The corners of her mouth twitched. It was how they had always resolved their fights, by exchanging a handshake and calling a truce.
“Truce,” she agreed.
Gabe took her outstretched hand, but instead of the usual handshake, he used it to pull her onto his lap. He smiled at her wide-eyed look and then bent to kiss her.
His lips were warm and firm, and she was helpless to withstand their persuasion. He kept the kiss light, nibbling along her lower lip and the corner of her mouth. He trailed his lips along her jaw and licked the sensitive skin beneath her ear.
Leslie felt lightheaded, and her pulse was beating frantically in the hollow of her neck. Her nipples were so tight they ached, and a steady stream of moisture was seeping out between her thighs. She knew he was equally affected. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection beneath her bottom.
Gabe heaved a sigh and tucked her head beneath his chin. She could feel his heart racing under her palm.
“As much as I would like to continue this, I have a lot of work to do today. I have to finish planting, or else the crops won’t be ready before first frost. Why don’t you settle in, and I’ll be back in time for supper?”
Leslie tamped down her disappointment and nodded. She knew the realities of farming.
“What about lunch?”
“I’ll take something with me. I’ll be working in the farthest northeast pasture. It doesn’t make sense to come home in the middle of the day.”
She nodded again and slipped off his lap. “I’ll pack a lunch for you while you hitch the mules.”
By the time Gabe had the wagon loaded with his tools and the mules hitched, Leslie had packed him a lunch pail from the last of the leftovers her mother had sent. She carried it out to him, and he stowed it beneath the seat. He flashed her a smile and climbed up onto the bench.
“See you this evening, kitten.”
“I’ll have supper ready.”
Gabe nodded and flicked the reins, setting the team in motion. Leslie shaded her eyes and watched him until he disappeared behind a stand of trees.
Heaving a sigh, she turned and faced the cabin. She missed him already, but she had a lot of work to do while he was away.
Leslie wandered through the cabin, becoming acquainted with her new home. She had visited Gabe’s farm a number of times, but she had never been inside the house until her fateful midnight visit. She roamed from room to room, noticing all the small details.
The cabin was a good size, with a large living room, a dining area, kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms. It had been well built, and the abundance of windows brought in lots of bright light. Everything was neat and tidy, but she noticed that there was a thin layer of dust on the furniture, and the floors hadn’t been cleaned for a while. It wasn’t a surprise that Gabe hadn’t had much time for cleaning, given that he had been maintaining everything around the farm on his own.
What surprised her the most were the furnishings. Every piece was of astonishingly good quality, even nicer than the furnishings in her childhood home. The dining table and chairs were constructed from sturdy maple. They were stained and varnished, and the legs and backs had been decorated with tastefully carved details. There were two handsome rocking chairs, each one a work of art. There was even a sofa with a graceful wood frame and legs, upholstered in plush, emerald green velvet. Everywhere she looked, she noticed incredible craftsmanship, the hand carved mantle, the elegant table beside the sofa, even the oak wood box full of yarn and sewing items.
She wandered into their bedroom and began unpacking her belongings. As she did, she took note of the dresser and wardrobe. They were beautiful. The most striking piece of furniture was the large, comfortable bed. The four sturdy posts were sculpted with an elegant design of vines and roses. The same design was continued across both the headboard and footboard. The bed was large enough to easily accommodate Gabe’s tall frame, and the mattress was filled with soft cotton, covered by a layer of goose down. Memories of the things Gabe had done with her on that bed made her blush. She couldn’t help but anticipate the many things still to come.
Leslie blinked several times to clear her head, and she glanced out at the sun. Soon, it would be midday, and she had yet to do anything that a dutiful wife would do to help her husband. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work.
She swept and scrubbed, dusted and polished until every surface gleamed. It was hot, sweaty work, but she was determined to prove that she could be a good wife. She opened every window and door to allow the fresh breeze to cool the house. She smoothed clean sheets over the bed and made it neatly, fluffing the pillows for good measure. She found a small vase in the kitchen, and she filled it with wildflowers for the dining room table. By late afternoon, the house was spotless.
Looking around, she felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. She was certain that she would be happy living here with Gabe. It had already begun to feel like home.
She turned her attention to the pantry and released a sigh of dread. Although her mother had tried to interest her in cooking, Leslie had never learned. She had always been more interested in boyish pursuits, and cooking was a complete mystery to her.
Still, she had certainly seen her mother cooking often enough. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard. Determined to make a hearty meal for her husband, she rummaged through the larder.
There were shelves of canned vegetables and fruits, along with barrels of potatoes, onions, carrots, dried apples, beans, flour, and sugar. Small jars of various spices and herbs lined another shelf, but she had no idea what most of them were. There were crocks of butter and lard and several hunks of smoked meat wrapped in clean cloth. A small wheel of cheese and several loaves of bread were wrapped in paper. She nibbled the end of her finger, racking her brain for inspiration about what to make for supper.
The simplest idea would be to make a pot of beans and a pan of cornbread. Her mother always made that when she was pressed for time, so it must be one of the easiest meals to prepare. She frowned as she thought more about it.
