Page 502 of Conveniently Wed
Lorinda would, but paper was a luxury item to her.
“Did you go to school?” That must have been an afterthought for the older woman.
“Not much. But after we were married, Mike taught me to read and write. I can even cipher numbers. Maybe not really big ones, but some.”
Mrs. Oleson wiped her hands on her apron and left the room, returning with a sheet of the nicest paper Lorinda had ever seenand a sharpened pencil. “Go ahead and write it down. When you’re finished, sprinkle cinnamon and sugar over the apples and raisins then mix it all together.”
While they finished creating the pie, their conversation flowed like an ebbing river. Lorinda lost herself in the rhythm of the words. Having a woman discuss things with her was heavenly. Pa had hardly spoken to her unless he was drunk, and the things he said then felt more like rocks hitting her heart. Mike had talked to her, but he didn’t really listen to what she wanted. His way was the only way to do things. At least, his lovemaking made up for all the rest...almost.
“So you can read. What kinds of books do you like?”
“The only book I’ve ever had was my mother’s Bible. But Mike and I read it together a lot.” She watched how Mrs. Oleson folded the crust to transfer it to the greased pie tin. That looked easy enough.
“I like to read on a long winter evening after all the chores are done, so I have quite a few books. I’d be glad for you to borrow some of them.”
Lorinda thought this must be what heaven was like. Being treated with such honest caring, having plenty to eat, and even books she could explore.
If only she didn’t feel like an interloper here.
Today, while he worked with the hands on the ranch, Franklin also checked for signs the arsonist might still be in the area. None of the patrols his men had been on could find a trace of him beyond the footprints he left at the Sullivan claim, and they only led to where a horse had trampled the snow. After the man had mounted his horse, he made his way to the road acrossthe mountain, so there was no way to follow him beyond where his hoofprints intermingled with so many others. Maybe it was time to relax and quit worrying about the blackguard. He was probably long gone.
Every time his thoughts turned toward the miscreant, they then meandered in the direction of Lorinda. No matter how hard he tried to keep his mind on his business, his thoughts had a will of their own.
When he’d been at the house these last couple of weeks, he’d done his best to stay away from the woman. Mainly just seeing her at mealtime. That suited him just fine. Of course, Mrs. Oleson kept him apprized of the events at the house, and the woman had been settling in quite nicely. Even if that wasn’t what he wanted. And the two women got along really well.
After arriving back at the stable behind the ranch house, he took care of Major before heading in to supper. An enticing smell greeted him at the door, a mingling of hearty stew and his favorite pie. Apple raisin. His stomach gave an appreciative growl, and hunger overtook him. He quickly cleaned up in the mud room and entered the warm, brightly-lit kitchen.
“Mrs. Oleson, something smells delicious.”
Lorinda glanced up from where she was setting the table, her blue eyes reminding him of a warm summer day, instead of the lingering cold of spring. She quickly averted her gaze.
The woman looked much healthier than she had when he’d found her beside her burned-out cabin. Staying at his ranch must be good for her. Until now, he hadn’t noticed how much her size had changed the last two weeks. Her impending motherhood had progressed, and her arms and face looked like they had filled out. All that did was increase her beauty. He took a deep breath and looked away.
He would have been married by now, probably with a child or two, if Miriam and Marvin hadn’t broken his heart. No matterhow much he wanted a son to inherit his vast holdings, it wasn’t going to happen … ever.
Spears of jealousy lanced his gut. How could he be envious of a dead man? It hardly seemed fair that a corpse’s wife was nearing her delivery time, and Franklin had no hope of a family. No way would he ever trust his heart to another woman, even if she was beautiful, with curls the color of summer sunshine. Why would a loving God let such a thing happen to him?
“Did you want to eat now or after you read the mail Terrell brought from town when he went in for supplies?” His housekeeper stood beside the stove, stirring the pot of stew.
Needing to rein in his emotions, he headed toward the doorway to the hall. “I’ll just check what arrived. I should be back to eat in about fifteen minutes.”
“Dinner will be on the table by then.” He heard Mrs. Oleson put the cover on the simmering stew pot.
He didn’t look back as he hurried toward his office. After reaching the desk, he shuffled through the envelopes, reading the return addresses. Nothing looked to be pressing, so he walked over to the front windows. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out at the mountain peaks in the distance.
He loved this land. When he was younger he’d had dreams of being like his father and passing it on, but all that was futile now. Why was he working so hard to preserve the ranch? Probably because he didn’t know what else to do. Maybe when he died, the ranch could be divided between his most loyal employees.
He huffed out a deep breath. Why was he worrying about that? He was a young man with plenty of time to decide what to do.Mike Sullivan didn’t expect to die when he did either. He was younger than you are.The sudden thought blind-sided him. Well, he didn’t need to dwell on that. Good food awaited him.
On the way back down the hallway to the kitchen, he identified the pleasing aroma of baking biscuits intermingling with the other scents. Once more, his stomach let him know he was way past hungry. With all the work today, he’d developed an enormous appetite.
Mrs. Oleson looked up when he stopped in the doorway. “You’re right on time, Franklin. Lorinda and I just put out the last of the food.” She tucked the tea towel around the golden biscuits to keep them hot.
He took his place at the head of the table with a woman on either side of him, facing each other. At least, his newest employee wasn’t across from him where he’d see every move she made.
After they were all seated, he bowed his head. “Father God, thank you for the food and the hands that prepared it. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”
Before he started eating, he turned his gaze toward Mrs. Oleson. “Everything looks delicious.”
