by Jenny Plumb
After Jude fed and rubbed down the horse, he entered the cabin to find Callie pouring sautéed onions over restaurant-purchased roast beef. He knew this was another of his wife’s tricks – sautéing spices to fill the cabin with smells that added to the illusion of cooking.
Shaking his head, he removed his Stetson and placed it on the rack while stomping his boots on the rug. Callie turned, uttered a squeal of glee upon seeing him, and launched herself into his arms. He tried to remain strong in his resolve to give her a seeing-to, but he struggled to focus when her young body, which was firm yet soft in all the right places, pressed so enticingly into the planes of his chest and abs.
He wrapped his arms around her. “Hello, little hellion.”
She tilted her head up and smiled the sweetest smile at him, which prompted him to bend and give her a sound kiss. He squeezed her tighter to him.
When their lips unlocked, she said, “I’m glad you’re home. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I am,” he responded. He brushed some flour off her cheek with his thumb.
She rubbed off the rest with her palm. “I got that flour on my face while baking a peach pie,” she informed him.
He closed his eyes. Billy had just mentioned to him that Eva was serving peach pie all week at her restaurant. She and a couple of her friends in town had some kind of preserving party, and the result was fresh pies for Eva’s customers – and for Callie’s continued deception, it seemed.
Jude walked toward the kitchen with one arm draped around the little liar’s shoulders. That’s a new trick, he muttered to himself. She was creative, he’d give her that, although she could have done a little better with the flour. She gave away that she’d purposely dusted it on her cheek by knowing right away what he was brushing off of her, without him saying. His wife deserved a darned good licking, but first he would eat the supper from Eva’s Restaurant and give her one more chance to come clean.
He sat at the head of the table and watched Callie spoon Eva’s green beans onto his plate.
“How did branding go today?” she asked.
“Just fine. Billy helped me with the design to use for the brand, and we were able to mark about half the herd. I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea how to make something like that. It takes some fancy blacksmithing.” He gave her a pointed look. “It’s good to ask people for help when you don’t know how to do something.”
Callie nodded, oblivious to his thinly veiled suggestion. “Yes, I agree, it’s good you asked Billy for help with that.” She placed two of Eva’s rolls onto his plate.
“I hope you know you can ask for help if you need it,” he pressed. “Lots of folks would be willing to help you get settled in here, Billy’s wife Annie, for one. I know she took a shine to you on our journey west, and Billy has mentioned to me how much she enjoys your company.”
Callie waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t need help. I reckon anything done at home is easier than cutting cattle.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Cooking seems a mite tricky.” Jude studied her, willing her to come clean.
Callie avoided his eyes and concentrated hard on spooning mashed potatoes onto his plate. Jude watched her silently. After the mashed potatoes, she delivered three slabs of roast beef to his plate and one to her own. He knew that any cut of meat available at Harry’s meatpacking shop would come in a much larger portion. They would have beef for days if she were spending her money on bulk goods, as opposed to spending an arm and a leg on individual meals each day.
Jude set down his water glass with a thud and cleared his throat to give her a good scolding, but then he noticed her flushed cheeks and the worried lines etched along her forehead. His stern words got stuck somewhere in his throat. He knew his wife. He understood how difficult it was for her to admit weakness of any kind. When she was living at the orphans’ home, showing weakness would get her mocked, or worse, abused. Instead of taking the time to teach her, Bentley would have berated her or thrown her in the closet. Growing up without a mother had left Callie lacking in the skills typically imparted from mother to daughter, like cooking, mending, and other such womanly ventures.
He wished he knew how to help her feel better about not being typical. She was different, and that was one of the reasons he loved her. She could shoot a gun about as good as any gunslinger west of the Mississippi, and she had a headful of knowledge about herbs and medicines. He admired that. She was smart and plucky, and that was how she’d survived her terrible childhood. He wanted to give her a much happier future, and he didn’t like seeing worry on her face. He also didn’t like that she felt she needed to lie to him.