Her mother usually cooked the beans slowly, letting them simmer over the course of the day. It was already late afternoon, and Leslie didn’t know how long before Gabe would be home. She would just have to cook them on higher heat so that they would be done on time.
Leslie found a pot and washed the beans, as she had seen her mother do. Then, she added a slab of salt pork, water, and chopped onion and put it on the iron cook stove. The heat from the stove made the cabin overly warm, and sweat trickled down her temples and in the valley between her breasts. She was glad for the cooling breeze that blew through the open door and windows as she worked.
She gathered the ingredients for making cornbread, along with a cast iron corn stick pan and a large bowl. After greasing the pan, she put it in the oven to heat. She mixed the ingredients, but the batter seemed far too thick. She added more milk, but the batter was too runny. She kept adding small amounts of cornmeal and milk until it seemed just right. Then, she carefully poured it into the little indentions in the preheated pan. There was a lot of batter left over, and she didn’t want to waste it. She added a bit more batter to each section of the pan, filling each indention up to the brim. She was very careful not to spill any as she slid it back into the oven.
There was still leftover batter, and she sighed. Next time she made cornbread, she would be more careful, so that she didn’t waste any ingredients.
The beans were bubbling vigorously on the stove, and she stirred them with a smile. Gabe was sure to be very pleased with her efforts.
Glancing around, she realized what a mess she had made. Flour, cornmeal, eggs, and milk had splashed on the table and floor, and she had used several bowls, spoons, and cups. She hurried to clean everything up again, sweating as she worked. She was surprised it hadn’t started to cool off, since it was so late. By the time the dishes were done, it was almost evening, and she knew Gabe would be returning soon.
She found a nice tablecloth and
smoothed it out. Then, she laid out the dishes, cutlery, and cups, adding the vase of flowers as a centerpiece. She heaved a satisfied sigh. Everything looked perfect for the very first meal she would serve her new husband.
Thinking of Gabe, Leslie stepped out on the porch and saw that he was just approaching through the trees. She gasped and ran to change her filthy clothes.
Gabe pulled the horses to a stop and jumped down from the wagon. After two exhausting days and two nights with almost no sleep, he was bone tired and grumpy.
He had worked hard, and he had managed to get the last of the planting done. Planting was monotonous, back breaking work, and he was glad to be done with it for the time being. He would have been slightly ahead of schedule on his chores.
However, on his way home, he had discovered that some fences along the orchard had been knocked down. There had been some recent storms, and the oldest, rickety sections had apparently been blown down by the heavy winds. Now, he would have to spend extra time that he hadn’t planned on to repair them, or else his livestock would wander in and plunder his fruit crops. He sighed, thinking that the work of a farmer was never done.
At least Leslie had provided him with a welcome distraction all day long. He was determined to make the best of their situation. He and Leslie had always been friends. Even if they didn’t love each other as a husband and wife ought to, they cared for each other. Gabe had spent the day remembering how she had looked that morning, all soft and feminine and tempting as she slept in the chair.
He would have liked nothing better than to carry her to his bed and explore her luscious body. It was a strange feeling to be able to fantasize about her without feeling guilty. He supposed that was the one good thing about them getting married. Now, he could act out all the naughty fantasies he had been having about Leslie.
When he arrived home, he was a bit disappointed that she wasn’t on the porch to greet him. He remembered his ma always running to give his pa a kiss and a hug when he came home.
Gabe shrugged, thinking maybe she just needed some time to get used to being a wife. Their marriage had gotten off to a rocky start, but he felt better about how things had gone that morning. He hoped that Leslie had settled in okay. As he fed and tended to the animals, he was anxious to finish so that they could spend some time together.
She had been so willing and sweet in his arms that morning. He had thought about her soft lips and sexy curves all day long. His cock had been standing at attention all afternoon, just from thinking about what he intended to do with her once they went to bed.
He washed his hands and face at the pump in the yard, sighing from the feel of the cool water trickling down his neck. As he was drying his face, he frowned. Was that smoke? He ran to the house, and he could see smoke billowing out through the open front door.
“Leslie! Leslie, where are you,” he shouted.
“I’m here!”
He bounded through the front door at the same time that Leslie came running from the bedroom. The living room and kitchen were filled with a cloud of black smoke. She gave a horrified squeal and ran to the kitchen. She opened the oven door, and without thinking, she started to reach inside with her bare hands. Gabe grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her to one side.
“Stay out of the way,” he yelled.
Smoke was pouring out of the oven door. He raced to grab a dishtowel, and he squinted to see through the smoke as he pulled the iron pan out of the oven. It was overflowing with foul smelling, black, crusty gunk. Big chunks of the stuff went flying, leaving a messy trail on the floor as he carried it to the sink. After dumping the pan, he could see that the smoke was getting even thicker. The fire inside the oven was blazing, and he needed a quick way to put it out.
He grabbed a half full bucket of dirty water sitting beside the sink and tossed the contents into the oven. The fire diminished, but there was so much wood inside, it roared back to life an instant later.
