells mighty fine in here,” Matt said.
She allowed herself only a glance and the quickest of smiles before she turned to the stove. “Supper is ready.” She filled a soup tureen and carried it to the table and placed a platter of warm biscuits beside it. Her emotions were back where they belonged. Her unsettledness was only because he’d been so kind this afternoon and she’d enjoyed the outing so much. Reminding herself that he’d promised to take them on a picnic out on the range gave her hope they might repeat the experience.
He said grace and tasted the food. “You cook as good as my mother did.”
“I take that as the highest praise.” She met his gaze and let herself dwell there one, two, three seconds. Or more.
“You should.” He waved his spoon in the air. “That is not to say Merry wasn’t a good cook. And even Wally can cook up steaks like no one else. But your food is different.”
“Different? How?” She wasn’t sure that was a compliment despite his earlier praise.
“You make so many good things.”
Lindy bounced forward to the edge of her chair. “Can you make rice pudding? Like Mama made.”
“I can make rice pudding, but I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned over to whisper to Lindy. “No one will ever make it like your mama’s. Do you know why?”
Her eyes big, Lindy shook her head.
“Because it was made with your mama’s love and no one else can do that.”
Lindy blinked several times and swallowed hard. Gwen wondered if she should have reminded the child of her mother. Not that she thought Lindy would ever forget. She knew what it was like. The memory hovering close. Sometimes a gossamer mist, full of sweetness and light. Other times a dark cloud that shut out the sun and chilled the bones.
Gwen glanced at Matt to see if she’d said the wrong thing and incurred his displeasure. But he watched Lindy, waiting for her response.
