Page 31 of Their Wanted Bride (Bridgewater Brides 1)

“Show us,” Caleb ordered.

“No.”

We blinked at her as she sat her horse primly, her chin set with determination. We’d promised ourselves Maddy would never know physical punishment from us, but I was an inch away from taking off my belt.

My jaw tightened painfully, but I made an effort to speak calmly. “Why not, Maddy?”

“I want to go to town tomorrow.”

“No. Not by yourself, and we don’t have time to—”

“Justin, we’re out of beans,” she snapped. “There’s enough left for tomorrow, but we’ll all be going hungry after that. I told you three days ago.”

“Can’t you just gather food like you did before?”

Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, but it takes time, and doesn’t help with everything else that needs doing. Aside from that, I want eggs and roast chicken. I want sugar, and I want to put in a vegetable garden so I have something to preserve for winter. I want hogs for bacon and ham, and a case of good bourbon.” She leaned over Prince’s withers, pinning us with her glare. “You told me I could use my savings for things I wanted. That is what I want.”

Caleb and I exchanged a glance, then nodded reluctantly.

11

CALEB

* * *

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t argue with her. An extra mouth meant our food stores hadn’t lasted as long and there had been little enough to begin with. Even if she hadn’t backed us into a corner with her bargain, we would have needed to make a trip sooner than I’d planned. Her description of what she wanted made me drool in anticipation of what she’d make with all those things.

Squealing happily, Maddy led us to the trail she found and started down, laying almost prone on Prince’s rump as he negotiated the steep path. We followed her and I blinked. We’d always thought this section of our property was inaccessible. Although it had ample grazing and a water source, we hadn’t managed to find a good route around the sheer cliff. Dozens of new calves capered around their mothers, strong and healthy. All the cattle we were missing appeared to be here, plus a few from my neighbors.

“How are we going to get them back up?” Justin asked.

“No idea.”

Maddy chewed on her lower lip, looking worried. “Drive them up a few at a time? Maybe lure them with salt? I don’t know what cows want, but there has to be another way down.”

“Let’s try the salt,” I finally said. “There are a few blocks in the barn.”

“Once we get them up, we’re going to build a fence here,” Justin muttered, his face set in a scowl. He wasn’t any happier about the situation than I was, but at least we’d found our missing stock, thanks to Maddy. If she did nothing else, she ensured we’d keep our livelihood. My thoughts turned to the reward Caleb and I would give her after supper, and my shaft hardened.

“A strong one,” Maddy muttered, making us laugh. She scowled at us, then said, “I’m going fishing before I decide they’ll make fine roast beef.”

We let her go to town the next morning, her stallion hitched to our old buckboard wagon, with stern instructions to be home before sunset. Even though Bridgewater was safe and she’d be looked after, we worried. Of course, she’d made her way from Kentucky by herself. I imagined a five-mile trip into town posed no great challenge for such a woman.

To our surprise, most of our missing stock were where they belonged, lured by the salt. The few remaining head wandered up without being driven and Justin went to their owners to make arrangements for their return.

When he returned from his errand, we started on the endless list of chores, both of us casting glances at the lane as we waited for Maddy to come home. As an afterthought, I remembered to sweep out the pantry and ready it for Maddy’s purchases. Although we hadn’t wanted to let her go, Justin and I both looked forward to something besides beans.

She’d been gone less than eight hours, and my cock was already bursting. Barely a day went by that one or both of us didn’t make love to her after lunch, and it was almost sundown.

We finished our work and I scowled at the lowering sun. We were both exhausted and hungry, but that wouldn’t stop us from giving Maddy a stern talking-to when she deigned to show up. As if summoned by my thought, a cloud of dust rose in the distance, resolving itself into the form of our wife driving a heavily laden wagon.

Lathered and tired, Prince’s head drooped as she stopped him in front of the cottage. We unharnessed him quickly, and Justin led him to the barn for a well-deserved rubdown.

“Sorry I’m late,” she murmured, leaning into my arms. “It took a while to get everything loaded.” Turning to the wagon, she lifted out a box and smiled when she peered inside. “Say hello to your future eggs. Your bourbon-cured bacon is still in the wagon.”

The box contained dozens of fluffy yellow chicks. I laughed and took it from her, then set it in the kitchen next to the stove. Pouring her a cup of coffee, I pointed at a kitchen chair. “Sit and rest. I’ll unload the wagon.”

She didn’t argue, meaning she was more tired than she was willing to admit. There were sacks of flour, cornmeal, and sugar, along with small barrels of salt pork and lard. Aside from that, six weanling hogs squealed in wooden cages. An obviously pregnant heifer chewed her cud behind the wagon, still tethered. Apparently, Maddy wanted fresh milk too.

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