Gabe ran to the pump outside and filled the bucket a second time. He sprinted into the cabin and tossed the second bucket of water into the oven, abruptly dousing the fire. Smaller tendrils of smoke continued to rise, and he realized that the pot on top of the stove was also bubbling and smoking. The cast iron stove was so hot, it was grey rather than black. He used the towel to lift the heavy pot and carry it outside. He gingerly set it down in a patch of dirt, where it could cool.
He heard Leslie coughing, and he stepped back inside. She was fanning a dishtowel to try to clear the air, but she wasn’t having much success. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out onto the porch. They both stood there doubled over and coughing for a minute before they could catch their breath.
Gabe looked over at Leslie and scowled. Her face was smeared with dirt, and her hair was a tangled mess. She looked like a grubby little urchin.
“What in the hell were you doing?” he shouted. “You could have burned the damn house down.”
“I don’t know,” she cried. “One minute, I was cooking supper and everything was fine. I went to change clothes, and when I came back, the house was full of smoke. I don’t know what happened.”
He placed his hands on his hips and shot her an accusing glare. “I’ll tell you what happened. You put half a cord of wood inside the stove and lit it on fire. What did you expect?”
“Stop yelling at me,” she said with a guilty blush.
If anything, Gabe’s voice only rose in volume. “Answer me. What did you expect? You had the oven so full of wood, it was like an inferno!”
“I thought it would cook faster. How was I supposed to know how much wood to use?”
Gabe gave a derisive snort and threw up his hands. “Oh, I don’t know,” he sneered. “Maybe you could have used your brain.”
His voice was so full of ridicule, Leslie had to clench her jaw to keep from crying. “I didn’t know. I’ve never used the oven before. I didn’t know how it worked.”
“It’s just a regular oven, for heaven’s sake! It’s no different from the one at your parents’ house. What’s the big mystery?”
“Stop yelling,” she repeated with an angry frown. “I’ve never used any oven before. I didn’t know that I shouldn’t put so much wood in it.”
He blinked at her in amazement. “What? Are you kidding me?”
She frowned, feeling defensive and ridiculous. “No, I’m not kidding. I never had to light the oven before, so I didn’t know. It was an honest mistake.”
Seeing that she was serious, Gabe gaped at her and then laughed sarcastically as he shook his head. “Well, that’s great. That’s just perfect,” he sneered. “Of all the women in Oregon that I could have married, I end up with the only moron who doesn’t have enough sense to use an oven! And what were you thinking, trying to reach inside with only your bare hands? You could have been maimed for life.”
“I said stop yelling,” she growled through gritted teeth.
Gabe’s temper snapped, and he advanced on her until he had backed her up against the outside wall of the cabin. He leaned down until his nose was only inches from hers and bellowed louder than ever.
“You don’t like me yelling? Well, guess what? I don’t like coming home at the end of an exhausting day to find that my idiotic wife has nearly burned the goddamn house down around her stupid little ears!”
Leslie slapped him with so much force it hurt her arm. Gabe jerked back, wide eyed, and her red handprint burned bright on his cheek. Her eyes glowed with green fire as she glared up at him. Her low-pitched voice was seething with fury, and twin spots of color highlighted her own cheeks.
“Stop yelling at me, you big bully. I’m sorry that I didn’t know how much wood to put in an oven. I’m sorry if I don’t meet your expectations as a wife. I’m sorry that I came here a few nights ago and started all this trouble. But guess what? You haven’t exactly met my expectations as a husband, either, and it’s just as much your fault as it is mine that we’re stuck with each other.” She raked him with a derisive glance from head
to toe. “If you’d been able to keep your britches buttoned, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”
Gabe actually blushed. She advanced on him as she continued her tirade. She backed him up until he was leaning against the porch railing.
“You think that you’re the only one who had an exhausting day? I have cleaned and scrubbed and cooked all day long trying to make everything nice for you. And what thanks do I get? You yell and make fun of me and call me names like I have no feelings at all. Well, I may not be the wife you would have chosen, but I’m the only wife you’ve got, and I will not be treated like that.”
Leslie stood on her tiptoes, doing her best to get right in his face, and she raised one haughty brow. While she kept her voice at a low pitch, she jabbed a finger repeatedly in the middle of his chest for extra emphasis.
“You’ve told me to watch my mouth several times. Well, you’d better watch yours, too, Gabe. The next time you call me a moron or idiot or stupid, I’m going to take that cast-iron skillet in there and knock you upside the head. Got it, buster?”
Without waiting for him to respond, she whirled on her heel and stalked into the cabin, slamming the door so hard that the glass in the windows rattled. Gabe stood there dazed for a minute, rubbing his chest where she had poked him. Finally, he heaved a deep, frustrated sigh and sat down on the steps, hanging his head.
Chapter 7
Leslie’s heart was pounding, and she was breathing as if she had run a mile when she got back inside. She was trembling with fury, and her eyes stung from unshed tears.
Thanks to the fresh breeze blowing through the open windows, most of the smoke had cleared, but there was still a haze of it throughout the cabin. The floor was covered in muck, and black water dripped into a puddle all around the cook stove. The wall behind the stove was black.
She felt like such a fool. How would they ever make this marriage work when she couldn’t even prepare a simple meal without causing a disaster?
His Sweet Kitten (Return To The McKenzies Book 1) Page 9
