Page 40 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
“Oh good.”
“Not always.”
Her eyebrows rose in silent question.
“They could bunch up so tight that the lead cows would be crushed.”
“Oh no. Did that happen?”
“Only once. We lost a dozen animals.” He didn’t let her get too sad about that fact before he added, “It could have been much worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
Wanting to distract her from contemplating the fate of cows, he headed in another direction with his talk. “There’s a second type of storm. One with no wind. Snowflakes as big as a teacup falling gently, but so thick a man can’t see beyond his own nose. That kind of snowfall has a unique scent to it. Almost metallic.”
A sigh disturbed the air around her. “It sounds wonderful.” She sat up and squirmed around to face him. “Do you think I might see a snowstorm?”
If she stayed long enough, she could see snowstorms, spring storms, and every sort of weather. “October is late enough that it’s possible. T’would be nice to see the end of this heat wave. But let’s hope it doesn’t turn cold before we get to the ranch.”
She settled back, her shoulder against his. “This is a wild, beautiful country.”
“Don’t forget untamed.” And sometimes violent with men like Mr. Hartman. He listened to the wind and watched the driven cloud grow less dark. “I think the worst is over. We’ll give it a few more minutes then be on our way.” He needed to get back to the ranch and safety as soon as possible.
* * *
Della wipedthe dust from the wagon seat before she sat down. Andy was busy with the horses. The air was gray and heavy with particles of dirt. She brushed at her face as she watched Andy at work. So calm and patient. A man to be trusted as far as she could tell.
He climbed up beside her, adjusted his cowboy hat, and grinned. “Are you ready to continue this adventure?”
She laughed. “My life has certainly changed from running errands, helping with laundry, and assisting with children. When I left Toledo, I never imagined I’d hide in a wagon, camp outdoors, escape from a man not once but twice—” She looked hard and long behind them and seeing no sign of a pursuer shifted back and continued, “Be on the lookout for fires and sit through a dust storm. Not to mention a night spend with Trudy wondering what had happened to you and Bart.” Amusement bubbled up inside her. “It’s not at all what I had in mind.”
Andy grinned at her. “Life in the west tends to be full of unexpected things. Some good. Some not.”
“Mr. Hartman said he was a farmer. He described how he grew oats and wheat. I thought Ma would be happy on a farm. She could have her own chickens and her own garden. No more depending on friends and neighbors.”
“We are self-sufficient at the ranch.”
“Tell me about it.” The rest of the day stretched ahead of them. Plenty of time to learn about Andy’s home and his life.
“We have a big garden. The ladies preserve the produce. Our cellar is full of row upon row of jars. I heard Olivia describe it as a rainbow of color. The root cellar is full of stored vegetables. There’s a spring house with hanging meat. We have chickens and eggs.”
Della sat back, envisioning the blessing of having all one needed right there. “Ma and I did our best to put up stores as well. It’s hard when the space you have for a garden is about the size of a table.” She drew in air. “Don’t get me wrong. We were grateful to have a roof over our heads.”
“No doubt you’d be amazed to see how much we have at the ranch.”
His voice had deepened—the sound rumbling in her chest. Was he suggesting she could be part of that plenty? No. Of course, he wasn’t. And she had no business even thinking it. But she had uncovered a deep urgent longing to hear about his life.
“In your opinion, what is the best thing about living on a ranch?”
He chuckled, lines fanning out around his eyes in a way that made her want to run her fingers along his cheeks to feel them. “How long do you have?”
Her answering grin made her eyes warm with awareness and… longing? She ignored the thought. “If I recall what you said, I believe we have the rest of the day.”
“Very well. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She patted his arm. “I won’t.”
“One thing is the animals. There’s something special about seeing newborn critters. Calves, foals, kittens—even the gophers. They all stand around their hole watching everything and then when they sense danger, they all try to get down at the same time.” He laughed softly before he continued, telling of saving a calf stuck in the mud and fighting for it to survive, of baby kittens they had every year, and the joy of new foals. “There’s also the scenery. Look at the mountains.”
