Page 58 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
“It’s the house Pa built shortly after we arrived,” Andy explained. “But a couple of years ago, Pa insisted we should each have our own place. The three older brothers have identical places. He decided that I, as youngest and closest to Ma, would get the original house.” They passed the houses and continued toward the barn. “It’s not exactly the first home we had. Wally lives there.” He pointed to a smaller cabin to the side. “Behind the barn, you see the bunkhouse, the cookhouse, and storage sheds.”
“It’s like a small town.”
“We try to be self-sufficient.”
They pulled up in front of the barn and Wally stepped out. “I’ll take care of the outfit,” he said.
Andy and Della made their way back to the house. The place was empty.
“I wonder where Mrs. B is.” Andy shrugged. “She and Alfred are probably off doing something. They both manage to keep busy.” He turned his hat round and round in his hands. “Will you be all right on your own? I need to see what the others are up to.”
She waved him away. “Of course, I am. I wish to thank Olivia for the clothes she’s lent me.”
“She’d like that. Run on over.”
“I’ll walk if it’s all the same to you.”
They grinned at each other and parted ways outside the door, he back to the barn and she across the yard to the first house where before she knocked, she heard beautiful piano music that carried her soul upward on gossamer wings.
She listened for several minutes but afraid she might be caught hovering outside the door, she rapped on the warm wood.
The music stopped and footsteps came toward her. Olivia opened the door. “Come in. I was hoping we’d get a chance to know you better.”
Before Della could state her business, she was ushered past the piano and into a kitchen full of bright touches—in a row on the wall behind the table were paintings of flowers. They were so real Della almost leaned close to smell them. A clear jar held an array of colorful autumn leaves.
“Will you have tea with me?” Olivia asked.
“I’d be honored.”
Olivia bustled about filling the kettle and putting it on to boil.
“I’ve come to thank you for the clothes you’ve lent me.”
“My pleasure.” Olivia set generous portions of cake on two pink dessert plates on the table.
“Your house is very pretty. I listened to you playing the piano and quite enjoyed it.”
“Thank you. I fear that and painting are my only talents.” The smile on Olivia’s face informed Della that she wasn’t upset by that fact. If indeed, it was true.
Olivia poured the tea and sat down.
“Does that mean you painted those?” Della indicated the flower pictures.
“I did. There is so much beauty here to capture.” She paused and touched her fingers to her chest. “And even more here. I am fortunate.”
Della ate a portion of the cake. “You’re a good baker too, I think.”
Olivia chuckled. “Riley had to put up with me learning. I didn’t know the first thing about running a house when I came here. But like I say—” She again touched her fingers to her chest, a gesture that brought a sting of tears to the back of Della’s eyes. “I suppose you can run a house with one hand and bake with the other.” The twinkle in Olivia’s eyes informed Della that she teased.
Enjoying this woman, Della shook her head. “I wouldn’t try and do either with one hand. But I can manage if I use two.”
“The other wives are experienced as well.” Olivia brightened. “But they’ve kindly taught me so now I can make a decent meal for that man of mine.” The possessive tone of her voice almost made the tears in Della’s eyes spill over.
They spent an hour chatting. Della laughed often as Olivia told stories about her failures in learning to cook.
Finally, reluctantly, Della pushed back. “This has been a lot of fun, but I must go help Mrs. Bennet. If I’m to be here a few days, I need to do my share.”
Olivia escorted her to the door. “I enjoyed your visit. Come back any time.”
