Page 562 of Conveniently Wed
He wondered what she meant, but he didn’t ask. Of course, every man needed a strong name, especially out here in the mountains.
“Since Mrs. Oleson planned to stay in Breckenridge to help with the funeral meal at the schoolhouse, I put on a pot of elk stew. It should be ready soon.” Lorinda headed toward the kitchen.
Franklin was surprised that all the things on his mind had kept him from noticing the pleasing aroma of the stew. But then, the house usually smelled good when he came in near a mealtime.
Rusty had gone hunting last week and brought the large bull elk down. After they slaughtered it, the meat had hung in the cold smokehouse. Franklin was particularly fond of elk meat, so his mouth watered. He hadn’t felt like eating when he was in town, but the stew Lorinda made emanated a delicious aroma throughout the house. As Franklin watched the two baby boys, hunger pangs assailed him. He could hardly wait for the meal to be ready. Soon after Lorinda left, the fragrance of cooking biscuits joined the other delicious smells.
Franklin picked up Michael and hugged him tight before also grabbing the handle of the basket that held Andrew. He took both boys to the kitchen, setting the basket not too far from the black cook stove and putting Michael in his highchair.
“Can I do anything to help?”
Lorinda had never seen Franklin help with anything in the kitchen besides taking care of the fire in the stove. “Everything’s ready. I’ll just set the table, then serve the food.”
“Okay. I’ll watch the boys.” His words sounded so normal, even though having more than one son was new to them.
He pulled up a chair beside the highchair and whispered secrets into Michael’s ears. The baby’s attention was focused completely on his daddy.
She gathered the silverware and napkins and began to place them on the table. When she glanced up, her husband’s attention wasn’t focused on Michael, even though he continued to play with him. His gaze followed her every move. A soft smile spread across his face. What was that man thinking? Did a wife ever know her husband’s thoughts? She never had masteredthat, even when she was married to Mike. He was always a mystery.
Franklin had never really tried to control her the way her father and Mike had, but she still couldn’t figure him out. Would her life always be filled with unknowns? Or someday, would she be able to understand her husband?
Lorinda returned to the stove and slid the pot of stew off onto hot mats on the cabinet by the dry sink. She felt his eyes boring into her back. Was he deliberately trying to make her feel uncomfortable? She shook the thought from her mind when she turned around to carry the bowls of stew to the table. After removing the biscuits from the oven, she placed them in a tea towel-lined bread basket and pulled the edges up over the biscuits to keep them warm. She removed the crock of butter from the ice cold closet and brought both things to the table, all the time feeling awkward.
“Everything smells delicious, Lorinda.”
The way he said her name made her feel cared for. Too bad he didn’t.
33
November dawned cold and fair. Franklin had been out in the barn doing chores before breakfast. As he returned to the house, he studied the snow-capped mountains surrounding his ranch. Not much of the snow had made it all the way to the valley. As cold as the air was now, the next snowstorm could bury them in the white stuff.
Inside the warm, cozy ranch house, he shed his winter outerwear and left them near the front door. Laughter in the kitchen drew him the way the Pied Piper had drawn the children out of the German city of Hamelin. When he’d heard the tale as a boy, he’d often wondered how just a sound could draw a person so strongly. Now he knew. The women discussing the coming day, Michael jabbering and banging his hands on the tray of the highchair, and the softer sounds coming from little Andrew drew him like bees to honey.
He stood in the doorway for a moment before anyone saw him. The room, a kaleidoscope of color and action. Michael was the first to notice him.
“Da, da, da.” A smile that melted Franklin’s heart lit Michael’s face as he pounded the tray between each syllable.
Lorinda turned and their eyes met. Did he detect delight in hers?
“How is everyone this morning?” He hunkered beside the basket near the stove and the tiny boy opened his eyes...wider than ever before.
Franklin picked him up and laid the baby close to his heart before taking a seat in his usual chair at the table. He should be able to handle eating while holding Andrew. The baby didn’t move around much yet, and all Franklin needed was one hand to partake of his meal.
“Wonderful.” Lorinda got up to help Mrs. Oleson put the food on the table.
His heart felt full with their expanded family. The week-old baby had settled in just fine, and his wife had a special glow about her. She was meant to be a mother to more than one child. He hoped the day would come when he could give her his own child to love and care for.
Mrs. Oleson set a cup of hot coffee in front of him. “Is it getting even colder outside?”
“Yup. It’s way past nippy out there.” He took a sip of the steaming brew, then cradled the cup with his hand until his fingers became toasty.
Lorinda brought a platter of scrambled eggs and ham in one hand and a basket of piping hot biscuits in the other. She set them on the table and sat beside him. After putting a large spoonful of eggs on a saucer to cool for Michael, she served Franklin a heaping helping of them, along with a thick slice of ham.
“You want me to butter some biscuits for you?” Her smile warmed him clean through.
“That would be right nice.” He watched as she deftly split two biscuits open and slathered them with the fresh-churned spread. His mouth watered watching her drizzle honey on top.
Evidently, Andrew had fallen asleep. By the time they finished eating, he started squirming.