“How was your day, darlin’?” he asked, gentling his voice. “Tell me what you did today.”
Callie sat down and sawed into her roast beef as Jude did the same to his. “I was awful busy today. I started baking just right after you left this morning. It takes time for bread to rise.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I had to get the dough and roll it around, you know? And press my fists into it, then lift it and turn it over and do that again.”
“You mean you had to knead it,” Jude supplied.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. “That’s it. I had to knead it something fierce.”
Jude groaned and ate a bite of his roll. He couldn’t allow this to continue, and he needed to make very sure that he punished her firmly enough that she stopped lying to him altogether.
Chapter 2
Callie felt distraught about once again serving Jude a meal she hadn’t cooked. She wanted to make Jude proud of her, but cooking was a lot more difficult than she thought it would be. Earlier that day, she had tried to bake bread, but it stayed flat. She didn’t understand why it didn’t rise like she’d seen bread dough rise before. Perhaps she needed another ingredient, or maybe she needed to knead it differently. No matter what the issue was, her attempt had failed, and trying to get it to work had taken most of the day. She realized around four o’clock that she’d run out of time to try anything else, so she walked the mile to town quickly, carrying her basket along with her.
Eva smiled at her when she entered the restaurant. “Two full suppers to go?” she asked cheerfully. The plump cook and owner of the most popular restaurant in Sacramento wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron and took the basket from Callie. She was familiar with this routine.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been so busy mending today, I haven’t had time to cook.”
Callie didn’t feel guilty about lying to Eva. It was Jude she hated lying to. After all the love and support he’d given her, she was repaying him with lies, and it made her feel like a wretched person. She also feared getting caught. Jude didn’t have many expectations of her, but telling him the truth was something he was very firm about. She knew that if he found out about this big lie, he would take her over his knee and spank her soundly. She clenched her bottom cheeks at the thought. He’d probably use the belt too, she realized mournfully.
Eva smiled at her. “It’s hard being a new wife, lots to do. Seems you haven’t been able to cook at all ever since you moved into that little ranch house. Come along.” She led the way to the back portion of the restaurant, where she did all the cooking. It smelled like bread and spices.
Callie drew in a long breath of the heavenly scent. That’s what was missing in her home – the wonderful smells of home cooking. “No, I haven’t had much time,” she agreed. “Yesterday I had to take the washboard to the river and clean all of Jude’s clothes. They need to be washed most every day. He gets home from the range with mud on his shirt and cow dung on his trousers. It’s hard to keep up with all the chores.”
Eva laughed as she mashed the potatoes. “You’ll get the hang of things soon enough, dear. It’ll become a routine – baking one day, churning butter the next, sweepin’ the floors and washing clothes in between doin’ all that.”
Callie felt a pinch of sadness and the beginnings of panic. She di
dn’t know how to churn butter either. How was she going to learn everything? She couldn’t bear to ask anyone for help. What would people think of her – a woman and wife who didn’t know the first thing about cooking? She’d be the town’s laughing stock, she just knew it.
After frequent interruptions from multiple patrons, Eva finished preparing the suppers and packed the two meals into Callie’s basket.
“I sure appreciate this,” Callie said, taking the basket from her.
“My pleasure, honey. Sorry it took me so long. I’ve been awfully busy. I’ve been trying to find someone to work for me because this place gets more and more customers every day,” she said with a tired sigh.
“That’s because the food you cook is so delicious,” Callie told her honestly. “Good luck finding an employee. I’m sure you will find someone soon.”
Eva smiled. “Thanks, lovey. You take care now.”
Callie sat at the table with Jude, wondering whether she ought to confess to him that she’d been purchasing the pre-cooked meals. She tried to find the courage to spill the beans, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. She knew Jude loved her, but she felt terrified that one day he would realize he’d made a terrible mistake in marrying her. He would decide that what he really wanted was a proper wife, not a scrappy orphan who hadn’t been brought up properly.
They could afford her little stunt for now. Jude had managed to make a pretty penny while driving a stagecoach, and he’d been a scrupulous saver while unattached. He gave Callie all the money she asked for without questioning her. She let out a sigh. She couldn’t bear to confess. Instead, she would keep practicing in the kitchen and hopefully learn how to cook before he questioned her about how much money she was spending.
Jude interrupted her thoughts. “What’s on your mind, darlin’? You look upset about something.”
Callie forced her face to relax into a less-worried expression. She stirred her mashed potatoes. “I suppose I’m just a little tired. It took nearly two hours to cook that roast beef.”
Jude didn’t say anything in response, and when she looked up, she discovered that he was regarding her with a stern expression. She swallowed hard and shifted in her seat, feeling nervous as she did every time he gave her that look. It generally meant she was about to be subject to his discipline, which was never cruel, but was certainly quite unpleasant.
“Do you like the supper?” she asked meekly.
“I do,” Jude said, his voice serious. “It reminds me an awful lot of the roast beef Eva cooks at her restaurant.”
Callie’s heart beat a little quicker. She should confess right now. He’d probably figured it out anyway, and a confession might make him go easier on her.
Instead of doing the right thing, she took a gamble and continued with the ruse on the off chance that he hadn’t figured it out. Nodding, she smiled at him. “Yes, Eva gave me the recipe, so I imagine it tastes about the same.”
Jude slowly picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “Callie, darlin’, do you understand how much I love you, exactly how you are?” His voice was still stern as he spoke the loving words. His gaze lingered on her face, and Callie felt like he was seeing right through her.
His question and the way he looked at her made her want to cry. She blinked and nodded. “I know you love me. Sometimes I don’t know why, though.” Her voice cracked and she bit her lip.
Jude scooted his chair away from the table. “How dare you say that? Come here right now.” He held out his hand.
Without hesitation, Callie took his hand and moved her body against his. He set her on his lap and wrapped her up in his embrace. “I should spank you for saying such a thing. You ought to know why I love you, and you ought to be secure about it.” He kissed her forehead. “There’s nothing you can do to make me not love you, young lady. Understand?”
His words warmed her heart. She was so very grateful for her husband. It still felt strange having him in her life and feeling the kind of love he offered her. It often felt too good to be true. “I love you too, Jude. I want to be a good wife to you.” She snuggled against him so closely that she heard his heartbeat.
“You are a good wife, and I won’t have you thinking otherwise. Is there something on your mind you’d like to share with me?”
Callie swallowed hard. Just say it, she told herself. Just say, I don’t know how to cook. It shouldn’t be this difficult. It shouldn’t be, but it was. She still felt she might be able to spare herself the humiliation. All she needed to do was practice cooking a bit more, and then Jude would be none the wiser.
“No, sir. I don’t have anything to say.”
She felt Jude’s chest expand against her in a sigh. “All right. Go and finish your meal.”
She left his lap and returned to her chair. Jude was quieter than normal throughout the rest of the supper, despite her best efforts to engage him in lively conversation. His intense gaze on her face made her stammer her sentences. He was displeased with her, she could tell, and that didn’t bode well for her preferred state of comfortable sitting.
Later, as she washed the dishes, she came to a decision. She needed a goal, something to work toward. It was through being placed in challenging, do-or-die situations that Callie had always succeeded in her undertakings, like the time she convinced Jude to take her west or the time she negotiated their way out of a stagecoach robbery.
Christmas was fast approaching, and what better incentive to learn how to cook than to invite folks over for Christmas dinner?
Chapter 3
Jude finished his slice of Eva’s peach pie and sat on the sofa to read the Sunday paper. He found it hard to concentrate. It disappointed him that Callie hadn’t confessed. She knew better than to lie to him. He’d punished her before for lying, and she should have learned her lesson then. More than anything, though, he was disappointed that she felt she needed to lie, even after he reassured her of his love.
Callie wandered over after she finished washing the dishes. Jude looked up from the paper to see her smiling happily. She plopped herself down next to him. “Will you read to me, Jude?”
She loved when he read to her. When she heard his reading voice, it made her feel safe and relaxed. Jude liked giving her that sense of security. It was how a woman should feel around her husband, although at that moment, her bottom wasn’t very safe. It was very much in danger of being properly tanned, in fact. Had she known that, Jude reckoned she wouldn’t have willingly placed herself next to his right knee, where she could easily be toppled over and spanked like she deserved.
Jude turned the page and scanned the articles. On the bottom right was a short contribution from Mrs. Gregory. The marshal’s wife wrote a blurb every week having something to do with homemaking topics.
Jude usually skimmed over these types of articles in papers. This time, however, the title caught his eye: A Beginner’s Guide to Baking Bread.
He pointed at it. “How about I read this to you? Or would that be boring, since you already know how to bake bread?” His tone of voice was wry.
Callie eyes flitted to the page. She blinked her long eyelashes a few times, then looked over at him. “You might as well read it so I can check her facts. If anything in the article is wrong, I’ll write to inform her.”
Jude coughed. “Oh, will you now?”
She nodded and craned her head toward the page, squinting her eyes. Jude gave the paper a shake to straighten it and cleared his throat. “In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water. Add sugar, salt, lard, and three cups flour. Place the mixture on a floured—”
“Wait a second,” Callie cut in. She pressed her face closer to the page. “Yeast?”
“Mmm hmm, that’s what it says. I think that’s what makes bread rise.”
Her mouth rounded into an O and a look of understanding crossed her face. Jude stifled a smile. He shouldn’t think that was cute, but he did. She had no idea how transparent her lies were to him, and her innocence endeared her to him.
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She straightened and lifted her chin. “I know what makes bread rise, Jude. I just thought Mrs. Gregory hadn’t spelled yeast correctly. Upon closer examination, it’s clear that she has.”
“I see. Would you like me to continue?”
“Yes, please.”
“Place the mixture on a floured surface; knead until smooth and stretchy, about eight to ten minutes.”
“That’s all? Just ten minutes?” Callie’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.
“That’s what it says.”
“Well, I would recommend about twelve minutes,” she informed him firmly.
Jude rolled his eyes outside of her view and wrapped an arm around her. He kissed the top of her head. “Are you going to keep interrupting?”
She relaxed against him. “No. I’m sorry, Jude. I’ll study it for errors later. Go ahead and finish.”
Jude read the rest of the recipe, while Callie remained quiet. He read the next article slowly, enjoying the feeling of Callie’s body cuddled up next to his. When he finished, he closed the paper and set it aside. The time had come to set things straight. He forced his voice to harden. “That’s enough reading for now. We’ve got some talking to do.”
Callie’s head shot up at his words and tone. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, and her cheeks assumed a pink hue. “What do you want to talk about?”
Jude frowned at her. He was about to tell her how disappointed he was that she’d been lying to him when a knock at the door diverted his attention. Standing, he said, “You think about what might have gotten me tetchy while I see who this is.” He strode to the door, wondering who would be disturbing them after suppertime, when most folks were fixin’ to go to bed.
He groaned inwardly when he opened the door to find former Senator Tom Tucker standing at his doorstep. Senator Tucker was one of his five stagecoach passengers on the journey west. The odious bully had taken an extreme dislike to Callie. Jude didn’t care for his condescending attitude toward her and would have been happy never to set eyes on the man again. His wife Virginia wasn’t so bad, once he’d broken through her brittle exterior. Although she’d originally assumed her husband’s haughty approach to Callie, eventually she’d softened toward her and treated her kindly. The senator’s dislike of Callie, however, remained firmly in place.
